The Four Corners in Japan

by Amy Ella Blanchard

  CHAPTER XIV

  JEAN VISITS

  Nan hung the tiny cage with its one occupant outside her room on theverandah and the next morning discovered that the small maker of lighthad escaped through the open door. Later in the day, joy itself tookwings with the return of Neal Harding to his post. He had declaredthat he would see them all again, but as he would remain in Tokyo, towhich place they did not expect to go again, it seemed to Nan that theend of her summer had come. He had not asked her to write, and shetold herself that this dream was ended, ended with the flitting of theghostly visitors from another world. "It was all a phantom anyhow," shesighed as she took down the wee cage and laid it among her treasures.She wondered if Jack would start up a correspondence. Jack did not liketo write letters, to be sure, but she was one who made a means serveher ends and if she really did like Mr. Harding above any other man shehad met, she would be sure to find a way of keeping him in sight.

  A few days later Nan happened to come upon her mother and aunt deep ina discussion of further plans. "You're just the girl we want to see,"said Mrs. Corner. "Come, sit down here and talk it all over with us. Wefeel that we should be thinking of starting forth again, not becausewe are tired of this lovely spot, but because there is so much more tosee, and one can scarcely expect to come to Japan more than once in alifetime. You and Mary Lee have made the Craigs a long visit and it istime that should be ended. Now what do you think we should make ournext point?"

  Nan gave the question due consideration. "We must certainly seeKyoto," she said at last. "It is such a very old city and was thecapital before Tokyo became so. I have been told that it is the mostinteresting city in Japan."

  Mrs. Corner looked at Miss Helen. "Now that is quite as it should be.Jean has had an invitation to visit there."

  "She has? Who has asked her?"

  Mrs. Corner raised her voice slightly to say, "Jean, dear, come in hereand bring the letter you had this morning."

  Jean, who could hear perfectly well through the thin paper partitionsof the room, appeared presently with the letter in her hand. It waswritten on a very long sheet of paper, ornamented delicately upon itssurface with shadowy designs. It was in a long narrow envelope, and wasfolded over and over many times in order to make it fit.

  "It is from Ko-yeda Sannomiya," said Jean. "You remember her, Nan? Shewas the little Japanese girl at Rayner Hall. We took her to Cloverdaleonce and tried to be nice to her. She is a funny little thing, and someof the girls fought shy of her, but I always liked her, she was sosweet and gentle."

  "And has she come back home?"

  "Yes, and lives in Kyoto. She heard in some roundabout way that we wereover here and had the sense to write to Bettersley and ask to have theletter forwarded. It has been a long time on the way, of course, butthe invitation stands for any time I may accept it."

  "I don't see why she didn't ask me, too," said Jack who had come in.

  "I know," said Mary Lee; "you are too big, and you would scare herfamily; besides you would fill up the house and there wouldn't be roomfor any one else."

  "Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed Jack, "I am no taller than Nan."

  "Well, they didn't ask her."

  "That is all nonsense," replied Jack. "I suppose the real reason isthat Jean flocked with her more than I did, and once I laughed at herfor some funny mistake she made. I suppose I shouldn't have done it forit wasn't very polite, but the laugh came out before I thought."

  "Are you going, Jean?" Nan asked.

  "I think so. It is quite a compliment, I reckon, and I ought to takeadvantage of it, though it scares me rather to go in among suchexceedingly foreign people. I shall only stay a day or so, however, andI don't reckon anything very terrible can happen in that time."

  "So then it is settled, is it, that we go on to Kyoto?" said Nan.

  "It will be pretty warm, I suppose, after these delightful mountains,"remarked Miss Helen regretfully, "but if we come to Japan in summer wemust take the consequences. At all events we can be thankful that therainy season is over."

  "I wonder what Ko-yeda means," said Nan musingly, as she handed backthe letter to Jean.

  "It means a slender twig," Jean informed her. "Ko-yeda told me so longago."

