No Honorable Ancestors of Geniuses have walked before me. No Longevity of Hair have I (since the all powerful fever raged in our Province). No Character of Biliousness, the Character of me being of unimportantness. How then can I, not having been birthed with properness become into one Genius on the instant? It is of uttermost impossibility, albeit the American friend of Miss Sterling say she teach to me many fine words of American Slang most profitable in works of Genius. Only can the Goddess of Mercy and perhaps the Foreign God a little, lend of aid to me in my extremities. To them I design the Poem below, of which you shall have readings. To composition, Poem take with much exactitude, six of hours and forty-five of moments. At endings of time, eyes ached and stomache have yearnings but Poem come out. I have extensive happiness for I now have knowings that, if of eats I partake of littleness, and make anointments of hair that it may to grow, I shall yet arrive at the business of Genius. Give unto me of the sacred power, O, Goddess of Mercy, now, this hour, That into a GENIUS I may flower, Like silver dewdrops in summer shower. Yesterday Miss Powers say in class - "Some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them." Thus has the business of Genius been thrust upon me and I must get busy. For three days now, in searchings of library of Honored President, I come upon Eng Muoi also making searchings. She hide book, I hide book. Today I make findings of space of emptiness on book-shelf where yesterday stood Honorable Pope. Eng Muoi has taken him unto herself. Next where Honorable Pope once was and now is not, I found book of Honorable Lord Kames, most evident a Genius with knowledge of Geniuses incomparable. He says, "A Constitution of Warmth and Inflamableness must a Genius possess. Likewise a Delicacy of Taste and Sedateness." Three of these Constitutions have I - Warmth (of coldness I know not) Inflamableness (anger comes quickly unto my heart) Delicacy of Taste (is it not I who of foods make selectings for our feasts?) But Sedateness, I have it not. Perhaps if I hump me and make trackings I can to catch it. We are making a journey, Miss Sterling, Ai Lang, Bing Ding and I to the Monastery of Dreams on the tall mountain Koshan. From the Compound we came in early morning time by boat and now in sedan chairs we ascend into the clouds. At each placement of rest we stop. While coolies catch at breath and smoke at pipe, we drink of tea and watch at view. It is most wondrous. Trees of a growth extraordinary. Rocks of mightiness each bearing an inscription from the Classics. Down side of mountain, tumbling into waterfalls over boulders of bigness flows a stream of the clearness of glass. Below, the "Happy Valley" stretches myriads of miles away, of green in shadow and gold in sunshine, all of uttermost beauty.