It was a small group.

One of the speakers of the evening said: "Perhaps you Americans do not realize that this banquet is an unusual occasion in j.a.pan. I think that it is the first time that I have ever attended a banquet in all my life, when so many j.a.panese gentlemen had their own wives with them at that banquet. It is a very unusual thing to do, but I hope that, in time, it will become more common in j.a.pan, as it is in America."

This speech was met with amused laughter on the part of the j.a.panese gentlemen present; but laughter that was kindly; and it was met with applause on the part of the Americans present.

It was typical of the att.i.tude of even the educated j.a.panese man toward the matter of appearing in public with his wife at his side.

Up in Sapporo, on the island of Hokkaido, we were entertained by a beautiful j.a.panese woman. We had been away from America for several months and were tired of eating j.a.panese food, so when we were invited to this j.a.panese home for a dinner we groaned.

But much to our delight, when we sat down we had as fine an American dinner as any of us had ever eaten.

I turned to our hostess, a most beautiful j.a.panese woman; the wife of the Dean of the College at Sapporo; and said: "Do you have servants who know how to cook American food?"

"No, I cooked it all myself!" she said much to my surprise with a bow and a smile.

And there she sat, cool and poised after having cooked food enough for fifteen people that morning; and arranging for it to be served in the finest style; with place cards, salted almonds, Turkey, pudding, vegetables and everything that makes an American dinner good; including a fine salad. There she sat; as cool, calm and collected as if servants had done all of the work that morning instead of she herself.

And never in all of my life have I seen a more gracious hostess. She watched the wants of every guest. She noted which guests liked a special food, and saw to it that they had plenty of that particular food; and, in addition to this she kept a fascinating line of conversation going constantly during the meal.

"Do you live in American fashion or j.a.panese fashion?" I asked her, knowing that she had been educated in America.

"Both!" was her reply. "We have j.a.panese rooms for our j.a.panese guests and American rooms for our European and American guests."

"But how do you live yourselves; how are you training your children?" I asked her.

"We are training our daughters to live in American style; on a common ground with the men. That is the better way. That is the fairer way!

That is the way out of our feminine darkness!"

She said it quietly, with poise, and with a fine a.s.surance which was thrilling. It sounded like a call to battle, like a trumpet note in the new freedom for women.

A missionary friend told me at the conclusion of that meal that this beautiful young j.a.panese hostess whispered to her Mother-in-law during the dinner a phrase that sounded strangely like American slang, when she noted that her mother-in-law was not carrying on much of a conversation with the man beside her, "Start something! He can speak j.a.panese as well as English!"

At that, dear Mrs. Mother-in-law started an animated conversation in j.a.panese with her silent guest on her left. This was ill.u.s.trative of the care with which our hostess was watching that we be kept happy at her table. It was a Feminine Flash-light that I do not care to forget; an ill.u.s.tration of the possible efficiency, poise, grace, beauty and sweetness of the j.a.panese woman of the future when she shall have won her rights of freedom from the slavery of an inferior position to man in the social scale.

To an American, the position of woman in regard to prost.i.tution in j.a.pan is a terrible thing, but when we consider the light in which the Ethical thought of j.a.pan sees it, we do not blame the women any more than Jesus blamed the woman taken in adultery in his day.

The system of prost.i.tution is run by the Government and the largest income that the Government has, comes from the sale of Sake, the national drink, and its houses of prost.i.tution.

A woman who becomes a Prost.i.tute is looked upon as a heroine. This is for the simple reason that she is given a matter of several hundred yen, it depending upon her form, beauty and qualifications for her position; and that money goes to her poor parents. When she leaves her little village to give a certain number of the years of her life to the Yoshiwara in order to free her parents from debt she is lauded and feted by the people of her village and sent off as one who goes on a crusade of service.

Prost.i.tution is so much a part of the acknowledged life of j.a.pan that Temples for prost.i.tutes exist where they may go and pray. In one Temple we saw large numbers of photographs put up by certain girls of the Yoshiwara to advertise their wares.

Consequently there is no fine tradition of ethical values established in j.a.pan and the poor girl herself is not to blame. Nor is she blamed; for it is not at all an uncommon thing for a j.a.panese girl to marry out of a house of prost.i.tution into a fine family.

One of the terrible Feminine Flash-lights that every careful traveler discovers in the Orient is the presence of j.a.panese girls in the segregated sections of Shanghai, Seoul, Peking, Nanking; and even so far away as Singapore. I understand however that a recent order from the Emperor has called all these girls back to j.a.pan, which is an upward step not only for j.a.pan as a nation; but for the womankind of j.a.pan.

It was in a j.a.panese Hotel in northern China that Pat McConnell and I had our experience with the strange ways and customs of j.a.pan. Pat was taking the pictures and I was writing the stories.

We thought it would be an unusual experience to stay all night at a regular j.a.panese Inn. We stayed.

That night, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt, of the missionaries who stayed with us, three beautiful j.a.panese girls came gracefully into the cold room where we had started to take our clothes off.

They bowed several times as they came with cups of hot tea.

They seemed to pay particular attention to me.

All three of them bowed to me first and then each proceeded to select an individual man to whom they served tea.

I took it for granted that they had paid this particular attention to me because of some special characteristic of masculine beauty or intellectual appearance; or atmosphere of greatness that must have hovered about me in some unknown fashion.

I made the mistake of swelling up with pride and bragging about this attention that I had received.

"Ah, that's because of your bald head. They think that you are the old man of the party. They have great respect for old age!" the missionary said with a roar of laughter.

The truth of the matter was that I was the youngest of the party, but those girls had selected me as the venerable member of the group of Americans.

But the climax came when these young ladies decided to stay with us "To the bitter end" as Pat called it.

After filling us with tea they still remained; bowing and smiling; even though they could not understand a word we were saying nor we a word that they were saying.

"It's one o'clock now! I'd like to get to bed," said Pat.

"How long will they stay with us?" I asked.

The missionaries only grinned in reply.

"By George, I'm going to take my shirt off and see if they won't go!"

said Pat.

He took it off. The young girl who was serving him took his shirt and after neatly folding it, laid it carefully away.

"So that's what they're waiting for; to undress us?" queried Pat and the missionaries laughed again, waiting to see what would happen.

"They can go as far as they like. If they can stand it, I can!" said Pat.

Then he took off his shoes.

A young lady took the shoes, carefully brushed them off, and put them away. Then he took off socks, followed by his trousers.

It looked as they would stay until Pat got into his Pajamas. He was in a corner.

"It seems as if this young lady wants to put me to bed right!" said Pat, with a grin.

"That's exactly what she is here for. It's a hotel custom in j.a.panese hotels and we get so that we don't think anything of it. They bathe in the same pool; men and women alike; and think nothing of it. After all, modesty is not entirely a matter of clothes, as the j.a.panese prove."

"Anyhow, that's what I call service!" said Pat with a grin.