A Japanese Boy
softly and went to the door of her former employer. Her diplomacy was to
give the cross old fellow a sight of the lovely grandchild and thereby
work a miracle in his stony heart, surmising at the same time that time
must have done something towards mollifying his obstinacy. This
accomplished, it would be an easy step to persuade him to take them all
back into his favor. Alas, poor faithful soul! it was but a woman's
wisdom: Mr. Gladness was still found inexorable.
On that memorable night slowly she walked into our house with the babe
in her arms, and sat herself down heavily by the dim, papered Japanese
household lamp. For some time she remained silent and glanced around the
room furtively; to her unspeakable satisfaction there was nobody there
beside ourselves. Then the mental tension with which she upheld the
whole weight of misery and woe gave way, and she burst into a flood of
tears. I recollect the unusual solemn hush of the room, the serious
looks of the company and the distracting sobs on the other side of the
lamp; I recollect my becoming unaccountably sad, too, and looking away
at a corner in my effort to refrain from tears; I beheld the paper god
pasted high up on the pillar brown with age and smoke. When Aunty
recovered herself, she managed to inform us how she had been received by
Mr. Gladness and told us she had made up her mind, if the young people
were willing, to move to one of the islands in the Sound where she was
sure of a kindlier reception. So the kind old soul, foiled in the last
of her struggles, left her friends at Imabari for the simple life of the
islanders. At intervals, we had intelligence of her whereabouts, but as
years rolled on news reached us no more.
I have given this account of Aunt Otsuné somewhat at length, because I
felt interested in reviving her half-forgotten memory; and I have
entered upon the history of Miss Chrysanthemum and Mr. Prosperity in
order to show to the people of this country, who are misinformed on the
subject of Japanese marriage and believe that our young people are, in
all cases, matched by their parents and not infrequently to those whom
they do not love,--in order to show, I say, to these misinformed people
by an actual example from my own observation, that such is not the case,
and that our people marry for love of each other, notwithstanding the
artificial manners of our society.
CHAPTER X.
I was generally happy in my childish days in Japan. I cannot put my
finger on any particular thing as my chief happiness, but I think
holidays made me as happy as anything. We have a number of holidays,
among which the first and the greatest is New Year's Day.
The first three days of January! I shall never forget them. But like
most celebrations New Year pleasure must be chiefly felt in a few
preparatory days. In Japan full vigor is preserved among children for
Happy New Year; here in America Merry Christmas, with its Santa Claus
and his stockingful of presents, takes away the zest from children
before New Year comes. The merriment of the season is materially
heightened by the making of the mochi. The mochi, which I have referred
to once before, is a glutinous cake made of rice; it is as peculiarly
indispensable in the New Year feast as is turkey in the New England
Thanksgiving dinner. It is generally no larger than a man's palm,
therefore one family makes a great number of them. Many are stuffed with
the an. The an is not necessarily sweet; some people like it flavored
with salt. A large number of the mochis are not stuffed; they are
suffered to dry and harden, so that they can be stored away for future
enjoyment. At any time during the year you may get them out and steam or
toast them. In our town there are men who make it their business to
visit houses and help them in mochi-making. Just before New Year the
professional mochi-makers work hard day after day. They could not always
come in the daytime and made arrangements to visit us in the early
morning. Then my sisters and I could hardly go to sleep in the great
anticipation of joy. When the morning came, our house was thrown open,
illuminated (for it was yet dark) brightly and cheerfully, and the whole
household were up doing something with willing hand and heart. I cannot
describe how happy I was in this scene. I tried, half in play, to help
them and got in everybody's way. You know the holiday feelings are very
difficult to reproduce with pen and ink.
Along the house on the street the men arranged a row of small earthen
cooking stoves, which they had brought with them, each carrying two. The
mode of carrying in this case, as well as in the transportation of any
heavy load, is to use the shoulder as fulcrum and, laying on it an
elastic wooden pole from whose ends hangs the burden, walk in steady
balance, presenting the appearance of a pair of scales. Over the stoves
were placed vessels of boiling water, over the vessels tubs with holes
in the bottom and straw covers on top, in the vessels were heaps of rice
washed perfectly white. The rice used in mochi-making is different from
ordinary dinner rice; it is more glutinous when cooked and easily made
into paste; it is a distinct variety selected in the beginning for the
express purpose. The stoves are short hollow cylinders, open at the top
and in the front; the top receives the bottom of the vessel, and the
front opening or mouth ejects smoke and allows the feeding of fuel. They
seemed on this occasion to blaze more brightly; we children went out and
watched the dancing flames; they made our faces glow with their
reflection.
