CHAPTER XV
A MOCK JAPANESE
"Sit right down and tell us all about it," said Mary Lee as Jean appeared before the family after her visit. "Did you have a good time?"
Jean took off her gloves and folded them neatly. "I had a most interesting time," she said. "I never knew kinder, more hospitable people, and when I came away they loaded me with gifts till I was so embarrassed I didn't know what to do. Of course I gave all the servants something, but I have got to do something for Ko-yeda after all this."
"Where are your presents?" asked Jack. "Fetch them along; we want to see what they are like."
"You know it is a custom to give presents to a departing guest," said Nan. "They always do it, and it is in accordance with the station and wealth of the entertainer. I know it is very overwhelming sometimes but it has to be endured."
"I'll get the things presently," said Jean. "Tell me what you all have been doing since I left you."
"We'll do that when you have told your tale, which will be much more interesting. How many are in the family and did you see them all, and what were they like?" Nan asked the questions.
Jean began to count off the answers on her fingers. "In the family there are Mr. and Mrs. Sannomiya, Grandmother Sannomiya and Ko-yeda. There was a son but he died two years ago and that is why Ko-yeda was called home. There is a married sister, Mrs. Sanzo; she is very nice and has a darling baby. I went to her house. She is very tiny and looked like a little doll in her dress quite like ours. Her husband is tiny, too, and dresses like any of our men. The others adopt our costume when they are out, but at home they go back to kimonos and all that. It was very funny to see Mr. Sannomiya in the garden with a big fan and an umbrella. The old grandmother has blackened teeth and is the most important person in the house. Mrs. Sannomiya waits on her hand and foot, and they all hang on her words as if she were an oracle. She is rather a nice old person but I can imagine that a daughter-in-law might have a very unpleasant time of it in some households."
"Poor Ko-yeda," said Jack, "I hope she won't have any hard time."
"I don't believe she will, for she told me that if she married it is probable that her husband would be adopted into the family to take the place of her brother who died. In that case, he will take her name and be considered a true son. His own people won't be anything at all to him."
"There are cases not unlike that in our own country," said Eleanor. "I have known men who were completely weaned from their own families as soon as they were married. I think a woman is a horrid selfish pig to completely absorb a man that way. If any one steals Neal from me and makes him indifferent to his people, all because she is such a jealous pig she wants him all to herself, I shall have my opinion of her."
They all laughed at Eleanor's vehemence, but only Mary Lee noticed Nan's heightened color. Mary Lee was taking notes these days.
"What did you have to eat?" asked Jack.
"Oh, all sorts of queer stuff, some of it perfectly impossible," Jean told her; "but some of it was very good, the cakes especially. Ko-yeda tried to have some English food. We actually did have bread, and the fish was served me without that awful sweet sauce. I didn't starve." She went on with her account, Jack taking notes rapidly while her twin talked.
"What on earth are you doing?" queried Mary Lee as Jack scribbled away.
"Oh, I am just getting it all down so I can use the material in the future. Jean may forget some of it. It is much easier to get hold of it now when I have nothing else to do; it may save me lots of time later on. I can make a daily or a weekly or some kind of theme of it."
Jean told about her drive to the little village where she had seen the silk-spinning, of her callers, of the routine in the house and much that the others found interesting. "They do things in the most contrary fashion," she dilated upon her subject. "They push the eye of the needle on to the thread; their keys always turn in the opposite direction from ours, and the other day I was watching Mr. Sannomiya writing a letter. Will you believe it? He did it all backwards."
"Go on and get your things," urged Nan. "We are crazy to see them."
Jean retired and presently came back with her treasures. "This," she said, unrolling something from its wrapping of first soft paper and then an under covering of fine silk, "is what Mr. Sannomiya gave me." She displayed a beautiful silken panel charmingly painted. "It is a kakemono, you know. After seeing those lovely cool rooms ours do seem overcrowded. When I get home I think I shall fit up a room in the wing and that shall be a Japanese room."
"Oh, let us do it," cried Jack. "We can do just as the Japanese do and can have different decorations for different days. We can have tea there sometimes and wear our costumes, just as you were planning, Nan."
"I think that will be a lovely idea," agreed Mrs. Corner; "then you will all have a chance to display your treasures."
