DEAR PROFESSOR,--Nay! I return into my shell for another twelve
months at least. You see--I thought you were going away, and felt a
little sorry, and therefore went to that dreadful hotel and let you
hand me over for an afternoon to your American friend who quotes
Nordau's "Degeneration," but that was really, for me, supreme heroism
of self-sacrifice.... (By the way, I have seen too much of that type
of man elsewhere to be altogether delighted with him: superficies of
bonhomie, studied suggestions of sympathy, core hard as Philadelphia
pressed brick: he _swarms_ in America; and I much prefer the Gullman
brand.) As for a party of four,--"_Compania de cuatro, compania del
diablo!_" The only way I can have a friend in these parts is to make
this condition: "Never introduce me; and never ask me to meet you in
a crowd." You ought to recognize, surely, that I couldn't afford to
be known and liked, even if that were possible. I can "keep up my end"
only by strictly following the good maxim: _Tachez de n'avoir besoin de
personne_. Now, really, dear Professor, why should I lose an evening of
(to me) precious work, and tire myself, merely to sit down with Mr. G.
and Mr. M.? What do I care for Mr. G. or Mr. M.? What do I care for the
whole foreign community of Tōkyō? Why should I go two steps out of
my way for the sake of men that I know nothing about, and do not want
to know anything about? "Life is too short," as the Americans say. With
thanks all the same,
Crankily yours,
LAFCADIO HEARN.
Next time--next two times we meet--it is my turn to play host, remember.