  "It is very pretty, especially for a young girl," Nan decided.

  In spite of Eleanor's protests and charges of desertion, and of Mrs.Craig's persuasions, the day was set for their departure. It came alltoo soon. The evening before, Nan made a last visit to the templesand to the little shrine where she had set free her fireflies. Thediscovery that Jack had received a letter from Mr. Harding that verymorning did not give her a very serene state of mind, but in spite ofthat she felt a melancholy satisfaction in visiting the places whereshe had been so happy. The booths had departed from the streets andthe crowd had dwindled to the usual number, but in the garden, whichheld many a dear memory, the water still lapped the slim reeds and thenightingale still repeated its song, not a long sustained, nor so fulla strain as she had heard in Italy, but nevertheless a lovelier one toher because of association. Here they two had sat and listened on morethan one evening when the air was soft and balmy and when the scent oflilies came to them. "Nevermore, nevermore," was the only refrain whichNan's heart could hear.

  Eleanor found her in the little summer-house where they all had spentso many gay and happy hours.

  "I could weep when I think of your leaving me, Nan," she said. "I usedto be awfully fond of you there at Bettersley but I have enlarged theborders of the place you occupied in my heart and now you take up sucha lot of room that I don't see how I can let you go."

  "Better come along," said Nan lightly.

  "Do you really mean it?"

  It had not occurred to Nan before, but, as she turned the plan over inher mind, she was pleased with it. "Why not?" she said.

  "I'd simply love to. Of course I must see all I can of Japan, and AuntNora wouldn't leave the colonel, neither would he leave her, if hecould, which he can't. As for Neal he is not to be depended upon exceptupon occasions. I don't in the least see why I shouldn't go with you,for a time anyhow. I know Aunt Nora will say I must. Are you really inearnest, Nan, and do you think your mother and aunt would consent tolet me hang on to your skirts?"

  "I am sure they would be delighted. You all have been mighty nice tous, Nell Harding, and even if we didn't like you so powerful much as wedo we'd say, 'Come along.'"

  "Don't talk of our having been nice. Why, my dear, you all have beenthe whole show this summer. You have simply lifted us all out of stupidmonotony into delirious excitement."

  An hour later it was all settled that Eleanor should be one of theparty and after a whirl of packing on her part, she started off forKyoto with the Corners the very next day.

  After all it was found that Kyoto would be more easily reached by wayof Tokyo than by any other route and in the latter city was made thestay of a night. It brought Mr. Harding post haste to see them all,but, as luck would have it, Nan was laid up with a headache and couldnot appear. She insisted upon going on the next morning, and so Tokyobrought her no added memories. At the quiet European hotel in Kyoto,Jean met her late schoolfellow and was borne off without delay.

  She made a little wry face over her shoulder as she said good-byeto her sisters, but Jack was very envious of her opportunity andbemoaned her luck in not having won Ko-yeda's regard. "It doesn't makeit any better to tell me it is my own fault," she said to Mary Lee,who reminded her of the fact. "Never mind, I will have some sort ofadventure before I leave this town; you see if I don't."

  However reluctantly Jean started forth, nothing could have exceededthe gracious welcome she received from the family of Ko-yeda. Mrs.Sannomiya bowed to the floor, likewise did Grandmother Sannomiya, aswell as every one else in the establishment. Into a fresh, sweet roomcovered with mats of rice straw she was ushered, a silken cushionwas placed for her and she was at once served with "honorable tea,"sweetmeats and cakes. This ceremony over, she was taken to anothermatted room where, as she told h
er sisters afterward, she hung upher clothes on the floor and listened to what they were saying inthe next room. After this Ko-yeda led her to the front of the housewhich did not face the street, but the garden, and a charming one itwas. Not large, but displaying a tiny grotto, a miniature pond wheregoldfishes and little turtles lived, and where, at this season, lovelylotus blooms floated. Along the stone paths potted plants were set andin one spot Ko-yeda pointed out with pride a cherry tree which wasthe garden's glory in spring. It was not a very big place but it wasadmired and beloved by the whole family from the opening of the firstbudlet to the falling of the scarlet leaves from a baby maple tree. Theverandah of the house overlooked the garden rather than the street.

