tablets stuck on each box. I think I must have felt even uncomfortable on seeing myself among the select few. My plebeian mind, which was familiar with the general theatre-goers of other common houses created by advertisements, was struck by the sight of the dresses in quieter shade of the lady audience, even those of the younger ladies who put aside their wild whims to satisfy and not to break the quiet atmosphere of the No house; and I was surprised at the general quietude that overflowed from the hearts of artistic sensibility. The audience make me think of the people in the tea-room or Sukiya for a ceremonial sip of tea, wrapped in silence and grayness; what difference is there between the three hundred people in the hall, and the five persons that are the usual number to be put in the tea-room, since the theory of the non-existence of space to the enlightened has much meaning? When I saw the people here in the hall move in and out of the boxes, without spoken words, like silent birds from twig to twig, with a slight bow that was beautiful, the web-like passways again reminded me of a roji or garden path connecting the portico where the guests wait, with the tea-room where, you have to break away from the dust and din of the world, to prepare yourself for the aesthetic enjoyment of the tea. Such a comparison, I admit, may sound too elaborate or even improbable. But
