little blue towels decorated with storks and
humorous subjects.

Good heavens! what can he have been doing to be so hot, and to have put
himself in such a state?

He tells me that near our house, a little farther up the mountain,
he has discovered a fencing-gallery: that till nightfall he had been
engaged in a fencing-bout against Japanese, who fought with two-handed
swords, springing like cats, as is the custom of their country. With his
French method of fencing, he had given them a good drubbing. Upon which,
with many a low bow, they had shown him their admiration by bringing him
a quantity of nice little iced things to drink. All this combined had
thrown him into a fearful perspiration.

Ah, very well! Nevertheless, this did not quite explain to me!

He is delighted with his evening; intends to go and amuse himself every
day by beating them; he even thinks of taking pupils.

Once his back is dried, all together, the three mousmes and himself,
play at Japanese pigeon-vole. Really I could not wish for anything more
innocent, or more correct in every respect.

Charles N----and Madame Jonquille, his wife, arrived unexpectedly about
ten o'clock. (They were wandering about in the dark shrubberies in our
neighborhood, and, seeing our lights, came up to us.)

They intend to finish the evening at the tea-house of the toads, and
they try to induce us to go and drink some iced sherbets with them. It
is at least an hour's walk from here, on the other side of the town,
halfway up the hill, in the gardens of the large pagoda dedicated to
Osueva; but they stick to their idea, pretending that in this clear
night and bright moonlight we shall have a lovely view from the terrace
of the temple.

Lovely, I have no doubt, but we had intended going to bed. However, be
it so, let us go with them.

We hire five djins and five cars down below, in the principal street,
in front of Madame Tres-Propre's shop, who, for this late expedition,
chooses for us her largest round lanterns-big, red balloons, decorated
with starfish, seaweed, and green sharks.

It is nearly eleven o'clock when we make our start. In the central
quarters the virtuous Nipponese are already closing their little booths,
putting out their lamps, shutting the wooden framework, drawing their
paper panels.

Farther on, in the old-fashioned suburban streets, all is shut up long
ago, and our carts roll on through the black night. We cry out to our
djins: "Ayakou! ayak