Jean carefully put away her kakemono and took from a box, sweetly smelling and prettily decorated, a beautiful Satsuma vase. "This is from Grandmother Sannomiya," she announced.
"Such a beauty," said one and another as it was passed around.
"And this," Jean next produced a silken scarf of wonderful tint and beautifully embroidered, "is from Mrs. Sannomiya."
"How perfectly gorgeous," cried Jack. "Oh, Jean, I am green with envy."
Jean was very complacent at having aroused all this admiration of her gifts. "I am sure you will be more so when I show you what Ko-yeda herself has given me," she said as she drew forth a small bag or pouch to which was fastened an exquisite carving of ivory. "It is a real netsuké," said Jean with pride. "I learned something about a netsuké from Ko-yeda," she went on. "It is really just the thing that keeps the pouch from slipping through the sash. It used to be used on all sorts of things, pipes, tobacco pouches, medicine cases and, Mr. Sannomiya says, originally on shrine cases. This one is quite old, but the very oldest are made of wood instead of ivory. There used to be very celebrated carvers of netsukés who signed them and their work is very valuable. Mine isn't signed but I think it is a love."
The gift was passed from hand to hand and was pronounced a prize worth having. Then Jean carefully replaced it in its pretty box and carried off her presents. She was a most particular little person and very exact about all her belongings. Not so striking as merry Jack she, nevertheless, had her own good points, a neat figure, small hands and feet, a gentle expression and good features. Her eyes had not the depth and expression of Nan's nor the changefulness and sparkle of Jack's but they were soft and clear.
"And what have you been doing?" asked Jean when her own affairs had been discussed sufficiently.
"Seeing the town," Nan told her.
"What have you seen?"
"The great Yasaka tower, for one thing, the Mikado's palace for another. We haven't been to the temples yet, at least not to the principal one," Jack told her.
"I believe it is said that there are three thousand temples in Kyoto," remarked Nan.
"We couldn't possibly see them all," returned Jean.
"Oh, yes, we have seen them all," declared Jack with a twinkle in her eye.
"What perfect nonsense," said Jean disgustedly. "How could you in two days?"
"We could and we did, from the top of the Yasaka tower. They must have been all there before us even if we couldn't distinguish one from another."
"Now, isn't that just like you, Jack?" retorted Jean. "What is the tower for? It was pointed out to me yesterday, but there were so many other things to see I didn't learn anything about it."
"I think it was built by an emperor that his children might view the whole city. In the former days royalty was so sacred that no one was allowed to look upon the emperor and empress. When they gave audiences, they were concealed by a purple curtain down to the knees, but the present ruler has done away with all that; he and his wife appear among their people quite as any European monarch would do," Miss Helen told them.
"And how their people adore them," said Jean. "I heard no end of tales of their goodness. The empress is so very charitable and is so kind to the sick and the poor; so is the emperor for that matter. Ko-yeda could not say enough about them."
While they were talking Jack had slipped away. She could not get over the fact that Jean had been having adventures in which she had no part. "Very well," she told herself, "I will make an adventure for myself." In this city of beautiful brocades and embroideries the girls had found the shops most fascinating, and had made several purchases. Jack had provided herself with an entire Japanese costume, a pretty kimono, a gorgeous obi, a pair of geta or clogs, and all the other paraphernalia. She had carefully studied the arrangement of hair and since her own was no lighter than Ko-yeda's she could arrange it to look quite like that of a Japanese girl. While the others were still busy talking, she donned her costume, arranged her hair as nearly as possible like Ko-yeda's, stuck many pins and ornaments in it, slipped on the getas and sallied forth with fan and umbrella. Both she and Jean had often before this practiced walking on the queer little shoes and could shuffle along fairly well, though when Jack was actually on the street, she felt awkward and a trifle uneasy.
But she was determined to carry out her adventure and went on trying her best to toddle along in imitation of the women around her.