When the rice was steamed long enough, it was transferred and made into
paste in an utensil, like which I have seen nothing in this country. It
is simply a stout trunk of a felled tree a few feet in height with its
upper end scooped out. With it is a cylindrical block with a handle, a
sort of pestle to press and strike upon the steamed rice. There was
something joyous about the dull thumps when heard in the neighborhood,
perhaps not to a foreign ear but to one brought up amongst customs
associated with New Year holidays. And never at other times was our
house so overflowing with hilarity as at this climax of domestic
enjoyment. When the rice lost its granular appearance and became a
uniform sticky mass, then it was placed upon a large board spread with
rice flour. There it lay steaming, milk-white, this luxury of New
Year,--luxurious even to the touch! The entire household flocked around
it and made numerous round cakes. While our hands were busy, we
interchanged many innocent jokes and merry laughs; the old people gave
in to our sway, displaying a quiet humor in their looks.
We set up the New Year tree. It is a drooping willow tree thickly
studded with rice-paste and hung with ornate cotton balls, painted
cards, etc. Throughout the month of January it is to be seen in the
parlor of every house nailed against the wall.
After nightfall on the last day of the old year a curious ceremony is
performed. The worthy head of the family goes the round of his house
with a box of hard burnt beans. Within every chamber he stands upright
and throws a handful of the same, exclaiming at the top of his
voice,--"Welcome Good Luck! Away with the Devil!" Now, the box used
provisionally for a receptacle is a rice measure called măsu, which
sounds like the verb meaning increase; and the beans are mămĕ, which is
the same as the noun meaning health, although written and accented
differently. Putting them together we have a supplication in a play upon
words,--"Increase health," or "May health increase!" Odd and fantastic
as the notion appears, however, it is a hallowed custom and scrupulously
observed. My father formerly performed the ceremony in our house; but
when my eldest brother had grown up, he was assigned to the office,
which he discharged with a comic gravity that I cannot forget.
The Japanese looks upon certain periods--I forget which--of his life as
evil years. To avert hovering ill influences or to "drop" the years as
they put it, the people take of the beans as many as their years, put
them in paper bags together with a few pence and drop them at some
cross-roads, taking care not to be seen. In this manner I have dropped
several of my earlier bad years; I should have been wrecked a long time
since, for life, but for the bags of beans!
In the same evening tradesmen desire to collect old bills and clear up
the accounts of the passing year; and in order to do it they call at the
houses of their debtors, lighting their way with lanterns which bear the
signs of their commercial establishments. So general is this idea, and
so customary has this proceeding become in time, that everybody expects
it as a matter of course at the end of each year; debtors, too, are
easily dunned. A consequence is one of the grandest displays of
lanterns. What a delight it was to me to stand before my house and watch
the countless lights move up and down the street! When I was older I was
appointed lantern-bearer before the collector for my father, who
instructed his man to give me points, incidentally, in business.
The next morning dawns, and the first day of the New Year is with us.
Everybody seems happy, kind-hearted and filled with better feelings.
Shopping housewives, grocers and hucksters of all sorts of holiday
market goods have disappeared from the streets; the change is like that
of Sunday morning from Saturday afternoon in an American city. All the
houses are carefully swept and put in good order, and the people have on
their best apparel. A kind of arch is erected in front of each dwelling.
But it is not round, it is square. Two young pine trees are planted for
the pillars, and cross-pieces of green bamboo are tied to them. On this
frame-work are placed the traditional simple ornaments; straw fringes,
sea-weeds, ferns, a red lobster-shell, a lemon, dried persimmons, dried
sardines and charcoal. These articles stand for many auspicious ideas;
reflect a moment and they will come home clear to your mind. The pines,
bamboos, sea-weeds and ferns are evergreens, fit emblems of constancy;
the straw fringes are for excluding evil agencies--the lamb's blood on
the door; the lobster by its bent form is indicative of old age or long
life; the lemon is dăi-dăi--"generation after generation;" the dried
persimmons are sweets long and well preserved; the sardines from their
always swimming in a swarm denote the wish for a large family; and
lastly, the stick of charcoal is an imperishable substance.
When the morning sun rises gloriously or snow-flakes happen to fall (for
we have snow in Japan), children leap out from under the arches, salute
one another and begin to indulge in outdoor holiday games.
To speak about breakfast may be trespassing upon hospitality, but the
Japanese New Year breakfast is something unique. The mochi makes up the
main part. The unstuffed rice-cakes are cooked with various articles;
potatoes, fish, turnips and everything palatable from land and sea is
found with them. A person of ordinary capacity can scarcely take more
than a few bowlfuls of the dish, but there are people brave enough to
dispatch twenty or thirty at a time! For weeks after whenever idlers of
the town come together there is always a warm discussion concerning
their comparative merits in this respect. I have noticed that the good
people of this republic also look upon Thanksgiving and Christmas as the
days on which to indulge their best appetite; and I have heard persons
telling the wonders of their stomachs and seeking opinions of the wise
men around them, who are likewise dreaming over their pipes again of the
turkeys, chicken-pies and plum-puddings that are gone by.
As the day advances, good towns-people in decorous antique garb appear