Sakai is a queer place for swimming. The currents change three times every day, and twice at least become very strong. One who cannot swim far has to be careful. Straws in the water show the way of the current near shore; but in the middle there are cross-currents going the other way.
There were eight foreign officers on the Meiji Maru. They were very kind to us. The captain (his name is Poole) was decorated with the 3d Order of the Rising Sun (I think) and got a present of $2000 for services during the war,--the transport-service, of course. He told me some very interesting things about the behaviour of the soldiery,--very nice things.
I felt unhappy at the [=O]hashi, because you waited so long, and I had no power to coax you to go home. I can still see you sitting there so kindly and patiently,--in the great heat of that afternoon. Write soon,--if only a line in Japanese,--to tell us how you are.
Kaji-_chan_ remembers you, and sends his little greeting to Nishida-San no Oji-San. We all hope to have another summer with you next year.
Ever faithfully, with warmest regards of all,
I still see you sitting at the wharf to watch us go. I think I shall always see you there.
DEAR HENDRICK,--I am in immediate and awful need of books, and am going to ask you to put me into communication with a _general book-dealer_ to whom I can send P. O. orders, and who will mail me books directly on receipt of cash. It is hopeless ordering through local book-dealers,--not simply because of charges and errors, but because of enormous delays. On a separate sheet I enclose some titles of what I badly want for the moment; and I am sending some cash. This said, I promise not to trouble you further _except when I can't help it_. See what a nuisance I am!
You may well believe me in a hurry when I send a letter with such a beginning. Imagine my position:--a professor of literature without books, improvising lectures to students without books. I reached T[=o]ky[=o] about seven days ago, and have not yet got a house,--but am living in a hotel. At present I can give you no valid impressions:--everything is a blur. But so far the position does not seem disagreeable--rather the reverse. In fact I am afraid to express my satisfaction,--remembering Polyxenes. The salary is 400 yen,--and in Japan, a yen is a dollar though it is only fifty-odd cents in America. Old pupils of Izumo and elsewhere gather round me, welcoming me, delighted--some needing help and winning it--some needing only sympathy. Professors far off, moving in separate and never-colliding orbits. I can teach for years--if I please--without ever seeing any of my colleagues. But Government favour, you know, is uncertain. The chances are that I shall hold on for three years at least.