Passers-by looked up at her curiously, for she was so much taller than the usual run of persons on the street that she could not but attract attention. She had made herself up very well, but her eyes and her height gave indubitable evidence of her being a foreigner, yet no one did more than smile as she went along. The scene was a gay one, jinrikishas hastening hither and thither, street criers, venders of all sorts of wares, workmen, strollers, crowded the way. Shops displayed many kinds of rich wares, little wooden houses with gray roofs were surprisingly many. Jack, entertained at first, at last thought it time to return. She looked about her. It was all very unfamiliar, but she decided she knew the way. All at once she found herself in a narrow labyrinthine street and surrounded by a curious crowd of little urchins who began to jeer, to point at her, to jabber uncomprehended words. Finally one, bolder than the rest, came up and tweaked her sleeve. This was the signal for further disagreeable attentions. One jerked away her fan; another poked a hole through her umbrella. She tried to take it as a joke and to smile upon their naughtiness, but they were excited with the chase and meant to run their prey to cover. So unpleasant did they finally become that poor Jack looked this way and that for a way of escape. She had long ago exhausted her vocabulary of Japanese speech and had not a word left to suit the occasion. There seemed no one in sight but the boys and she fervently wished they were not there.
But presently, to her great relief, she saw some one approaching, and, as good luck would have it, the figure was that of a woman in plain garb but it was the familiar dress of her own country. At sight of this individual, the boys scattered. Jack stood still and waited. She was sure if she spoke her own tongue she would be understood.
The newcomer soon was at her side. "Will you please tell me where I can get a jinrikisha?" asked Jack.
The person so accosted started. "Why – " she looked Jack over, surprise giving way to amused interest. "Why, my child, what in the world are you doing over in this part of the city dressed like that, when you don't know the language?" she asked.
Jack colored up. "I was out for a walk," she said. "I didn't realize how tall I was and that I would attract attention. I thought I could pass along and no one would notice very particularly, for I am sure I have my things on quite properly and I can walk on the getas, though not so very fast."
The lady listened with still an amused expression. "Come along with me," she said. "I can soon set you all right. I am a teacher in a mission school in this part of the city. I am going there now."
"Oh, I should love to see a mission school," declared Jack, gladly accepting the invitation. The two walked along together both asking many questions and becoming on good terms by the time they had reached the door of the school. As they went in, an older person came forward, but stopped in surprise as she saw the tall girl in Japanese dress.
The circle of little girls sitting on the matted floor looked up also, their serious faces broadening into smiles as they beheld Jack. "This is Miss Corner, Mrs. Lang," said Jack's companion. "She has lost her way in this big city and needs to be sent home." Then she gave an account of Jack's escapade and the elder teacher laughed merrily.
"I suppose I ought to have known better," said Jack ruefully. "It is a downfall to my pride. I thought I looked so lovely and Japanesy. I even put little dabs of red on my cheeks and my lower lip, you see."
"But that didn't lessen your inches nor slant your eyes in the right direction," Mrs. Lang said. "Of course you slipped out without your mother's seeing you."
"Yes, of course," returned Jack rather meekly. "If it hadn't been for those horrid little boys I should have had no trouble. Of course people laughed and one or two men said something to me but I just went on and didn't answer."
Mrs. Lang shook her head. "Don't do it again. It wouldn't be exactly safe for you to go alone into the native part of the city in your accustomed dress and as a mock Japanese you might expect some trouble."
"But I thought they were always so gentle and polite here that I would be quite safe."
"There are circumstances when it doesn't do to trust too much to theories," Mrs. Lang replied.
"Miss Corner would like very much to hear the children sing," said Miss Gresham, Jack's first acquaintance.
Mrs. Lang turned to the little group and said something, then she started a song. Jack listened attentively and with perfect gravity, but the children, whose voices were so sweet in speech, sang execrably, with very little idea of tune, and so raucously as to make one wonder how they could do it. "Nan would curl up and die if she were to hear them," she said to herself.
The children then went through several exercises for her benefit and at last subsided in order with solemn set little faces.
"I thought them so expressionless and unresponsive when I first came," said Miss Gresham as she conducted Jack to another room, "but you have no idea how receptive they are and how attentive. We are doing good work here and I wish you would bring all your party to see us and some of the other classes which are more advanced."
Jack promised and was told the name of the street, and how to reach Miss Gresham herself and then she took her leave with a feeling of thankfulness that she had been so lucky as to come across one of her own people. "It was truly a missionary act," she said with a smile as she bade Mrs. Lang good-bye. "I begin to realize what a debt of gratitude I owe you."
