Jinrikisha Days in Japan
that seemed harmless as water, but murdered sleep. Everywhere we found a new garden more enchanting than the last, and everywhere the way in which work-room and kitchen, living-room and sales-room were combined; women, children, family, workmen, and servants were ruled over by the master of the home and factory, offered a curious study in political economy and patriarchal government.
Until the Emperor, and finally the Empress and court ladies abandoned the national dress, the court-weaver of brocade remained a considerable personage, for he and his ancestors had been both tailors and dress-makers to those august personages. We visited the beautiful garden and lantern-hung verandas of this artistic dictator, and sipped tea, fanned the while by attentive maids, while the stout, dignified, and prosperous head of the ancient house and our Japanese official escort conversed. Afterwards we were shown the books of brocade and silks manufactured for the imperial family and court. The gorgeousness of some of these, especially the blazing red brocade, stiff with pure gold thread and covered with huge designs of the imperial chrysanthemum, or the Paulownia crest of the Emperor's family, fairly dazzled us. We saw the pattern of the old Emperors’ ceremonial robes, and patterns designed by past Empresses for their regal attire. Several of these were of a pure golden yellow, woven with many gold threads; one design half covered with fine, skeleton bamboos on the shimmering, sunshiny ground. The splendid fabrics that bear the imperial crest may be woven only for the reigning family, and their furniture-coverings, draperies, and carriage-linings are as carefully made and guarded as bank-note paper. Squares of thickest red silk, wrought with a single gold chrysanthemum, are woven for the Foreign Office, as cases for state papers and envoys’ credentials. Rolls of the finest white silk were ready to
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