We three came to the school to enroll. Mama was helping me to pack clothes neatly in a suitcase. We had a check for tuition, one for board and some cash. We asked for the principal. Man at desk said he was but we had to go elsewhere to register. Couldn't find place. So we started for place to pay board. Misdirected twice. At last told we'd find Ishizawa at dining room door. It was in the basement. I said, "I've been there before. I know the way." We went down. No Ishizawa, but we went in and sat at the table. I sat next to a large fat man, the others across the table. Two little girls in pink dresses were between me and the end of the table. Then I asked the nearest child if it was her first year. "Here, yes." But she had been in Chefoo. "You wanted an American school." "Yes." "Is the other girl your sister?" "No, but she has been with us a long time. Her mother died and mine took her." I see Miss W. get up and carry plate to kitchen at right. Other persons have plates with rice topped with tomato. I have none. I go to kitchen, find a whole row of waitresses eating. I complain, "I've had nothing, not one thing to eat." At last one gets up. I return to table. Child has no knife. I pass her one from the vacant place at right and from there get fork for self. J. shows me paper that explains Ishizawa here only certain hours, not until 1 p.m. on Saturday, today.