"It was only what the veriest stranger might do in any place," protested Miss Gresham, though Jack felt it was more.
"I might have been any kind of a horrid person," she said, "and you were just as nice to me as could be."
"My dear," said Miss Gresham, "I knew as soon as I looked at you that you were not a horrid person."
"With all this powder and rouge on my face?"
"I could see under that," responded Miss Gresham with a smile.
Miss Gresham insisted upon going all the way to the hotel with her in a jinrikisha which carried them swiftly through the streets to the place in no time.
"I wish you would come in and see them all," urged Jack.
"Not to-day; perhaps another time, but you will be sure to come to see us."
Jack was earnest in her promise to do this and went on feeling rather shamefaced. It had been easy to slip out but the coming back was quite a different matter. She could not but be observed, she reflected, and it might not be as pleasant for her to be pointed out as the flyaway girl who masqueraded as a Japanese. She hesitated so long on the steps that Miss Gresham came back to her. "What is the matter?" she asked.
"I wish you would go in with me," she begged. "I am afraid the servants will discover me, or, if they don't, that they won't let me go up without questions. If you were to ask for Mrs. Corner, I could go along with you and no one need notice particularly."
"I understand," responded Miss Gresham, "and of course I will go." So the matter of entrance was effected without undue remark. If any one observed the tall Japanese girl, she passed by so quickly that it gave but a momentary interest, and so was forgotten.
The adventure was frowned at of course, but in the presence of Miss Gresham and in the interest her account of the mission aroused, Jack was allowed to escape with less of a scolding than she really deserved. It was her first serious scrape since she had arrived in Japan, and perhaps that was one reason why it was treated with some degree of mildness. "Jack was bound to do something," said Nan, "and we are lucky to have her do nothing more serious. I am sure she won't venture forth again in such a get-up." And it is safe to say that Jack did not.
CHAPTER XVI
A PROSPECTIVE SERVANT
Although Jack's escapade was the talk of the hour, the excitement it brought died away in a day or two, while Jean's experiences continued to be discussed for a longer time. Every now and then would crop up something funny or, at least, interesting, which she had to tell about.
"I found out why the people here make such a noise in that piggy way when they eat," she told her family. "It is to show appreciation of your food. It is particularly desirable to do it when you are dining out, the more succulent the sound the more polite."
"Oh, Jean," protested Mary Lee.
"It is a fact, really it is. Ko-yeda told me and I noticed it myself."
"Let's all do that way the next time we go over to Jo's," proposed Jack. "She won't know what to make of it, but after a while we will tell her it is a custom we learned in Japan."
The girls laughed and agreed to try it. "Poor old Jo," said Jean. "She is out of it this time. I really miss her once in a while. She has always been around when we were having our good times."
"Don't you believe but that she would a thousand times rather be where she is." Nan spoke with conviction.
"I wonder if I shall feel like that ever," said Jack thoughtfully. "I can't imagine myself so devoted to a husband as Jo is to Dr. Paul."
"I wouldn't trust you," returned Jean. "You will quite as likely outdo her in your abject devotion."
"I hope I shall at least not be abject," retorted Jack stiffly. "That is one thing I shall not care to learn from the Japanese."
"Is Mrs. Sannomiya abject?" inquired Eleanor.
"Well, she is a little bit, but I have seen American women with big bullies of husbands quite as much so," Jean replied. "Not that Mr. Sannomiya is a bully, far from it, but I suppose it is the Japanese woman's prerogative to be humble as it is the man's to be lordly. The girls are all trained from the beginning to be meek and gentle, to exercise self-control under all circumstances, to smile and be agreeable no matter how mad they feel inside."
"Humph!" ejaculated Jack. "I'd like to see me."
"You would have to if you were a Japanese," insisted Jean.
"I think we will leave Jack here for a year in a Japanese household," remarked Mary Lee.
Jack made a face at her. "I'd run away," she said.
"Where?" said Mary Lee teasingly.
"Oh, I would throw myself upon the mercies of the American legation and get the chief to let me marry one of his nice attachés," returned Jack.
