TŌKYŌ, April, 1898.
DEAR FRIEND,--The holidays are over; and the winter is still dying hard.
We are all feeling pretty well now notwithstanding,--and my imp was
down yesterday to Ueno, in the sea of people, trying to get a glimpse
of things. Because he had a naval uniform on, he became quite angry at
the _kurumaya_ for proposing to lift him up to look over the heads of
the people. The K. wisely answered: "I know you are a man--but then you
must think that I am a horse only, and ride on my back. Even military
men ride horses, you know!" Subsequently, the imp had to submit to
circumstances,--swallowed his pride,--and got on the man's back. I liked
the pride, though: it was the first flash of the man-spirit in him.
I wonder if you are ever tired simply of living! That is what the
weather made me for a time. Glimpses of sun now seem quite delicious.
Well, it is the same way with my Yokohama friend. If I saw him too
often, I should not feel quite so warm in the sunshine that he can
make--should begin to think the light a normal and usual, instead of
a most extraordinary condition. There is one thing, however, that I
hope to live to see: M. McD. in a private residence of his own, and a
beautiful young Mrs. McD. therein.
If the quarrel with Spain does nothing else, perhaps it will stir up
the American people to make a good-sized navy in short order. With so
many thousand miles of coast to defend they are at a big disadvantage
compared with most European powers. I see that Captain Mahan has been
getting out a new book on the subject, just at the right time. What a
lucky author he has been on the whole; and all circumstances seem to
have actually bent themselves in his favour.
Affectionately, with regards to the doctor and all friends,