rus girls at Jack's to high grade actresses, and these were of the
upper kind. He said he wished us to see something of true Japan which
few foreigners saw, this referring to the restaurant as well as the
dancing. They won't receive anybody who isn't an old client or friend of
one of these high toned places. But the ladies of the party thought he
was especially interested in one of the girls. Personally I think the
dancing and music are much more interesting than they are reported to be
in the guide books.

The next day we went to the primitive Ise shrines, arriving cross and
hungry at about two, but bound to get the pilgrimage over, especially as
it wasn't good weather. Yamada, where the sacred shrines are, is a very
beautiful place, with wooded hills and little streams. The trees are
largely cryptomerias, which are evidently some relative of the
California redwoods, and while not nearly as tall, make much the same
effect. It is a darling spot, filled with the usual thousands of carpet
bagger (literally the old Brussel carpet bags) pilgrims. As previously
reported I toted a borrowed frock coat and stovepipe hat. Our guide said
special clothing was not needed for the ladies. I put on my war paint,
and the chief priest having been written from Tokyo of our impending
arrival, an hour had been set. At the outermost gate, the Torii, the
ceremony of purification, took place. We had water poured out on our
hands out of a little ceremonial cup and basin and then the priest
sprinkled salt on us; nobody else had this but us. Then when we got to
the fence gate, we were told that the ladies not having "visiting
dresses," whatever they are, couldn't go inside, but that I should be
treated as of the same rank as an Imperial professor and allowed to go.
I forgot to say that we had a gendarme in front of us to shoo the vulgar
herd out of our way. Then we marched slowly in behind the priest, on
stones brought from the seaside, through a picket fence to designated
spots near the next fence, I being allowed nearer to the gate than our
Japanese guide; and we worshiped, that is bowed. I got my bow over
disgracefully quick, but I think our Japanese conductor stood at least
fifteen minutes.

KYOTO, April 15.

Here we are in the Florence of Japan, and even more to see if possible
than in Italy. We have had a rainy day to-day, which is perhaps a good
beginning for a week of constant sightseeing. This morning we spent in
Yamanaka's--