Then we adjourned to the sitting-room, where the musician brought out two antique Chinese objects, one bearing resemblance to a flute and the other to a violin with shaggy, semicircular bow. On these he produced, not without effort, very weird sounds, which I was obliged to eulogise as being entirely novel and remarkable, for I could not compare them with any melodies familiar to European ears. I believe the others shared my relief when a painting competition was suggested, for they could all handle a brush as easily as I a pen, and the eye is less fastidious than the ear. The first bout was in three colours, sepia, Indian black, and red, though the last was sparingly used. The designs were rapidly and lightly touched in a hawk pouncing on a goose; a carp swimming against the stream; a frog climbing up a reed; and a terrified child, with shaven pate, running away from a temple-dancer, masked by a lion's head. Next a batch of fans was distributed to the competitors, who speedily adorned them with fanciful arabesques, in which curled clouds played hide-and-seek with Fuji, or moonlit pines peeped out from drifted snow. We drew lots for these souvenirs of playful skill, and to me fell the picture of the child flying from the lion-mask. But at this point Mr. Nomura's own children, two charming little girls, brought us in presents of flowers and cakes wrapped in silver paper. The rickshaws were at the door; sayonara rang cordially in our ears; one of the pleasantest calls I ever made came to an end.
Curiosity prompted me to attend the service held by native Christians in an abandoned Shintō temple perverted to evangelical use. Most of the congregation belonged to the more credulous sex. Mothers, carry-
