uth, "I didn't quite catch what you said--I
mean what I said."

The reporter translated it over again.

"Perhaps," said I nervously, "it's a misprint."

"No," the reporter replied gravely, "Miss Younger-Rady."

"Gracious!" said Orthodocia.

"And if by the rai-road we emproy the steamer, the commerce of Montreal
and Japan will prevail. Correspondent asked to Miss Younger-Rady may I
heard the story of your caravansery?"

Orthodocia again retired. It was a little trying for me, but when he
continued, "She answered, 'From Montreal to Canada the distance is
three thousand mires,'" I was glad she had gone. I am afraid I choked a
little at this point, for just here he decided to wrestle with the
pencil himself. When he handed the paper back again I read: "While we
are passing the distance between Mount Rocky I had a great danger, for
the snow over the mountain is falling down, and the railroad shall be
cut off. Therefore, by the snowshade, which is made by the tree, its
falling was defend. Speaking finish. The ladies is to took their
caravansery attending among a few days. Ladies has the liability of
many news."

"That last item," said Orthodocia, who had come in with the excuse of
some tea, "is frightfully correct."

Having despatched the business of the hour and a half, the reporter
began to enjoy himself, while Orthodocia and I tried to seat ourselves
where we couldn't see each other's faces in the mirror over the
mantelpiece. He drank his tea with his head on a level with the table,
and if suction can express approval it was expressed. He said that
there were fourteen editorial writers on his _shimbun_, and that its
circulation was one million. Which shows that for the soul of a
newspaper man Shintoism has no obvious advantages. He dwelt upon the
weather for quarters of an hour at a time. The Japanese are such a
leisurely people. He took more tea, by this time stone cold. He said he
would bring a Japanese "gentleman and rady" to see us, and in response
to our inquiry as to whether the lady was the wife or the sister of the
gentleman, he said, with gravity, "I do not know the rady's wife." He
asked us for our photographs, and when Orthodocia retired at this for
the fifth time he thought she had gone to get them, and stayed until I
was compelled to go and pray her to return. It was the ringing of the
two o'clock lunch bell that suggested to him that the day was waning,
and that perhaps he had better wane too.