dog-fancier's shop. 
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Buddha, or • grotesque and ugly monsters with 
dragons’ heads. The images of the gods of rain 
and tempest are frightful, and nothing can be more 
monstrous than some of the masks with goggle 
eyes and round, bloated cheeks. 
The educated classes of the Japanese only smile 
at the extravagances of the pppular religion, looking 
with contempt on these horrid effigies and mystical 
imaginary beings. The more intelligent of them 
prefer the religion of the Kami, or Happy Spirits, a 
quaint, fantastic form of worship, somewhat similar, 
I imagine, to the mythology of the Greeks and 
Komans. Many of them are followers of Con- 
fucius, and acknowledge one Great and Supreme 
Being. 
One of the most curious sights in Nagasaki is the 
dog-fancier’s shop, where the far-famed little poodles 
are sold. You enter a large apartment, where, under 
the care of a young and handsome woman, are 
specimens of the canine species of all ages, from 
the blind struggling puppy to the dog of elderly 
and respectable appearance. The dog-fancier’s wife. 
