Hallowe’en to Candlemas 
fence, there were groups of “ life-size figures, mainly 
covered with chrysanthemum flowers and leaves. They 
represented scenes from history, the drama, or Buddhist 
mythology, and were constructed with a framework of 
bamboo, inside which the flower-pots were concealed, the 
shoots being brought through the openings and trained 
over the outer surface. The heads and hands were made of 
painted wood, and swords and other accessories added to 
make them more lifelike ; the draperies, of living leaves and 
flowers, were skilfully arranged in large folds, and, as in 
most of the popular shows, they depicted the costumes 
of Daimio and Samurai of the past.” I told Gardener 
about these wonderful flower-statues, and he was much 
interested, but said he thought it would be difficult to 
compass here. Certainly, without a model, it would be 
impossible. 
The trees have been gorgeous with red and yellow leaves, 
there is a yellow glow over all the “ plantin.” But the 
branches are fast getting bare, and the squirrel “ Adjidaumo ” 
is no longer hid as he scuttles gaily along the boughs of the 
big beech by the drawing-room window or peeps at me 
round the bole of birch or fir. I watched two squirrels to- 
day for half an hour playing a sort of hide-and-seek in the 
old beech ; it was wonderful what slim boughs seemed able 
to support their weight, and how they jumped and skipped 
about, springing such distances ! Curious to say, a squirrel 
was seen sitting one day side by side with a portly brown 
owl on a branch of this same old ivied tree! The Red 
Indian name for a squirrel is so nice, “ The little one who 
sits under his tail.” We have only had one very slight 
shower of snow here, though elsewhere in the neighbour- 
hood they have not been so fortunate, and indeed the air 
has been comparatively so soft and damp that actually a 
pink anemone or two, and some auriculas, have peeped 
out, and some ill-advised crocuses are showing their tiny 
white teeth above the ground. The lovely ferns are all 
sadly draggled by the wet and frost, only the moss is 
fresh and green and beauteous under the fallen leaves. 
55 
