The boys were all anxiety to take a walk through the streets of Yokohama, and could hardly wait for the Doctor to arrange matters with the hotel-keeper. In a little while everything was determined, and the party went out for a stroll. The Doctor led the way, and took them to the Japanese portion of the city, where they were soon in the midst of sights that were very curious to them. They stopped at several shops, and looked at a great variety of Japanese goods, but followed the advice of the Doctor in deferring their purchases to another time. Frank thought of the things he was to buy for his sister Mary, and also for Miss Effie; but as they were not to do any shopping on their first day in Japan, he did not see any occasion for opening the precious paper that Mary had confided to him previous to his departure.
They had a walk of several hours, and on their return to the hotel were quite weary enough to rest awhile. Frank and Fred had a whispered conversation while the Doctor was talking with an old acquaintance; and as soon as he was at liberty they told him what they had been conversing about.
"We think we want to write home now, Doctor," said Frank, "and wish to know if you approve of our doing so to-day."
"By all means," replied the Doctor, with a smile; "it is time to begin at once. You are in a foreign country and there are plenty of things to write about. Your information will be to a great extent new and interesting to your friends, and the reasons that I gave you for not writing a long letter from Niagara do not exist here."
"I thought you would say so," responded Fred, his eyes sparkling with animation, "and I want to write while everything is fresh in my mind. I am going to write at once."
"And so am I," echoed Frank; "here goes for a letter to friends at home."
Off the boys ran for their writing materials, and in a little while they were seated on the balcony of the hotel, and making their pens fairly fly over the paper.
Here is the letter from Frank to his mother:
"I wish you could see me just now. I am sitting on the veranda of the hotel, and Fred is at the table with me. If we look up from our paper, we can see out upon the bay, where lots of ships are at anchor, and where a whole fleet of Japanese fishing-boats are coming up and dragging their nets along after them. Down in the street in front of us there are some funny-looking men with trousers as tight as their skins, and making the men look a great deal smaller than they are. They have hats like small umbrellas, and made of plaited straw, to keep the sun off, and they have them tied down under the chin with cords as big as a clothes-line. Doctor Bronson says these are the lower class of Japanese, and that we haven't seen the fine people yet. There are three musicians, at least they are called so, but I can't see that they make much that I should call music. One of them has on one of those great broad hats, another has his head covered with a sort of small cap, while the third has his skull shaven as smooth as a door-knob. The man with the hat on is blowing a whistle and ringing a small bell, the second is beating on a brass plate with a tiny drumstick, while the third has a pair of clappers which he knocks together, and he sings at the same time. Each of them seems to pay no attention to the rest, but I suppose they think they are playing a tune. Two of them have their legs bare, but they have sandals on their feet, held in place by cords or thongs. The man with the hat must be the leader, as he is the only one that wears trousers, and, besides, he has a pocket-book hung to his girdle. I wonder if they make much money out of the music they are playing?