Dragons and Cherry Blossoms

								

will probably arrive during the season of travel, and so be enabled
to see the house at its best. If one or two of the foreign ships are
in the harbour, and the officers come ashore, a scene of unusual
attractiveness is sure to follow. A military band plays during dinner,
commonly discoursing the patriotic airs of the different nations,
though a well-known western march is frequently interspersed. The rooms
are trimmed with flowers; there are ladies in bright, pretty gowns,
men in evening dress, and Japanese “boys” in blue tights, white coats,
and stocking feet. The gathering is decidedly cosmopolitan. You can
talk with an American on stocks, an Englishman on golf, a Frenchman on
Panama, or a Russian on the Triple Alliance. If you only step out on
the piazza and take a short stroll, you will have a fine opportunity
to gratify your taste for contrast, for it will be stepping from the
Occident to the Orient. Perhaps the moon is shining--and the moon seems
to shine differently in Japan than at home. There, below you, lies the
land you thought you were being cheated out of; there are the small
one-storied houses, the narrow streets, all bathed in the silence that
so well fits your mood. A few lights are blinking below, but for the
most part you see only what the moonlight cares to reveal. Off in the
harbour are large shadowy forms which you know are western vessels, and
your spirit feels a touch of old-fashioned patriotism at the thought
that one of them is flying the American flag. The sound of the music
comes from the distance, and you know that the dancing has begun; but
you care little at the present time for such occidental diversions.
In the morning the sun will probably be shining in a truly oriental
way, and you think it might be well to take a drive. Probably the
first thing you will see, will be a large number of young Japanese
girls, apparently out for a walk. Though they are clad in their
own native costumes and have a general appearance that is decidedly
Japanese, there is yet an air about them suggestive of the West. You
puzzle over the matter for some time, and at last, with a sudden
burst of intelligence, exclaim: “A boarding-school.” And you are
right; these young girls are being trained in the usages of the best
English society, and have begun to dabble in French and algebra in a
true boarding-school style. As they pass you by and you go on, you
will see many small children attended by Japanese amahs, and baby
carriages meet you everywhere. There are also a few shops scattered
around, and looking to the left you will see the British flag waving
above the marine hospital. A little further on, your heart gives a
bound, for you see the stars and stripes waving in the breeze, and
you think that being an American is not so bad after all, whatever
the foreigner may say of our confusion of “baggage” and “luggage” and
our use of ice-water at dinner. It is the American hospital, a large,