A short distance from the hotel, their driver called to a youth who was standing at the curb. They conversed in a chopped sibilant jargon, then the driver asked permission to take on another driver, so that he himself might be free to designate and explain points of interest. “Of course,” said David. “And you had better come over in back so you won’t have to shout.” He came readily enough and sat on one of the little folding seats, with many apologies for occupying a place in front of them. Then began such a story of Japan and of Tokio that the past lived and the present blossomed for them. The Japanese, he said, had never been a roving people. They did not live by conquest. Japan’s rulers are well beloved, guiding their industrious subjects with kindly wisdom, as they forge ahead in agriculture and the arts on a high plane of civilization. Centuries ago, while all the rest of the world was new and racked by conflict, civil and foreign, the Japanese were taught to read and write. They drove through miles of streets as modern as the newest of American cities. Block after block of beautiful office buildings and shops with great windows full of the most up-to-date gowns and Paris ties, socks, and shirts. Snappy gloves laid over correct walking sticks that would have been a credit to the most exclusive Fifth Avenue shop. There were magnificent banks; and movie houses everywhere. “How big is this place, anyhow?” Red demanded at length. “They say it is a good bit bigger than Philadelphia,” said David. “And Philly is some town, you know.” It was strange indeed to see on all sides such perfect order and co-operation in a land so crowded that it was impossible to spare room for the domestic animals, the horses and cows so common to the rest of the world. Their guide dwelt upon the thousands of students, men and women, who had gone abroad to be educated, and to absorb new and advanced ideas, until Japan in her stupendous mental growth had supplied her people with universities and technical schools of their own. He showed them silkworms on their trays in warm rooms, endlessly eating the mulberry leaves heaped about them. They saw skeins of queer raw silk, and were given a strand for a souvenir. Then they went down to the wharves; and saw the agile little fishermen on their slow-moving boats. “Those boats look nice and peaceful,” said Red, staring at a dark, sullen ship. “Their dreadnaughts, over at Yokohama, are not so peaceful. They have to have ’em for protection,” said David. “All countries have to have protective navies.” “They sure looked as though they could protect, all right.” “We will try to go to Yokohama,” said the guide, “but not today. Not plenty enough time.”