now she had already reached the age of 30. ············································· A week pased by. One morning Ryudo, standing in one of his rooms, was designing a rather big picture, referring every now and then to his sketch-book in which he had lately been taking down some rough drawings. From the wicket-gate which led into the garden, came Otane, clothed in a morning dress, and holding in her hands a small parcel wrapped round with a ‘furoshiki.’
“My dear brother, I have something nice for you here … but you must thank me first!” She smilingly approached the verandah and sat down.
“What have you got?” He said from his room.
“A real live moorhen! The old woman a few doors away gave it to me.”
Ryudo was silent, but after a moment he carefully put down his brushes, and came to where she was seated.
“What do you think about it? Aren’t you glad?”
“But why on earth did she give you such a thing?”
“The other day I was chatting to her about moorhens, and she told me that, if we set some floating hooks for eels about the garden, it would be very easy to catch one. She did so, and caught this one for us!”
Ryudo streched out his hands, and gently attempted to undo the furoshiki. The bird, which had remained quiet until this moment, now began to flutter beneath its covering.
“Please do not touch it, for it might get away.
