TŌKYŌ, January, 1898.
DEAR McDONALD,--_After all_, instinct isn't a bad thing. Your
just-received excellent advice is precisely what my "blind instinct"--as
scientific men call it--told me. No: I shall do nothing without
consulting you.
Well, I imagine that not _next_ Friday, but the Friday after will be
most convenient to you. I'll try the later date, therefore. (Friday need
not be a Black Friday in Japan--I used to hate to do anything on that
day--landed in Japan on Good Friday (!) but now I belong to the Oriental
gods.)
Wonder if you know that the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ has sent a poet
here to write up Japan--M. André Bellesort. He is a man of big literary
calibre, and has a rare wife--who speaks Persian. About as charming a
Frenchwoman as one could wish to know. She speaks English, Italian, and
Spanish besides. Trying to get them interested in Amenomori. They are at
the Hotel Metropole,--perhaps on account of the Legation.
Faithfully and affectionately yours,
LAFCADIO HEARN.