Hashimura Togo, Domestic Scientist
“Sometimes one way, sometimes different,” she pronounce. “Walking, setting down, quarreling, flirtating, seeing emotion-picture show, obtaining drunkenness, getting married or arrested—all are good ways for servant on Thursday.”

I thank her from the stomack of my soul and fill my brain with joy-thoughts about that nice date of afternoon I should spend. It were Monday when she say this. Each day afterwards my gladness become pretty plenty when I think what light amusement it should be. I fill my mentality with plans for frivolity. Maybe I should go to hear Rev. Dr. Soyanada lecture on Mr. Ibsen. Or perhapsly I might walk in Unnatural History Museum admiring skeletons. These light joys seem pretty happy—but O!—of suddenly I think something better. I should write my cousin Nogi for meet me in G. A. R. Cemetery where we could learn American language by reading biographies on monuments.

Thursday morning arrive up. Such beauty of day! Air was clear like alcohol, making blueness of sky which removed blueness from heart. I13 never observed better day for servants to see cemeteries. At 11 I eloped to room for make slight brush to shoes & derby.

13

Lunch time arrive.

“Togo,” report Hon. Mrs. Hoke, poking unprepared head into kitchen, “you will be unexpectedly detained at home this afternoon; so sorry. I shall give bridge-gamble for 48 friends this and 6 additional must remain for dinner-eat.”

Door-slam was her next reply.

Mr. Editor, have you ever been retained in kitchen, manufacturing lemonade-drunk for ladies while Nature stand outside whistling for you? Amidst such sorrows your fingers shuffle their feet and your soul refuses. I attempt to bake cake while enjoying these pains; but you cannot make cake arise when your heart contains no yeast.

All through brightness of afternoon bridge-gamble continue while I poke forth chocolate. At lateness of 11.22 p.m. 6 additional persons depart off from dinner-eat. I go bed without congratulation.

Next morning Hon. Mrs. report to kitchen with shameface.

“So careless, I forgot Thursday!” she guggle.

“Could you not forget Monday or Wednesday next time?” I acknowledge.

“When Thursday comes again, remind me it is here,” she snuggest while tucking her hairs.


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