I love to see a man smoking. The elfish smoke acts like a merry-hearted May gossamer. When I observe a man’s eye pursuing his smoke, I say to myself that his soul must be stepping nearer to his ideal. The road of smoke is the road of poesy. A noble trade is tobacco. Man’s hermitage is situated only in smoking, I should say. I divested my uncle of his coat. I begged him to hold a bucket and a piece of cloth for a moment. “Are you ready to wash the windows, Uncle?” I said. “Traitor, Morning Glory!” He flashed his accusing glare. Docile old man! He cleaned four windows of the kitchen, which was also the dining-room and the parlour. I paid him five cents for each. I said: “It’s good fun to hire the chief secretary of the Nippon Mining Company to rub windows, isn’t it?” And I laughed. Then I forced him to buy a cigar. “You made some twenty cents out of me. Your turn is coming, my uncle!” I said. I sold him a box of Lillian Russell cigars for three dollars. The real price was two. Ha, ha, ha! 12th—I invited my precious Ada to my store to dine _à la Japonaise_. One Jap restaurant catered to it. “Irrashaimashi! Condescend to enter!” I showered my wooden-clogged greeting over Ada. From “The Klondyke,” my neighbouring saloon, a nigger song was flapping in. “If you ain’t got no money, you needn’t come round.” Happy Ada San! She was about to join in it, when I brought her into my great dining-room. (Beg pardon, it was a paltry kitchen!) Everything was seen on the table. Japanese dinner has no strict order of courses. You are a frolicsome butterfly among the dishes set like flowers before you. You may flit straight to any one which catches your whim. “Take your honourable chop-sticks!” I said. Poor Miss Ada! “How shall I manage with one stick?” she raised her eyelids in questioning meekness. I bade her to split the stick in two. It was a brand new wooden one. I showed her how to finger it. She nibbled a bit from each dish. Every time she tasted she looked upon me with a suspicious smile. And how she slipped her sticks at the critical moment! The sight amused me hugely. “How dare I swallow raw fishes!” she said shrinking. “What delight I taste in them!” I slammed back at her timidity. Then I dipped a few cuts of the fishes into a porcelain soy pan for my mouth. I even trampled into her fish-dish by and by. She was literally terrified. The feast was over. I said, “Go yukkuri! Honourable not-to-be-in-a-hurry!” I slid away. I tied my white apron like a shop girl. I was glad that I did not forget to push a lead-pencil through my hair. I presented myself to Ada carrying a cigarette box. “Will you buy tobacco for your lord?” I spread the box before her. “How much for one packet,” she asked with the charming arrogance of a customer. She was acting also. “To-day is the memorial day of Lord Nono Sama. My sweet Oku San, allow me to make a reduction!” Then we laughed. [Illustration: