Letters from China and Japan

								

plate and I fancy they were intended as souvenirs for the foreign
guests, but I forgot to take mine, if that was their purpose. We had
soup, bread of two kinds, and butter. Then fish patties, then little
birds, boned, on toast with a vegetable, then ramekins of Japanese
macaroni, which is not like ours. Next roast beef, very tender fillet,
with potato balls, peas, gravy, another vegetable forgot, and salad,
white and red wine, coming after the orange cider. Then a delicious
pudding, then cake and strawberries. Those berries are raised out of
doors. They are planted between rows of stones which are heated
artificially, I did not quite understand how, the vines being kept from
touching the stones by low bamboo trellises. Whipped cream served with
the berries. Then delicious coffee in foreign style.
After dinner we leave the reception room in foreign style and go
upstairs to the big Japanese room, sit by the hibashi or the grate, and
here the children come. At once tea is served. Then just as we were
starting for home we were urged to stay for a drink, which was more
orange cider, very sweet, and bottled waters, which are so good and come
from the many natural springs. One of the amusements of the Japanese is
seeing the foreign visitors try to sit, and you can't wonder they are
amused. I can manage it, in awkward fashion, but your father can't even
bend for the pose. On Sunday we sat for two hours in the presence of the
greatest Buddhist priest in Japan, and you can guess whether we wriggled
and if my feet were asleep if you try the pose for a few minutes
yourself, even on a nice soft cushion as we were. Getting up properly is
the hardest part of it.

TOKYO, Tuesday, March 4.

Our friends took us to Kamakura; it isn't interesting reading these
things in advance in guide books, so I don't think a description will be
interesting, but something over seven hundred years ago, the first
Shogun rulers settled there and made it their capital, of which nothing
is now left save the Buddhist temples. We met on the train going down
the professor of Japanese literature in the University, who was going
there because it was the seventh hundred anniversary of a Shogun who
wrote poetry, and the professor was going over to lecture on his poems.
Also we ran across several hundred school children, boys and girls with
their teachers, who were spending Sunday seeing the historic sights. One
of the big temples to the god of war was a kind of museum, with old
swords and masks and things in it. They took us to call on the Reverend
Shaku, who is the head of the Zen sect of Buddhists in Japan, and who
talked--including the interpreter--about two hours, in answer to
questions about Buddhism, especially his variety. It was very
interesting. We were ushered into a Japanese room, beautiful
proportions, a lovely kakemono in the alcove--it's a scroll, not a
kimono--and a five-legged little table made of metal with