ABSTRACT
WHENEVER our roaming along the byways of Japan brought us to the door of a missionary home we went in and found a welcome. There was always room for two more at the missionary’s table, and if we could stay for the night there were always futon enough for a couple of extra beds. This hospitality was due partly, perhaps, to the fact that both he and we were far from home, partly to the genial influence of Japan, where the very atmosphere breathes welcome, but chiefly because the missionary himself was a good fellow—a man living pleasantly and setting a wholesome example.