  Ko-yeda's pleasure in her company was boundless. She spoke English welland chattered away asking innumerable questions of this and that oneand inquiring all about what Jean had seen in Japan. "You are traveledmore than I," she said. "Never to Nikko have I been. I go some of theday. You see I do not mean be as other Japanese girl. I am studentof America and I very free in my thinking of what I mean do. Mygrandmother frown and say I naughty little girl, for that I wish no belike the honorable ancestor. She Christian, too, but she cannot forgetthe ancestor. For myself, I like better remember my present ones."

  "Do you think you will marry, Ko-yeda?" asked Jean.

  "I cannot say. I would not like to think. It is not respectable for mehere in Japan to do so. In your country it is opposite. You marry someof the day?"

  "Oh, dear me, I don't know. You may not believe it, Ko-yeda, and Iwould not like to confess it to my sisters even, but I have never yetbeen in love, though I am eighteen."

  Ko-yeda laughed merrily. "You should be as I am. Some day when comea good Christian somebodies to my father and mother and say I wishKo-yeda for my son, then perhaps I think, but I shall wait till thatday. I will not marry any but my own countryman, I suppose, and I donot wish other, but I wish Christian."

  "Of course you do. Will you have to wait on your mother-in-law, then?"

  "Oh, yes. My mother do the same. I will do unless perhaps is adopted ayoung mans to my family. I think will be this for we have no son. Thenis my mother my mother-in-law." She laughed merrily.

  "Oh, I hope it will turn out that way," said Jean who had her ownopinions of Japanese mothers-in-law, and who would have been sorry tosee her little friend occupy the position that some young wives must.

  Ko-yeda was a dainty, pretty little person, with small oval face, verydark brown, not black, hair, a clear skin over which sometimes crepta soft rosy tint, soft dark eyes, a small mouth and delicate littlehands. Her dress was of pale blue crape with a handsome _obi_, or sashconfining the kimono. The sash was subtly brilliant but not gaudy.Altogether Jean thought her a charming figure, much more so in hernative costume than she had been at school in European dress. So muchcould not be said of the grandmother who looked shrunken and yellow,whose teeth were blackened and who wore a sombre robe of gray. "Iwonder if Ko-yeda will look like that some day," was Jean's thought asshe was escorted in to take dinner.

  This was served to her upon a little lacquered table about a foot highwhile she ate seated on a flat cushion laid upon the matted floor.

  There was cold soup and stewed fish and rice into which raw eggs werebroken. There was raw fish, too, served with soy, and there waschicken and some queer sort of meat which Jean did not recognize.Indeed the sweetish sauces served with nearly everything rendered mostof the dishes unpalatable to her, but she could eat the rice and thechicken and managed to taste the other dishes. In consideration ofher preferences, there was real bread, and Ko-yeda had prepared withher own hands a pudding which she presented anxiously. Of course Jeanpraised it and really but for this quite substantial dish, might havefared rather badly. There was tea, of course, and various sweetmeats,not very attractive to a foreigner.

  "If you show me I make some of the American somethings for you," saidKo-yeda.

  "Where is your kitchen?" asked Jean.

  Ko-yeda laughed. "We have not like you, for we use the _hibachi_ much.I show you our cook place and the go-down and all that."

