The Four Corners in Japan

"Such beautiful little lacquered and china sets of dishes they were, too; I felt like playing with them myself. When is there another festival, Mr. Montell?"

"I think the feast of the Cherry Blossoms will be the next important one, but there are little shows all the time, small temple festivals rather like a fair, such as one sees in Europe in the small towns."

"And can one buy things at them?"

Mr. Montell laughed. "The difficulty will be not to buy, for you will be pestered with persistent venders of all sorts of wares."

"We bought such a funny lot of little bodyless dolls to-day; we felt that we must have some, such dear little faces with downcast eyes and such a marvelous arrangement of hair. They were only five rin apiece. I am just learning the value of the coins, and only learned to-day that there was such a thing as a mon. I have it written on the tablets of my memory that ten mon make a rin and ten rin make a sen. Five rin, then, is about half a cent, so our dollies are very cheap."

"I recognize your little doll at once; she is O-Hina-San. You see her frequently, though, as you may have observed, no O-Hina-San looks exactly like another."

"Well, at all events she is a very cunning little person. I am surprised to find what cheap and pretty things one can buy for so very little. Don't you think that in the countries where there are coins of such small denominations one can always find cheaper things than at home? When I am in Europe I always think twice before spending five centimes and twenty-five seem a whole great big lot, yet they represent only five cents of our money, and who hesitates to spend a nickel? If we had mills as well as cents I believe it would soon reduce the price of things."

Mr. Montell laughed. "That is a theory to present to our political economists who are trying to get at the cause of the high price of living. Will you write an article on the subject? I might place it for you."

Nan shook her head. "No, indeed. I will present you with the idea and you can work it up for your paper. I could do better with an article on the Doll Festival. Dear me, why didn't I come to Japan before I left college? I love that theory of their gaining souls, and, indeed, some are so lifelike that it is hard to believe they are not alive, and some of them that we saw were over a hundred years old."

"You know the dolls are never thrown away, but are given something like honorable obsequies. The very, very old ones must, in due course of time, become hopeless wrecks. They are not exactly buried, but are given to the god Kojin. A mixed person is Kojin, being neither a Shinto nor a Buddhist deity. A tree is planted near the shrine where he lives, and sometimes the poor old worn-out doll is laid at the foot of the tree, sometimes on the shrine; but if the tree happens to be hollow, inside goes dolly."

"Isn't it all entertaining and surprising?" returned Nan. "I suppose you have seen and have learned many wonderful things."

"More than I hoped to. I am going further up into the country after a while, for in the isolated districts one can get at some very curious customs which have not become modified by modern invasion."

"Just as it is in Spain or any other country which is not tourist-ridden."

"I am wondering if there may not be a temple festival to-night; I will inquire. If there is we must all go, for it is something that every foreigner should see."

"An evening affair, is it?"

"Yes, and for that reason the more interesting, to my mind."

"Do you hear that?" Nan turned to the others. "Mr. Montell is going to pilot us all to an evening street show, a temple festival. Won't it be fine?"

"Is it this evening?" Miss Helen inquired. "If it is I am afraid you will have to count me out, for I have about used up my strength for to-day."

"Even after having had a reinforcement of food?" inquired Nan.

"It won't prevent your going, dear child," said Miss Helen. "You know we agreed that we were not going to stand on the order of our going and coming, and that any one who felt inclined should always be at liberty to drop out of any expedition she felt disinclined to make."

"I think you young people would better undertake the show," put in Mrs. Craig. "Nell and Neal can chaperon you all, and we elders can stay at home and keep one another company. I have seen temple shows galore, so I shall lose nothing."

This was agreed upon, and they all arose from the table, separating into groups, the younger people going to the front to look out upon the passing crowd, while Miss Helen and Mrs. Craig seated themselves for a talk over the plans for the following day.

Mr. Montell went off to make his inquiries. Nan and Eleanor Harding paced up and down the corridors, leaving Mary Lee with Mr. Harding.

"We don't know a thing about Tokyo," said Mary Lee addressing her companion. "What is the name of this street, for instance?"

"It is a part of the great Tokiado Road which is three hundred miles long."