Mary Lee did not pursue the subject, but turned to Jean to ask, "Does Ko-yeda do anything about the house?"
"Oh, yes, though there isn't so very much to do; not near so much as in our homes. She always serves tea when there is extra company, and when her father has a particular guest she waits on them, not because there are no servants nor because they don't know how, but because it is considered the thing to serve the two, or three, or whatever number of men with their meal separately, and it is more hospitable and courteous to have it served by one of the ladies of the family."
"That is something the way they do in provincial districts at home," remarked Nan.
"What do the maids do?" inquired Mary Lee.
"Oh, they roll up the beds and store them away for the day in the closets, take down the mosquito nets, sweep and dust the rooms, wash the porches, and the dishes, maybe. The market people come with baskets to the door sometimes. Ko-yeda or her mother or grandmother used to go to the go-down and select what was to be the decoration for the day and one of them spent a long time arranging the flower vases. Then there always seemed to be some kimonos or something to be ripped up or dyed, for they use them over and over while there is anything left of them, and whenever they are washed they must be taken apart."
"Again like the primitive methods of our grandmothers and our thrifty New England women," said Nan.
"Just what class do the Sannomiyas belong to?" asked Mary Lee.
"I think that they must have been in the daimio class," Jean told her, "for they showed me some wonderful embroidered robes that had been in the family for years. I asked Ko-yeda why she didn't wear them, and she said that there was no class distinction nowadays, that the castles were done away with, for Japan is quite democratic."
"What has that to do with the robes?" asked Jack.
"The handsome embroidered robes were worn only by nobility," Jean told her. "The daimios were proud as Lucifer and their establishments in their castles must have been very much like those we read of in old feudal times. I believe there are still very exclusive households who keep up many of the old traditions."
"And the samurai class?" interrogated Nan.
"They were the military who had their special lords, and served them and the Shogun to the death. They were what we might call retainers, and they were the class between the upper nobility and the common people."
"And what were the ronin? Don't you know we are always hearing that tale of the 'Forty-seven Ronin'?"
"They were the masterless samurai, who wandered about, owing no special allegiance to any master."
"Oh, I see. This is all very interesting," declared Nan. "You certainly have learned something from your stay with the Sannomiyas, Jean. Tell us some more. What about the classes below the samurai, the common people, 'po' white trash' as it were?"
"So far as I could learn, the peasant class are called either eta or heimin, though it seems to me that the eta is lower than the heimin, for they are the ones who are considered very unclean, as they slaughter animals, tan skins, and are sometimes beggars."
"But tanners are quite respectable persons at home," put in Jack.
"They are not so here, for the having something to do with dead animals puts them quite without the pale. The samurai would be disgraced if he married into an eta family and would be considered an eta himself, although they maintain that there is no such thing as any difference in class nowadays. Mr. Sannomiya told me, through Ko-yeda as an interpreter, that the samurai despised trade and all that. The merchant class is considered, or used to be so, below the farmers; in fact they were not up to the mechanics, and were very low down in the social scale. That partly explains why there is so much talk of the dishonesty of tradespeople in Japan; it is the lower class who carry on the shops and all that, or so it was. The samurai try to keep to the professions and such employments, for it was formerly thought very low down indeed to barter in any way. All this is passing away, Mr. Sannomiya says, and many of the samurai are going into mercantile life, adopting Western standards and trying to establish a reputation for honest dealing which the merchant class have not always had."
"Did you make any dreadful mistakes?" inquired Jack.
"No, I don't think so. I wasn't quite as bad as the lady who wanted onions for dinner and told the cook to serve up a Shinto priest. The two words are almost the same, only one has a very different meaning from the other. The worst thing I did was to sit in front of the tokonoma when I went in. It was like planting yourself at the right hand of your host without being asked."
"How did you find out it was not the thing to do?" asked Mary Lee.
"I begged Ko-yeda to tell me if I had made any mistake. She was overcome with confusion at the idea of saying anything to the discredit of a guest, but I just insisted and she told me that."
"It was like Nan's taking her seat on the sofa in Germany," remarked Jack.