  So they went on a voyage of exploration. The go-down or _kura_ Jean sawto be a sort of storehouse where many things were placed for safetyagainst fire, only too frequent in the cities of Japan. The _kura_ wasbuilt of bamboo and wood and was covered two feet thick with clay sothat it was quite fire-proof. The little garden which Jean first sawled into another and she was surprised to see how many rooms were inthe rambling house, or at least how many there could be when screenswere drawn. There were numerous little maids at work here and thereand, as Ko-yeda led her guest this way and that, she caught glimpsesof cool, quiet, dimly-lighted places where different members of thefamily were squatting on the floor,--Ko-yeda's mother busy with somedelicate embroidery, her grandmother arranging a vase of flowers, herfather bending over a table with a brush and a long sheet of paperupon which he made deft marks with great rapidity. He was writing aletter, Ko-yeda told her. Upon entering the house from the garden, theytook off their shoes and Ko-yeda provided Jean with a pair of _tabi_,a queer kind of sock, foot-mittens Jean called them, for instead of aplace for the thumb was one for the big toe. As they went through thecorridors and peeped into one after another of the rooms, Jean saw howvery simple a Japanese home could be. Even the best room, the guestroom as it was called, had in it only a number of flat silk-coveredcushions to sit or kneel on, a couple of small chests of drawers, lampswith pretty shades, some folding screens, a shining mirror of steel,and a few of the small lacquered tables. In several of the rooms werealcoves which Ko-yeda called _tokonoma_ and _chigai-dana_.

  "In the day of old," said Ko-yeda, "the great gentlemans of the housewould use to sit before these. We place here our decoration for theday, in the one, our _kakemono_ and the flowers; in the other asomething pretty which we like, a vase, a carvings, what you will. Ishow you. To-day because of your coming I am wish of our best. I thinkyou like it maybe." She took her into the room where a panel picturehung; it showed a pair of birds exquisitely painted upon white satin,the branch upon which they sat being perfect in detail and the birds'feathers wonderfully wrought. "I remember you teach me 'Birds of afeathers flock together,'" said Ko-yeda.

  Jean laughed. She had forgotten, but how well Ko-yeda had remembered alittle joke of theirs. In front of the _kakemono_ was a slender vasein which was a single spray of flowers. In the other alcove stood abeautiful piece of carved ivory. This room was shaded from the outsideglare of the sun by sliding windows covered with paper through whichthe light fell softly. Beyond were smaller apartments and above stairswere still more, bath-rooms among them. The place seemed very cool andspacious and peaceful. Every one was kindness itself and all tried inevery way to make Ko-yeda's guest feel at home.

  The next meal was a more elaborate one. There were several kinds ofsoup, eels, lobster, more fish, vegetables and then rice served from alarge lacquered box. There were odd sweets and some very delicate anddelicious cakes. The sweetmeats were in various forms, lotus flowers,and little brown twigs, green leaves and the like, among them. It wasall very odd and pleasant. Jean was glad that she and her sisters hadexperimented with chop-sticks as she felt herself less awkward withthem. They were really not so very difficult to manage and they allpraised her use of them. Of course the honorable tea had to form apart of the meal, and after this was taken and the obsequious servantshad removed the dishes, the girls went out into the garden where Mr.Sannomiya was walking around, a paper umbrella over his head and alarge fan in his hand. "My father, he dress European and my mother too,when they go out," Ko-yeda explained, "but at home we all feel morecomfort in the native dress."

  "I think it is much prettier than ours," said Jean. "I wish you wouldnot give it up."

  "But my father so ashamed to have Western man say he what you call arear number."

  Jean smiled. "A back number, you mean?"

  "Oh, yes, a back number. I thank you. I am forgetting my English. Hesay we must no
t appear like the old Japan which shut the door uponall progress. If we wish be like the rest of world we must do as theother nations and so we wear the dress so to show that we are notbehind in things."

  As the girls came up Mr. Sannomiya bowed very low and said that he washonored that Jean should come to his poor mean house to see his uglyand uninteresting daughter. Jean was a little startled at the remark astranslated by Ko-yeda, but her friend laughed and said, "It is but theway we speak; you must not mind; I know you are not accustomed."

  "Do please say something nice to him in your own way," returned Jean."Tell him how pleased I am to come and how flattered I feel that youhave invited me."

