The rain lasted several days, the weather promising to be damp, humid and unpleasant from this time out. "Japan is most enervating," sighed Miss Helen. "Of course I knew its reputation as to climate, but I didn't quite realize how devitalizing it really would prove to be. If you girls have energy enough to go forth in the rain to view temples and curios and mission schools, you must not count on me as a constant companion." So the young people "flocked together," as Eleanor put it, and spent a part, at least, of each day in seeing shrines and such temples as could be reached without too much effort. Mrs. Craig was occupied in arranging for quarters at some cooler spot in the mountains and Miss Helen was half inclined to yield to her persuasions to become a neighbor if a suitable house could be found.

"I think it would be great fun to have a Japanese house of our own, for a little while anyhow," said Mary Lee, but Nan was not so sure that she wanted to leave Tokyo yet.

"There is much more to see," she urged as her reason.

"We could come back to it," argued her aunt.

"But it will get hotter and hotter," said Nan, "and more mosquitoish and we shall not want to come back until the summer is over," she added.

"Well, we needn't begin to argue about it yet," put in Mary Lee, "for we couldn't go anyhow until Mrs. Craig finds a place for us, and that will not be so easy to do."

So they lingered on in the rain, amusing themselves in many ways. Mr. Harding was very busy just at this time and was not able to give them much of his society, but Mr. Montell appeared frequently and Colonel Craig escorted them to many interesting places, to the museum in Uyeno Park, to the ZoÖlogical Garden, to Asakusa, or up and down the Ginza, the principal shopping street of the city.

"For my part," said Nan one day, as she and Mary Lee were being drawn rapidly through the rain to make a second visit to the temples of Asakusa, "I think it is really amusing to see the streets on a rainy day. It is ridiculously funny to watch the people with paper umbrellas and those queer clogs. Look at our runner, too; isn't he a sight, with his queer hat and that straw thatch of a cloak to keep off the rain? He looks so like the pictures we see that when I get to dreaming I can fancy the whole thing is unreal and that I am not here at all, but am looking at a moving picture show."

"Yes, but the jinrikisha men don't say 'Hi! Hi!' every few minutes as this one does," returned Mary Lee who was tenacious in the matter of absolute facts.

Nan laughed. The two were so very different, yet as they grew older were closer companions than they had been in their early days. Common experiences at college and in their travels had given them a better relation.

As they peeped out from behind the oilcloth curtain which protected them from the rain, they could see other jinrikishas drawn by similar straw-draped coolies, the water dripping down their legs, and their ceaseless note of warning calling attention to their advance through the narrow streets. They could see, too, women and children trotting along on their high clogs and wearing their rain-proof garments over which they held their umbrellas of oiled paper, so that, in spite of rain, the scene was not lacking color. Once in a while, a Buddhist priest or nun would be seen, and through the open fronts of the tea-houses along the way could be discerned squatting figures before tiny tables, eating with chop-sticks.

"Wouldn't it be fun to have a real Japanese party when we get back?" said Mary Lee. "We can get some chop-sticks and lacquered trays and things such as they have here."

"So we could," Nan fell in with alacrity. "We could have a hibachi, too, and we might, on a pinch, arrange a room just as one would look in a Japanese house here."

"And serve tea and rice cakes."

"Yes, and learn exactly the way to present a tray and to make a ceremonial bow. We could wear kimonos, of course, and could try to do our hair in Japanese style. We must get very handsome obis, for they are what determines a Japanese girl's dress."

"Do you notice how little jewelry they wear? Scarce any except handsome hair ornaments."

"That is so. We must not forget to buy some more hair ornaments; they will make lovely Christmas gifts. It will entertain us on some of the rainy days to go forth and provide the proper things for a real Japanese tea. We can have Joe come over to help us, and it will be great larks."

"We can give one another Japanese names; they have such funny ones. Imagine being called Bamboo Corner, or Tiger Corner, or some such queer name."

