paragraph, it may be said that the Japanese have turned what we call mechanical industries into fine arts, which display a magnificent triumph of æstheticism even in little things.[1]
This chapter would be incomplete without a paragraph concerning Japanese shops, or retail stores, which are among the first curiosities to attract and rivet a foreigner's attention. The building is, perhaps, a small, low, frame structure, crowded among its fellows on a narrow lane. The floor is raised a foot or so above the ground, and is covered, as usual, with thick matting. Spread out on the floor or on wooden tiers or on shelves are the goods for sale. The shopkeeper sits on his feet on the floor, and calmly smokes his pipelet, or fans himself, or in winter warms his hands over the hibachi (fire-bowl). He greets you with a profound bow and most respectful words of welcome, but makes no attempt to effect a sale, or even to show an article unless you ask to see it. He is imperturbably indifferent whether or not you make a purchase; either way, it is all right. He will politely display anything you want to see; and, even if, after making him much trouble, you buy nothing or only an insignificant and cheap article, he sends you away with as profound a bow and as polite expressions as if you had bought out the shop. Whether you buy little or much or even nothing, you are always dismissed with "Arigatō gozaimasu" and "Mata irasshai," which are very re-
- ↑ See also chapter on "Æsthetic Japan."
