Throughout this weary, enervating afternoon, the Japanese people, men and women, were calm, stolid, peaceful. Those who could had moved into parks and had there improvised dwellings. Perhaps it is not much to change from a thatched hut in a street to a matshed in a park, but there was no hysteria, no undue excitement, no anger, no assertion of ego. A kindliness pervaded all these plain, simple people, a willingness to help which _perhaps had not been visible an hour before. In Hibiya Park, opposite the Imperial Hotel, thousands were now making themselves at home and helping one another. The ability to take care of themselves, the willingness to minimize the difficulties of the catastrophe was the outstanding fact of the frst day.
Meanwhile the city burned in spots. The first, strong shock of the earthquake had not done as 4 Hotel was an electric station, Soon much damage at was at first believed—Some of the larger buildings were badly cracked and' were being more seriously damaged by each subsequent shock' (there were 300 earthquakes during the first 24 hours) but on the whole, the city was still safe. But the fire! Could the fire be stopped? Would the wind turn? Would the 70 mile gale die down? We all stood about, thousands, tens of thousands of us, wondering, helpless, praying, hopeless. On the roof of the "Advertiser" building stood a young Japanese, a Hindu and an American boy throwing water and Pyrene on surrounding buildings in the hope of saving their paper. Their lives were in danger, but for five hours they fought thd sparks which the wind blew upon the thatched roofs. For five hours young men in many parts of the city laboured to save What was soon to disappear in one raging flame which enlivened the heavees at night and turned this city of millions into a boiling crematory.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.