fresh fish, some lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and cucumbers or radishes. But it will be dark before we reach home, for as soon as we leave here we shall go to one of the baths. You know we people who handle coal all day long must be very dirty at night."
I inquired of the man if there was not something I could get him from the ship. He replied that he would be very glad to have some water, and handed me a bucket in which to bring it. I returned to the lighter with distilled water that had passed through an icepacked "worm." My man thanked me, took a sip of the water, and spat it overboard.
"Too cold," he remarked. "I will set it in the sun for a little while."
That same evening I had the good fortune to be invited with my native friend to the house of a well-to-do and liberal Japanese merchant. My host, his wife, two sons and a daughter, my friend and myself, seated ourselves in a circle on the floor, while three trim little maids set out before us the evening meal. Just as nearly as I can remember it to-day the menu of the repast ran as follows:
