THE LADIES' FLORAL CABINET. 
243 
Meanwhile the young ladies occupied themselves, one 
iu embroidering an “obi” or girdle, the other in paint¬ 
ing on silk-tissue. 
By-and-by a little maid appeared, holding tile daily 
paper in her small hands; it was her duty to read aloud 
while the ladies worked. O Moto said to me : 
“My respected mother enjoys hearing the news; as 
it would be wearisome to you to listen to what you do 
not understand, perhaps you will accompany me to the 
dai-do-ko-ro ” (kitchen.) 
I assented ; we turned into a long, narrow passage, 
and entered the apartment in question. 
Japanese Kitchen. 
The clean floor was of har d wood ; on one side was a 
curious looking stove made of earth, having on top a 
number of various shaped apertures suited to the differ¬ 
ent sizes of the kettles, etc. Charcoal was the fuel 
employed. 
At the moment of our entrance a stout maid, with the 
long sleeves of her robe tidily caught back, was deep in 
the mysteries appertaining to the Japanese culinary de¬ 
partment. After bowing respectfully, she seized a pair 
of wooden clubs, and struck them together sharply. As 
the sound died away a man appeared from behind a 
clump of bushes, and going to the well near by, com¬ 
menced drawing water, and pouring it into a trough 
whence by means of a bamboo pipe it ran into a small 
tank at one side of the kitchen. When this was full the 
sticks came into play again and the man vanished. 
“ That is the rice-boiler and water-drawer,” exclaimed 
O Moto. “ He does nothing else, and when not needed 
retires to his own small dwelling, which you may see 
through the trees, where he divides his time between 
smoking and sleeping.” 
“His position is quite a sinecure,” I answered. 
“But what is the servant doing now?” I exclaimed, 
as she lifted an hitherto invisible trap in the floor. 
“ Oh, that is where the dai-kon (radish) is stored ; on 
account of its peculiar properties we prefer to keep it 
covered after it is pickled.” 
Looking down I saw a deep hole in which a tub had 
been sunk, but drew back quickly as the overpowering 
vegetable saluted my unaccustomed nose. 
“Let us visit the gardens,” suggested my friend, 
delicately. 
We strolled along, and finally saw Matayemon who, 
perched upon the curious bridge, was engaged in ang¬ 
ling, not unsuccessfully. 
He quickly joined us. and, as we walked, informed me 
that his duties demanded an immediate return to Yoko¬ 
hama. I, with the wooden pillow fresh in my recollec¬ 
tions, said I also must bring my pleasant visit to an end. 
When my intentions were made known to the family, 
every argument which politeness and genuine good-feel¬ 
ing could suggest, even to the Japanese mind, was used 
to induce me to alter my determination, but my resolu¬ 
tion was not to be shaken. 
After sundry complimentary “passages-at-arms,” in 
which Matayemon took the whole responsibility, the 
hour arrived for us to depart. 
0\xr jin-ri-ki-shas were announced; the whole family 
accompanied us to the entrance, and with many bows, 
hand-shakings and respectful prostrations on the part 
of the retainers, we stepped into our carriages and were 
borne rapidly away, promising at the last moment to 
pay a more extended visit in the near future. 