"But some of the names are very poetical, and not unlike those we use, flower names, like Lotus and Plum; those are not very different from our Rose and Violet."

"But nobody would think of calling a daughter Years of Bliss, not in the old United States."

"An Indian might, and as I think of it the Japanese do give names which mean in their language much the same that Indian names mean."

"I hadn't thought of that, but I believe you are right," returned Mary Lee.

They had now arrived before the gateway to the Park Asakusa, seeing before them oddly-shaped stone lanterns. On each side stood guardian figures known as the Two Kings. Once inside the gate were paved walks bordered by ancient cedar trees, hardly in keeping with the booths and shows which occupied the grounds. In spite of rain these were in operation, for here was a perpetual market-place where one could be amused on any day. The jinrikishas stopped to allow the party to alight and they all then stood before the great five-storied pagoda with its red roof.

"Shoes off, slippers on," said Eleanor slipping off her foot gear.

"And don't forget to wash your face and hands, nor your mouth and hands at the stone trough," Nan reminded her. They all went through this ceremony and went further in encountering the dealers in incense to be burned before the gods, and the sellers of rice for the sacred pigeons.

"We must get something for the horse," said Mary Lee, and after supplying herself with some cooked peas on a small plate she offered the food to a snow-white, pale-eyed animal who is dedicated to the goddess Kwannon. This office performed, they went inside to feed the pigeons and to hear an interesting talk from Colonel Craig who had made a study of this old temple.

The place was dimly lighted and full of the smoke of incense which, rising continually, made all objects indistinct,—glimmering Buddhas, strange pictures, streamers, banners, statues. The sound of chanting, and of startlingly queer musical instruments mingled with the clapping of the hands of worshipers kneeling before the various altars, while not in the least restrained, little children ran softly over the pavement laughing as they threw their handfuls of rice to the fluttering pigeons.

After they had made their rounds and had heard about early and late Japanese architecture, about other Pine Tree temples than that of Asakusa, and about the various shrines including that of the little Bindzuru, made of red lacquer and seated in a chair, they felt the pangs of hunger and were glad when the colonel proposed an adjournment to one of the various tea-houses in the grounds.

"We can refresh the inner man and then we can go to the circus or the museum or anywhere else you like," he said.

So off they went under the dripping cedars to find a modest little tea-house where they were received thankfully and were served a simple meal by a little smiling musmeÉ who drew up the tiny low tables before them where they sat hunched up on the floor cushions. The colonel and Nan found it hard to dispose their feet gracefully, much to the entertainment of the small maid who knelt before them to present her lacquered tray.

"Watch how she does it," whispered Nan to her sister, "for we must learn the trick before we leave this little country."

Mary Lee nodded understandingly and kept her eyes on the girl who smiled in response to such close observation.

The meal over, off they went to the museum and, but for the rain, would have stopped to see a fortune-teller who tried to lure them into her booth.

"We couldn't understand what she said, so what's the use?" remarked Mary Lee.

In some such manner were many rainy days spent, but at last there came a morning in May when the sun shone, and when from houses far and near floated strange figures of fish, "The Honorable Carp," for this was the Boy's Festival, and, as good luck would have it, the sun shone.

"Come and see! Come and see!" cried Mary Lee as she looked from the window that morning. "Isn't it a sight?"

"What is?" Nan hurried over. "Oh, we forgot entirely that this would be the fifth of May and that we might expect to see his honor, the carp, flying all over the city."

"I remember now, and Mr. Montell told us all about it. The carp is the symbol of courage and bravery which are the two things Japanese boys are taught to acquire."

"Those qualities, and loyalty to the emperor for whom any one of them would cheerfully die and say thank you."

"Why carp, I wonder. Why not shark or whale or dolphin, for example?"

"Because the carp is supposed to smile sweetly when you carve a slice from his living self, and to say, 'Hack away, good people; it doesn't hurt me and seems to please you.'"

"So that is why they serve them alive at dinners. I suppose it is to keep the much admired qualities continually in evidence. It doesn't seem quite fair to poor Brer Carp, whatever effect it may have on the little boys."

"I wonder why five fish are flying from that house over there," said Nan looking in the direction where the figures which, made like a bag and filled with the blowing wind, swelled their sides and flopped their tails quite realistically.

"There must be five boys in that house and the biggest fish stands for the youngest and littlest boy."

"Stands, did I hear you say?"

"Well then, wriggles or swims, whatever you like."

"I wonder what those little gilt baskets represent. They are baskets, aren't they? Over there on the long bamboo pole in front of that house that has the three fishes flying."

"Oh, those are supposed to hold the rice balls with which they feed the real fish. Some of the houses have other ornaments, you see; flags and signs and things. It looks very gay, doesn't it? But there isn't much of a crowd on the street, no more than usual."

"I like that legend of the koi, as they call the carp. He is said to be very persevering about swimming up-stream against the rapids and when he actually can fight his way up a waterfall he is caught up by a white cloud and becomes a dragon."

"That is why so many dragons, then."

"And by the same token, it is the why of fishes and waterfalls, and little gold balls in so many of the decorations. Isn't it queer that no matter at what time of year a boy is born his birthday is celebrated on May fifth?"

"Quite a matter of economy where there are several boys. Do you remember how Jack always used to feel aggrieved, when she was little, because she and Jean had to celebrate their birthday on the same day? She felt that you and I had the best of it because there were two days of feasting and party-giving instead of one for the two of us."

"Dear old Jack," said Nan with a sigh. "I tell you, Mary Lee, it will be mighty good to see those twinnies again and mother. As for mother it seems a year since we left her."

"We mustn't get homesick on a festival day. Let us go down and hear what is going on that we can join in. No doubt Mrs. Craig will have something on hand for to-day."

But there was nothing more exciting proposed than a ride through the streets and an invitation from the colonel to dine at some pleasant spot out of town where they could see a mass of iris in bloom.

Meantime, Mr. Harding, who had a little leisure from his duties at the legation, entertained them with stories of the festival. "I have a Japanese friend who has told me some interesting things about his boyhood," he began. "It used to be the custom to decorate the fronts of the houses with iris leaves on May fifth, at least such houses as might be the home of a boy, and in order that the lads should have a definite idea of what real fighting meant and in order to inure them to hardship they were obliged to rise at three or four o'clock on a winter morning, then, barefoot and with but one garment upon his little body, the youngster had to go to the fencing field where he had to do his best at sword play. He was not more than eight years old when he was expected to do this in order that he might learn not to fall into luxurious habits."

"Poor little fellow," said Nan compassionately. "Imagine an American boy doing such a thing. Wouldn't he think it hard lines?"

"He surely would, for even though he may be a farmer's son, he isn't expected to go out barefoot and so slightly clad on a winter morning."

"Tell us some more boy doings," said Eleanor.

"You will see them with their little swords at mock battle even to-day, and if you could go into one of their homes you would observe that the decorations were in keeping with the spirit of the festival. Iris will be the flower partly because of its sword-like leaves and partly because the iris is supposed to have qualities for giving strength. Our Japanese boy will have the leaves thrown into his hot bath, and if there be more than one boy the eldest will have the first turn."

"It is the funniest thing how they seem to pop into a hot bath upon all occasions," remarked Eleanor. "I believe some of them stay there most of the time in winter in order to keep warm."

"There is really some truth in that. You see there are a great many hot springs in Japan and their means of heating houses are not like ours, so as nature provides liquid heat why not take advantage of it?"

"Didn't I hear some one say that the carp is the emblem of good luck as well as of strength and courage?" asked Nan.

"Yes, and that gives him a double cause for being used as ornament. Last year I went to a native house on the fifth of May when I saw a lot of carp swimming about in a tub. They had been sent as a present in honor of the arrival of a young son. I learned it is the custom to do this. There was an older son in the family and he took me into the best room which is called the guest room, and there I saw the most exquisite arrangement of flowers I ever came across, but the flowers were of small account to the boy by the side of his toy weapons and soldierly figures all in array. Soldiers on horseback, men in armor, bows and arrows, swords, spears, strange emblematical banners and such things, and each figure represents some hero, some tale of loyalty or courage which the little boys are taught to know by heart. The figures are really portraits and as such are more appealing than ordinary ones would be. It was all very interesting and if I had a better knowledge of the language, I could have understood the stories better, but as it was, I heard enough to be impressed."

"Dear me, I wish we knew some Japanese boys," said Eleanor.

"The family I spoke of is not here now," her brother told her, "or we could go to their house to-day."

"At all events," said Nan, "it is very nice to hear of your experience and we had the delight of seeing the dolls on exhibition in March."

"They have special cakes for to-day and red rice is served," Mr. Harding went on, "and in their sakÉ they scatter iris petals. The boys hope for some warlike toy when their 'honorable father Mr.' gives them anything. So you may see the little fellows playing soldier with a new sword, a little gun, a bow and arrows or something of that kind."

Later in the day as they went through the streets in front of the little brown, low houses they did see the boys playing soldier quite as one might see them at home, and as the young people walked along, below the flapping fish with their gaping mouths, staring eyes and glittering fins, they saw little confusion.

Colonel Craig met them with a tiny gold carp for each girl as a souvenir of the day and on their bill of fare the koi was in evidence, although not alive as he should properly have been in Japanese estimation. The spot the colonel had chosen was close to the river Sumida and near to fields of iris, not yet in their full glory which would be attained in June, still, at this season, one could stand upon the banks and look down upon the flowers already sending up their gay banners.

"Such a flowery, fairy-like land is this," said Nan to Mr. Harding who, as usual, had sought her out. "I hate to think of how it is changing, and how they are adopting our ugly costumes in place of their own picturesque one. Your aunt says at all public functions and even at private social gatherings the European dress is always worn."

"Yes, that is very true, though I fancy that it is exchanged for the native one as soon as home is reached. The Japanese are very proud of their progress in European habits and customs and cannot bear to have you deplore it. They think that it would mean a retrogression if they retained the old Japan. They would rather be praised for their industries than their temples, for their political acumen than their flower culture and for their wealth than their picturesqueness. The American market calls for so much that is in bad taste that we cannot expect their own not to be vitiated. Vulgar wealth calls for ostentation and why should they retain simplicity? We are a great nation whose success is enviable and why not imitate us in all matters?"

"It is discouraging," sighed Nan, "but I suppose it is the law of compensation. As we acquire some love of the artistic so it is lost by those who supply us with what appeals to a growing taste for the beautiful, and so civilization levels."

"At the rate that foreign art treasures are pouring into the United States we shall soon expect to find more at home than abroad."

"They won't take up the Forum and Pompeii, nor the Egyptian pyramids," said Nan with satisfaction, "so I shall still expect to have enough to last my lifetime."

"There is nothing like finding a cause for congratulation under all circumstances," replied Mr. Harding with a laugh. "I knew you were an optimist."

"Except sometimes when I get a fit of real indigo blues and can see no rose-color anywhere."

"Oh, yes, that happens to most of us. I get struck bally west by the blues myself once in a while and then——"

"What do you do?"

"I get out my violin."

"That reminds me that you have not yet played for me. The next rainy day we must have some music, now that your aunt has taken up a residence in her own house."

"Agreed. We will make it a compact to hie us to a rainy day festival as soon as occasion requires, and we shall not have to wait long for it, if I know anything about Japanese springs."

Here the rest joined them and it was voted that a boat might provide a good means of seeing more of the iris fields. This was decided upon, theirs not being the only one upon the river, for they discovered it to be quite the fashion to go boating at iris time quite as it was when the cherry blossoms invited a crowd to gaze upon the flowering trees.

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