teeth, and so appear at the meeting in even rows of becoming white ivories like their unmarried sisters.  Numbers of curious outsiders congregate about the open doors and peep in and stand and listen to the sermon of Mr. Carey, and the singing.  The hymns are sung to the same tunes as in America, the words being translated into Japanese.  Everybody seems to enjoy the singing, and they listen intently to the sermon.

After the sermon, several prominent members of the congregation stand up and address their countrymen and women in convincing words and gestures.  Mr. Carey tells me that any ordinary Jap seems capable of delivering a fluent, off-hand exposition of his views in public without special effort or embarrassment.  Altogether the Japanese Christian congregation, gathered here in ita own church, sitting on the floor, singing, sermonizing, and looking happy, is a novel and interesting sight to see.  One can imagine missionary life among the genial Japs as being very pleasant.

Saturday and Sunday pass pleasantly away, and, with happy memories of the little missionary colony, I wheel away from Oko-yama on Monday morning, passing through a country of rich rice-fields and numerous villages for some miles.  The scene then changes into a beautiful country of small lakes and pine-covered hills, reminding me very much of portions of the Berkshire Hills, Mass.  The weather is cool and clear, and the road splendid, although in places somewhat hilly.

Fifty-three miles are duly scored when, at three o’clock in the afternoon, I arrive at the city of Himeji.  The yadoya here is a superior sort of a place, and Himeji numbers among its productions European pan (bread), steak, and bottled beer.  The Japs are themselves rapidly coming to an appreciation of this latter article, and even to manufacture it, a big brewery being already established somewhere near Tokio.  A couple of young dandies of “New Japan” drop in during the evening, send out for bottles of beer, and seem to take particular delight in showing off their appreciation of the newly introduced beverage before their countrymen of the “ancient regime.”

Beyond Himeji one leaves behind the mountains, emerging upon a broad, level, rice-producing plain, which extends eastward to Kobe and the sea-shore.  The fine level road traversing the plain passes through numerous towns and villages, and for the latter half of the distance skirts the shore.  Old dismantled stone forts, tea-houses, eating-stalls, fishermen’s huts, house-boats, and swarms of jinrikishas and pedestrians make their sea-shore road lively and interesting.  The single artery through which the life of all the southern tributary country ebbs and flows to trade at the busiest treaty port in Japan, this road is constantly swarming with people.  Over the Minato-gawa Kiver by an elevated bridge, and one finds himself in a broad street leading through Hiogo to Kobe.  These two cities are practically joined together, although