Do you remember a well by the glorious cherry tree in the park? The ’rikisha men moisten their parched lips at the “Heaven-Sent.” That is its name, sir. Miss Hana looked down into the well. She began to adjust her hair. The first worry of a girl after thirteen would naturally be about her hair. She gazed up to the cherry blossoms and exclaimed: “Utsukushii nah! Lovely!” Then she found her face again in the well-mirror, thinking what a charming O Hana San it would make with the flowers on her hair. My worthy readers, I suppose it is the time some one must enter. He came. He was a little boy. I will not mention his name just yet. He came close to her and pinched her little back. Both blushed, facing each other. They were quite strangers. The evening zephyrs stirred the cherry blossoms. They planted themselves silently among the falling petals, as ethereal as snow. “I delight to stand in the storm of petals, don’t you?” Hana inclined her head a trifle in speaking. The woman always speaks first. “Let me see your school book!” again she said. “Why?” He put it in her tiny hand. “Thanks! Arigato!” She bowed low. When she put the book on her shoulder, she was running away, singing: “Miss Honourable Moon, how old are you?” The boy stood aghast. * * * * * * * The author of this story found O Hana San again by the same well on the next evening. The boy’s book in her hand, of course. She paced around the well, muttering: “He must come, because the moon rose.” But he was not seen. * * * * * My next chapter will be “The Second Meeting.” 8th—My precious Ada again! How could I live without her? We hastened to a circus. If I were a boy, I could earn a heap of money selling “Pea—nuts! Lemon—ade!” How those clowns did tumble! If I could share in such fun! The ringmaster was the handsomest man in the world, in shiny boots and heavenly hat. How splendidly his whip cracked! The clack dashed like a burst of bamboo. “Wouldn’t you be glad to be the lady on horseback? I would truly. Glance at her daring grace!” I whispered to Miss Ada. Even the seal performed. We laughed till tears dropped. The circus had twenty elephants. Think! Our Imperial Menagerie of Tokio has only one. How poor! 9th—Last night I went over to Mrs. Consul’s to be given a lesson in card-playing. “Cribbage would be the thing. Why? Because the Lambs took much pleasure in it,” she said. “How is poker?” I suggested. “Gambling game!” she protested. “I delight in gambling, Mrs. Consul,” I proclaimed. * * * * * I had a wicked dream. What do you imagine? I ran away with a circus rider. 10th—I made the acquaintance of a Japanese woman. She must have been passing her thirty springs. I could be accurate in my scale, being one of her sisterhood. A cigar-stand keeper in Dupont Street. Her name is O Fuji San.