"Gracious!" exclaimed Mary Lee. "Where does it end?"

"It goes from Tokyo to Kioto and passes through many towns. It is really a wonderful trip from one city to the other."

"Have you taken it?"

"Yes, I went with a party of six."

"How did you travel?"

"By jinrikisha."

"Dear me, all that distance?"

"Yes, indeed. The runners can travel six or seven miles an hour, sometimes even as much as eight, and it is really a most agreeable way to go, for one has a chance of seeing the country as he would in no other way, unless he walked."

"I wish we could do it."

"There is no reason why you shouldn't. If you are good walkers you can relieve the monotony by getting out once in a while; we did whenever we felt inclined, and over the mountains it was a distinct advantage."

"I am afraid that wouldn't appeal to Aunt Helen particularly. She is not so ready as she used to be to endure discomfort, and we shall probably have enough of that if we keep on beaten tracks. There are wonders in abundance to be found without doing any terrific stunts, and I reckon we may as well keep to them."

"How long had you planned to stay?"

"Oh, I don't know. We haven't planned at all. We will stay till we think it is time to go. I suppose we shall get homesick for mother and the twinnies in course of time."

"You'd better do as much of your sightseeing as possible before the rainy season begins."

"And when may we expect that it will?"

"It is liable to start in almost any time during the spring, but usually extends through late spring and early summer."

Just here Mr. Montell returned with the news that he was correct in his surmise and that there would be a night festival in another part of the city. "It is over by ten o'clock," he told them, "so we'd better be off if we want to enjoy it."

The girls rushed to their rooms to prepare themselves for the outing while the young men hunted up the jinrikishas which were to take them to the spot.

"We shall be tired enough after an hour in that jostling crowd," Mr. Montell replied when it was proposed by the girls that they should walk one way.

"And besides," put in Mary Lee, "we have been going all day, and we must not get tired out in the very beginning, for we want to save up for all the rest there is to see."

So off they set in the jinrikishas, to arrive at last before the temple which was supposed to occasion the gathering of the crowd which jostled and clattered within a small radius. Just now it was at its greatest. At first the arriving party merely stood still to see the varying scene. A few turned to look at the foreigners, but such were by no means rare in this huge city and they did not arouse as great an interest as did the booths and the flower show.

"Isn't it the weirdest sight?" said Nan to Mr. Harding who had her in charge while Mary Lee and Eleanor were under the care of Mr. Montell.

"It is certainly different from anything we have at home," he returned. "Shall we see the flowers first? I think we may as well move with the crowd, as it will be easier than standing still where one is liable to be shoved and pushed about."

They slowly made their way toward the spot where there was a magnificent display of flowering plants, young trees, and shrubs lining both sides of the streets. The only lights were those of torches, which flickered in the wind, and of gay paper lanterns swung aloft.

"Before you attempt to buy anything," Mr. Harding said, "let me warn you not to pay the price first asked. The system of jewing down is the order of things here and you will be cheated out of your eyes if you don't beat down your man."

"I am afraid I don't know enough of the language to do anything more than pay what they ask, unless you will consent to do the bargaining, that is, if your proficiency in the language will allow."

"I think I can manage that much," he replied cheerfully.

Nan paused before a beautiful dwarf wisteria. "What wouldn't I give to have that at home," she said, "but when one considers that it would have to be toted six thousand miles, it doesn't encourage one to add it to one's impedimenta. I am already aware that I shall have the hugest sort of collection to take home with me, and my sister is continually warning me not to buy everything I see. I think, however, I shall have to get just one little lot of cut flowers to take back to Aunt Helen. Oh, those are cherry blossoms, aren't they? The dear pinky lovely things! I shall have to get a branch of those". They paused before the beautiful collection of plants and flowers whose charms were being made known vociferously by the flower dealer. Foreigners are easy prey of course, so at once the price was put up beyond all reason.