"Just about the same thing," Jean answered. "I imagine that American free and easy manners often shock the Japanese. Ko-yeda says that when she first came to Rayner Hall she was overwhelmed by the rudeness of American girls, and I can well believe it when you consider her point of view. I think you can set it down as a safe rule that it is well to apologize to a Japanese for anything and everything, that is, if you are using their language."
"Dear me," Jack sighed, "I suppose I have said dreadful things when I have tried to speak the language."
"I haven't a doubt of it," Jean was ready to agree. "When you are speaking of doing anything yourself you must say 'I humbly do thus and so,' but when you speak of another's doing the same thing you must say they do it honorably. If you give a present it is poor and insignificant, but if you accept the same thing it at once becomes magnificent."
"Well, I don't see how a foreigner ever learns," said Jack. "I shall never become a missionary or a teacher or anything that leads me to study the language."
"They insisted upon my entering the bath first," Jean went on, "and I soon saw that it would be very much out of place if I didn't. It may be the family all used the same water; I didn't inquire; I only know that it is the custom, the servants coming last, and they all do it in the frankest way. At the Sannomiyas' they were quite as particular as we would be, but I know it is not always so. The Sannomiyas are becoming quite Americanized. I am sure Ko-yeda has been teaching them our manners and morals. She thinks she may become a teacher; it was with that idea they sent her to us to be educated, but I have a notion that she will marry, though she said she meant to keep on with her studies here."
"Don't you wish she would have a wedding while we are here so we could see how it is done?" said Jack.
"I don't imagine it would be very different from our own ceremony," Jean rejoined, "for you know they are a Christian family, and her father says she shall marry none but a Christian. He is devoted to her and thinks we treat our women so well that she must have the same consideration."
"I am glad he thinks that," said Jack heartily.
This ended the conversation for the moment, for Nan, who had been looking up the attractions, announced that they must certainly see Lake Biwa. "It is the largest," she said, looking up from her guide-book, "and must be very beautiful."
"I heard some interesting things of Fuji," said Jean. "A beautiful goddess is supposed to make her home there. She has such a pretty name, 'The Princess who makes the Trees to Blossom.' I think a great many people think that the mythological stories are wicked because they are those of a false religion, but I really don't think that they ought to be frowned upon any more than those of the Greek heroes."
"I suppose," said Nan reflectively, "that the reason some persons condemn them is because the temples and the old rites are still present, while the Greek ones are a thing of the past."
"Well, they certainly can't hurt us," declared Jack, "and I want to hear them all."
"If you were to do that you would spend most of your time listening, for their name is legion," Jean told her. "I think they are perfectly fascinating, and so are the rites, and many things the people still do. I don't see why we shouldn't study all these things as curiosities, not as a religion."
The rest quite agreed with her and as Nan began to hurry them off, they went to get ready for their trip to Lake Biwa.
This, however, was interrupted in a manner entirely unlooked for. It was decided to take jinrikishas, as the country through which they would go was exceedingly lovely and they could enjoy the journey quite as much as the final view of the great lake. Past palaces and temples, long rows of gray-roofed houses, gay shops, parks and gardens they were carried to where the high hills arose above them on each side. In this warm weather and beyond the limits of the big city, little naked babies, and larger children scarcely clad, rolled about in play in the village streets through which they went. Jack and Nan were in the first jinrikisha, behind them came Jean and Miss Helen, while Mary Lee and Eleanor occupied the third. Mrs. Corner had decided to stay at home being rather afraid of the heat. Generally when the runners gave their call of "Hi! Hi!" the little ones scattered but there was one little youngster who, if hearing, did not heed and was bowled over completely, directly in the path of the runners. These stopped short nearly upsetting Jack and Nan who looked out to see what was the matter.
"What in the world are they jabbering about?" asked Jack looking out. "We seem to have stirred up the community, for, see, the people are coming running."
"We'd better get out," decided Nan, "and see what is wrong."
They suited the action to the word and presently found themselves on the edge of a group where there was much talk and gesticulating going on. The two tall girls could easily see over the heads of the nearest bystanders and discovered that the centre of interest was a small chubby little lad whose plump brown body bore evidences of having been hurt in some way, for blood was streaming from his head and he was quite limp and helpless. A woman was kneeling on the ground holding him while the coolie who had been the unfortunate cause of the accident was squatting near looking most unhappy.