  This was quite sufficient material for Ko-yeda to make into a verygracious speech, and then with much ceremony each took a different patharound the garden.

  Later on came callers--Ko-yeda's elder sister and her husband who bowedlow and bumped their heads against the floor upon being presented. Jeantried to respond in like manner, but felt her bow was very awkward.Mrs. Sanzo, as well as her husband, was in regulation European costume,but Jean thought Ko-yeda much more charming in her delicate pink crapekimono and _obi_ tied in an immense bow at the back. The funny littlehunchy manner of walking which the little Japanese woman displayedwas not suited to French gowns and hats, Jean thought. However, mostgracious and sweet was Mrs. Sanzo, with a lovely voice and the mostcharming smile. She could speak a little English and made her sisterpromise to bring Jean to see her. During the hour that followed thearrival of these visitors others came and Jean had fairly to pinchherself to discover if she were not dreaming as she sat curled up ona little cushion listening to the unfamiliar language in such a veryunfamiliar kind of house. Not any more familiar was the appearance ofthe little maids who came in from time to time to bring refreshments,and who knelt whenever they slid open the _fusuma_, or screen, betweenthe rooms and who presented their trays of sweetmeats, or the pipes andtobacco for the gentlemen, still kneeling.

  But at last bedtime came. Mrs. Sannomiya clapped her hands and themaids again appeared to slide the _fusuma_ while Ko-yeda led the waythrough the corridors to an upper room where piles of comfortables,or _futons_ as they were called, had been laid on the floor. A littlepillow had been provided for Jean in place of the hard wooden bolsterusually considered proper for a lady. This because her hair would bedisarranged by the use of anything different.

  It was a warm night and the _shoji_ and _amado_ were both open towardthe garden, though down-stairs Jean heard them putting up the woodenshutters called amado, and knew the house was thus being closed forthe night. She could hear the murmur of talk around her, and the plashof water from the fountain in the garden. There was a queer scent ofincense in the air and this mingled with the odors of the garden andthe smoke of her lamp made her realize that this was indeed a foreignland. She lay under her canopy of mosquito net, a very necessaryprotection, and wished that Jack were there and that she could flyacross the great city to where her mother and sisters were, that shemight kiss them all good-night. "Well, I am glad I am not furtheraway," she thought. "Suppose they were across the ocean. I might havereason for feeling homesick."

  The next day came a round of entertainments. A visit to Mrs. Sanzowhere there was a fat, laughing, slant-eyed, cunning baby, exactly likedolls Jean remembered having had as a child. There was a little glimpseof the city, and a call at one of the mission schools where it seemedpleasant to find American women teachers and gentle little girl pupils.Then there was a drive to the country to see the silk spinners.

  "This is the time when the cocoons are ready," Ko-yeda said. "You willlike to see?"

  Indeed Jean would and so they drove on to where some lowly littlecottages made a village. The doors, even the fronts of the houses,were all open, and inside Jean could see fluffy piles of pale yellowor white stuff before which sat withered, brown-faced old men orwomen with rude little hand-reels upon which they wound the delicatethread. More than once the girls alighted to watch the process, Ko-yedaspeaking and evidently telling about Jean, for they eyed her with eagerinterest and one gave her a soft puffy ball of the silk and would takeno return.

  There was more than one stop, for no excursion is complete without acup of tea, and then back to the city to another meal at a foot-hightable, more ceremonious bows and visits, another night upon the_futons_ with the insects shrilling outside in the garden to theaccompaniment of water trickling over the stones, and the mosquitoesbuzzing outside the net, then Jean was ready for her own people and herown way of living. She would see Ko-yeda? Oh, yes, many times beforeshe left Kyoto, and they would have many more pleasant talks.

  She went away laden with presents, with all the servants prostratingthemselves at each side the door, and with an impression of havinglived for two days in an Arabian Night story.

  GLAD SHE HAD EXPERIMENTED WITH CHOP-STICKS]

  CHAPTER XVA MOCK JAPANESE]