Mr. Harding shook his head. "Too much," he said in the vernacular, and immediately the price dropped perceptibly, but it required more haggling before it came within the limits of reason. But finally Nan bore off her treasure in triumph, holding it carefully above the heads of the crowd. This was rather an easy matter as she was much taller than the general run of those who constituted the throng, and more than once was regarded with amusement. She could not leave the flower show, however, without one more purchase, this time a beautiful little dwarf tree in full flower, for Mrs. Craig, "who," explained Nan, "has a place to keep it."

Mr. Harding assumed the responsibility of carrying this purchase, and, leaving the flowers, they pressed their way toward the booths where myriads of toys were for sale. "Things unlike anything in the heavens above or the earth beneath or the waters under the earth," exclaimed Nan pausing before a booth which attracted her and which was surrounded by children looking with eager longing at the toys. Most of them, to be sure, would be certain not to go home empty-handed, for the parents of these were seldom too poor to spend half a cent to please a child. But there was one little pale-faced creature with the inevitable baby on her back who did seem destitute of a sen or even a rin.

"There is an example of womanhood's burdens," said Mr. Harding, watching the slight figure in its gay kimono. "The little girls are seldom without a baby on their backs, it seems to me; no wonder they look old and bent and wizened before their time, yet they are the most cheerful, laughing creatures in the world, and do not seem to mind being weighted down with a baby any more than American children would with a hat."

"But this seems a particularly small girl and a particularly big and lusty baby," returned Nan, eyeing the little motherly creature. "Do you suppose I might make her a present? I wonder what she would like best of anything on this stall."

"Shall I ask her?"

"Oh, will you?"

Mr. Harding put the question, but beyond the answering smile, there was no reply from the shy little maid, though her interest in the foreigners was immediately awakened.

"There is a lovely O-Hina-San," whispered Nan. "Do you suppose she would like that?"

"I am sure it wouldn't come amiss, and would be worth the guess."

"Then I will get it at the risk of a whole half cent." She laid down her five rin and took up the queer little figure, a flat stick covered with a gay kimono made of paper, and surmounted by a pretty little head. Nan held out the gift smilingly, but the little girl looked at her wonderingly, making no effort to take it. Nan opened the small fingers and clasped them around the doll. The child smiled and looked at Mr. Harding.

"For you," said he in the child's own language.

The smile brightened and down went the child, unmindful of the baby, her head touching earth while her tongue was unloosened to say "Arigato gozaimasu," which meant "honorable thanks."

"Now I must get something for the baby," declared Nan; "that is, if I can get any idea of what these things are for. There is a most fascinating red and blue monkey clasping a stick; that strikes me as appropriate. Will you ask how much it is?"

Mr. Harding put the question. "One-eighth of a cent," he told her, "and this is 'Saru,' the 'Honorable Monkey'; why honorable, I cannot say."

The toy dealer picked up one of these toys, pressed a spring and lo! the monkey ran up the stick. "I must have him. All that for one-eighth of a cent! Surely this is a Paradise for children." She placed the monkey in the baby's little fat hand. He regarded it gravely, but his little sister again prostrated herself to offer her "honorable thanks," and rising, looked at Nan with as adoring an expression as her small wan face could assume.

"And all for less than a cent," said Nan. "I should like to spend the rest of the evening buying toys for these poor little mother-sisters. I could buy thousands for a dollar."

But by now the little girl had moved away, probably to go home with the wonderful tale of the foreign lady, who had given her an experience which was quite as delightful as the presents themselves; and Nan with her escort followed along with the crowd, stopping to examine the toys and have their meaning explained whenever possible.

"Many of these toys have a religious meaning," Mr. Harding told her. "All these queer little images represent some god. Fukusuke looks like a jolly sort of a boy, and Uzume who is the god of laughter, I take it, is a most merry personage. That one with a fish under his arm is Ebisu, the god of markets and of fishermen."

Seeing their interest, the dealer picked up a figure representing a hare sitting on a sort of handle of what Nan took to be a bowl of some sort. "Usagi-no-kometsuki," said the man.

"Aha! this is Hare-in-the-Moon," exclaimed Mr. Harding. "He is cleaning his rice."

"Oh, is that what the pestle is for? I have seen them cleaning rice; they do it by stepping on the handle."

