knees. She was laughing up in his face. The baby was between them. The swords were rusting in their chest (he had only seen them once). He had forgotten who his lord was!
Said his wife, with a sigh, after her shiver of fear:
"No samurai, whose soul is the sword, whose watchword is Honor, will disobey his lord. Put on your armor, take your swords, and—go!"
But then she sobbed.
Nevertheless, she dragged the rattling armor from its chest, dropping tears upon it, and put it on him. Then they could stop trembling and laugh a little; for it was a sorry figure indeed that he cut. There was a huge bamboo head-piece with a great golden crest—noble and dignified, but very heavy at the top. There was a casque of many layers of lacquered bamboo. There were greaves which projected above his knees; for he was too small for the armor. Thus accoutred, Kito, a little later, went out, with Saigo and others accoutred like him, to meet the imperial army with its guns and cannon. The heaven-sent Sword—the Ex-
