We remembered our packed trunks and rushed back to the Imperial Hotel, believing, certainly, that it had collapsed. "Wright's wreck," this curious building had been called. Every: one, including the management; had been certain that. ite would disappear with the first serious earthquake. Everyone had been' told that the funny nooks and corners, the crevices and mazes, this structure of Java stone and brown brick would be ashes at' the slightest tremor of the earth. But there it stood, serene and' calm, amidst surrounding ruin, majestic in its peacefulness and poise, the only unharmed, un-seathed, untouched building in Tokio. Already foreigners from all parts of Tokio were coming there for safety, but no one trusted the interior. In the courtyards and along the street on the outside baggage and personal belongings were placed. The management immediately had ordered water turned off and had closed its restaurant and bars The danger of buildings being gutted by broken mains and pipes was as serious as the fire. There was no tiffin. No one wanted food. One thought only of life and wondered how long it would be before we too were drawn into the flaming cauldron, when we too would be pinned under a falling beam.
A friend came along. Ashen grey. Frightencd. His wife, a Japanese woman, had. disappeared. Woe walked a short distant, past what was once a Shinto temple. Beyond was only debris.: His wife was no more. A young Japanese rushed back to say that his family had disappeared. - The Imperial University was in flames. Street cars were burning. The end had come.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.