"The next time you see the moon, look up and try to discover Usagi-no-kometsuki. Will you allow me to present him to you?" He bought the little toy and handed it over to Nan who laughingly accepted it, and they went on past the booths showing more toys, or sometimes quaint little ornaments, strange compounds of confections or fans, goldfish and such things, all entertaining enough to one unaccustomed to such a display.

Presently the crowd began to thin out, the torches flickered uncertainly, paper lanterns bobbed off in different directions as individuals took their way home; the clatter of the wooden clogs grew less noticeable. Nan suddenly came to a realizing sense that the show was over "Oh, is it time to go?" she asked. "I wonder where the others are. We have not once seen them. I forgot everything in my interest in the show."

Her companion smiled. "It is easy to see that you are a person who has not worn out her enthusiasms," he said. "We will hunt up a jinrikisha, if you say so, for the flower dealers are packing up their wares, and it is after ten o'clock."

Stowed away in a jinrikisha, they were borne away from the fast dimming scene, and after what seemed a labyrinthine journey through strange streets they stopped at the door of the hotel.

CHAPTER VI

AT KAMAKURA

Nan found her sister waiting for her; the others had gone to their rooms. "Well," exclaimed Mary Lee, "you did take your time. What became of you? We never once caught a glimpse of you after we reached the grounds."

"We went to see the flowers the first thing, and that occupied some time. Where were you?"

"Oh, we started off in exactly the opposite direction, so no wonder we missed one another. What did you think of it, Nan?"

"It was most interesting."

"I thought the crowds were quite as fascinating as the show. Did you ever see so many little children and so many poor little youngsters with babies on their backs? They seemed perfectly content and happy, both babies and their carriers, but it was funny to see the babies' heads bob around with no one to mind in the least. The little girls never appear to be aware that the babies are there; they go skipping or bobbing or playing while the babies are like great big bundles and nothing more."

Nan told her experience with one little girl and baby, Mary Lee listening attentively. "Well, you did make more of your opportunities than we did," she admitted regretfully.

"I think it was partly because I had so good a companion," returned Nan. "I thought at first that I should like Mr. Montell better than Mr. Harding, but I have changed my mind."

"Mr. Montell is much better looking."

"Yes, and an interesting talker, but once you know Mr. Harding you find that there is really more to him. You know what a dear child Nell always was, so sympathetic and genuine; I fancy her brother is much the same."

Mary Lee laughed. "Take care, Nan. You are such an enthusiastic old dear that you will be investing the young man with all sorts of beautiful characteristics he doesn't possess, once you get your vivid imagination into real good working order."

Nan smiled. "Oh, I am perfectly sound and whole so far, though one never can tell where lightning will strike. You may fall a victim yourself."

Mary Lee looked grave and then she said in a low tone, "You know it would be impossible, Nan. You must leave me out of all such conjectures. There was never any one but Phil and there never will be."

Nan gave her sister a compassionate hug, and realized that Mary Lee's devotion to the young cousin who had died was not a mere matter of months, but that it was a thing of years if not of a lifetime. She changed the subject. "Did you see Aunt Helen when you all came in? Did she say what we were to do to-morrow?"

"Both she and Mrs. Craig were up," Mary Lee told her, "and they have arranged for a trip to Kamakura, they told me."

"Where that huge statue of Buddha is, the one that is called the Dai Butsu? I am glad we are going there. How many are going? All of us?"

"Yes, and Mr. Montell; he has promised to take his camera, so we can have some pictures to send home."

Nan was thoughtful for a moment. "I don't believe Mr. Harding can go, for he said something about being on duty to-morrow morning. We shall have to leave him behind."

"And you will be sorry?"

"I certainly shall. One man doesn't go around when there are three girls."

Mary Lee laughed, and the two settled themselves for the night.

The party that started for Kamakura the next morning did not consist however of five women and one man, for Colonel Craig joined them and proved to be a most acceptable addition, a fine soldierly, courteous man who was a mine of information. The journey, to what was once a city of a million souls, was made by train, but was continued by jinrikisha to the great image which was the special object to be visited.

"Isn't it a queer little train?" said Eleanor as she seated herself.

