I can understand some people not liking the Japanese—especially their men—but all were to me so charming in every way I never felt inclined to do anything but respond, though I was not blind to defects.
For instance, nothing was more disagreeable and objectionable than the universal custom of clearing their throats loudly and expectorating.
I shall never forget a charming little lady in a first-class saloon in the train coming from Tokio. Everything about her was so dainty, delicate, and fascinating. Every single man—all Europeans—in that long carriage was bending forward watching her; lost to everything but her charm. She smoked her tiny cigarette out of her tiny case—the little demure witch perfectly conscious of the interest she excited—but all of a sudden she leant forward and spat the whole length of the carriage into the spittoon at the end! Tableau! But I believe she did it on purpose, out of pure mischief.
Once I was buying photographs, and wanted some coloured ones they did not have, so the girl said they would colour them at once if I did not mind waiting. I never did mind waiting in Japan. She came to entertain me meanwhile, and, with perfect taste, considered the best way would be to tell me all about herself and her family. They were Christians—there are quite old Christian families in Japan—but yes, they went to the temples to amuse themselves. She had a sister studying at college in America. She herself longed for the day when they had such colleges in Japan for girls; but they would some day, as all Japanese wanted to improve themselves and learn. She told me all about her family and friends and their doings in the most simple and natural way—and on departure must pop in some tiny trifle with the photographs as
