“Don’t talk of it,” said Yaji. “You’ll break my heart.”
“And then, when through my labors I had saved enough money to buy a kimono, I had to pawn it for your sake and never saw it again. Never again did it come back to me from the pawnbroker’s.”
“At the same time you must remember what a pleasant place you are in now,” said Yaji, “while I have to worry along down here.”
“What? What is there pleasant about it? It is true that by the help of your friends you erected a stone over my grave, but you never go near it, and you never contribute to the temple to get the priests to say prayers for my soul. I am nothing to you. The stone over my grave has been taken away and put into the wall, where all the dogs come and make water against it. Not a drop of water is ever placed on my grave. Truly in death we suffer all sorts of troubles.”
“True, true,” said Yaji.
“But while you thus treat me with neglect,” the witch went on, “lying in my grave I think of nobody but you and long for the time when you will join me in the underworld. Shall I come to meet you?”
“No, no, don’t do that,” said Yaji. “It’s really too far for you.”
“Well then, I have one request to make.”
“Yes, yes. What is it?”
“Give this witch plenty of money.”
“Of course, of course.”
“How sad the parting!” cried the witch. “I have yet much to tell you, countless questions to ask you, but the messenger of Hell recalls me!”
Then, recovering from her trance, the witch twanged her bow.
“Thank you very much,” said Yaji. He took out some money and wrapped it in paper and gave it to her.
“Ha, ha!” laughed Kita. “Now all your hidden shames are revealed to the world. Ha, ha, ha! But I say, Yaji, you look very downcast. What do you say to a drink?”
Yaji agreed and clapping his hands ordered the maid to bring some saké.
“How far have you come today?” asked the witch.