"It reminds me of those in Italy," returned Nan; "they always seemed such harmless well-meaning little things that wouldn't hurt you for the world. Do see that picturesque little village, Eleanor. Isn't it just like the pictures with the straw-thatched houses? Those are rice-fields, of course, there where the people are wading. Such a horrid sloppy way of getting a crop. I should think they would hate it, but I suppose the 'honorable rice' is too precious a product for them to consider the manner of its growing or harvesting; the main thing is to get it any old way."

"Aren't those wonderful groves of trees?" returned Eleanor, observing on her part. "There are mountains, Nan, beautiful purple mountains, but it is rather sombre scenery, don't you think?"

Here Mr. Montell came over to speak to them. "You mustn't expect to see a glorious city," he told them, "for it has suffered from terrible fires and from a great tidal wave which destroyed most of the many temples. There are still some left, nevertheless, and these we shall see."

In spite of this warning it was a surprise to the girls to behold a queer little village wandering between hills and showing a canal worming its way through it. The houses were very old, straw-thatched and gray, with strange grasses, and even flowers, growing on their ancient roofs.

Nan caught her breath. "How desolate!" she gasped. "Could one ever imagine this was once a busy, restless city with magnificent buildings, temples and wonders of all kinds?"

"Some of the wonders still remain, as you will see," said Colonel Craig as he helped her into a jinrikisha. "When you have seen the Dai Butsu you will acknowledge that even a Japanese fishing village retains some of its ancient glory."

They bobbed along behind the huge spreading hats of the runners and presently entered a long avenue of trees to go through a temple gateway and a long courtyard.

Suddenly the runners stopped, and the visitors, looking up, saw the huge statue before them. One after another alighted from the jinrikishas and gathered around Mr. Montell and Colonel Craig.

"Isn't he enormous?" cried Mary Lee looking up at the colossal figure seated in a lotus flower.

"He is nearly fifty feet high," said the colonel.

"And he isn't in a temple, but just in plain out-of-doors," remarked Eleanor.

"There was a temple once," her uncle told her. "You can see some of the bases of its sixty-three pillars if you look for them. The great tidal wave destroyed it, and the surrounding buildings, away back in the fifteenth century. So far as we know the statue was cast about 1252. It is made of bronze. The eyes are four feet long and the distance across the lap from one knee to the other is thirty-five feet, so now you can get some idea of his bigness."

They all stood in silence looking up at the renowned figure with a real reverence. Nan slipped her hand into her Aunt Helen's. "I love his gentle smile," she whispered. "How placid he looks after all the great convulsions of nature, the ravages of time and all the desolating things that have happened around him."

Her aunt responded with a little pressure of the hand. "He is a lesson, dear, to all of us. Did the colonel read you the inscription at the gateway? I have written it down." She read from her note-book: "O stranger, whosoever thou art, and whatsoever be thy creed, when thou enterest this sanctuary remember that thou treadest upon ground hallowed by the worship of ages. This is the temple of Buddha and the gate of the Eternal, and should therefore be entered with reverence."

"Could any one feel anything else but reverence?" returned Nan. "And not only reverence but a real awe and certainly a great admiration."

"Shall we go inside?" asked Mr. Montell who had been busy with his camera and who now came up. "You know there is a small opening in the side of the big lotus-blossom on which Buddha is sitting. There is a shrine to Kwannon inside and if you care to climb up a ladder you can go as far as the shoulders and have a peep at the grounds."

Nan shook her head. "No, let those who are not impressed as I am descend to such things; I don't want to remember that I climbed to his shoulders; I only want to remember his kind smile and his half-shut eyes. It is the most wonderful thing I have seen in Japan except Fujiyama."

"Harding ought to be here," laughed Mr. Montell. "He feels just as you do about the Dai Butsu."

Allowing the others to penetrate to the interior of the statue, Nan seated herself at some distance and gave herself up to a contemplation of Buddha. She was rather glad to be alone for she was an impressionable young person and a dreamer of dreams. For some time she sat lost in her thoughts, and carried back, back how many centuries. All sorts of strange fancies possessed her, and at last she could scarce have told where she was.