ied three kinds, one wheat in a soup, one
buckwheat with fried shrimps, and another cold with seaweed. For the
entire lot for the two of us it cost 27 cents American money, and the
place, which was an ordinary one, was cleaner than any American one,
even the best. The movie story seemed more complicated than any of ours,
and was certainly slower, because there is a man and a woman in a little
coop near the curtain who say what the actors are saying whenever their
lips move, this gives a chance of course for more talk. There were a few
knockouts and a murder and a villain and a persecuted damsel, and an
attempted suicide to provide thrills, but I couldn't make out what it
was about even with the aid of the guide with me. Such are simple
pleasures here, save that when we walk in the daytime we generally go to
a temple where on the whole the people are more interesting than the
temples, though sometimes the layout of trees is beautiful and gives
much the same effect of religious calm as a cathedral. In general the
similarity between worship here and the country Italian Catholicism is
more striking than anything else. They are slightly more naive here--to
see the dolls, woolly dogs, and pinwheels at the shrines of the
children's gods, besides their straw slippers, straw sandals and an
occasional child's kimono is quite touching, also sometimes a mother has
cut off her hair and pinned it up as an offering. Other things are as
humorous as these are pathetic, such as making spitballs of written
prayers and pasting the god with them. Some of the gods are now
protected by wire netting on this account. I have got fairly well used
to the street scenes now and can tell most of the kinds of shops, such
as an undertaker's from a cooper's. What makes the street so interesting
is that you can look in and see everything going on. I forgot to mention
the most interesting street thing I've seen, a bird catcher with a long
limed pole like a bamboo fishing rod, a basket with a valve door to put
them in and some other utensils. I didn't see him catch any, though.

Sunday Morning, March 2.

I am writing early because we are going to-day to Kamakura. You have
probably heard of the big bronze Buddha--fifty feet high--well, that is
there. A friend has arranged an interview for us with the most
distinguished or most learned of the Buddhist priests in Japan--who
belongs to the most philosophical of all the sects, the Zen, which
believes i