time for sleep. It will be short and duties come aplenty. They appear and disappear, nothing immodest in their movements. And then each creeps between the heavy futon (quilts), rests her head upon the wooden pillow, and the last one draws the paper sliding window across, leaving nothing but shadows for me to look upon.
Long after the noise of the tea-house had subsided, I would stand and gaze out across Kobe, beyond the veil of simple tasks concealed, over a deep blue gulch to where glittered innumerable lights, to where the sound of the pneumatic hammers thundered away at the steel hull of the super-dreadnought—the Ise—which was then being built at the shipyards. And I would wonder what it was being made to protect. This? This laughter and hilariousness of narikin who spend their profits at these tea-houses? And I looked further out over Japan and saw fifty millions working, or rather trying to do what specialization and organization have done elsewhere—doing it in the same slipshod, crude, old-fashioned ways as it was being done in this very household into which chance had brought me.
But what is it that induces so much noise and laughter? What can the grown-up Japanese see in these tiny mites or even their more grown-up sisters, to lavish so much wealth and dignity upon them? To a sober Western observer it seems the height of absurdity, and in one way is a splendid commentary on Japanese character.
True, there were more dignified performances, as when the Minister of Communications came to stay there. An elaborate dinner was given, and the most attractive geisha obtainable were ordered. As I looked through the thin gauze curtains which hung across the inner open door-way, it seemed like some fairy setting. A row of men had squatted upon the mats, eating a meal endlessly various. There seemed end neither to dishes nor appetite. The saké flowed freely. Then the geisha commenced to dance, and a more gorgeous spectacle could not be found anywhere. The minister himself, though preserving the utmost dignity, was not too disdainful of the grosser enjoyments. Applause was profuse. But the guests disbanded somewhat earlier than usual—at eleven o'clock.
It is customary to observe all sorts of events, business or otherwise, personal or national, with similar feastings, and frequently foreigners are invited. Especially was this so during the war, and when the armistice and peace were celebrated. Then narikin gave dinners which vied in elaborateness with those of the West.
