Chapter I: A Regular Mess

Some six years back lived in the beautiful village of Minoge an old lady who kept the big tea-house of the place known as the "White Pine." Minoge is situated at the base of the holy mountain Oyama, and during the months of August and September trade in Minoge was always brisk, on account of the influx of pilgrims from all parts of Japan, who came hither to perform the holy duty of ascending the mountain, and of paying their devoirs at the shrine of the Thunder-God, previous to making the grand pilgrimage of Fuji-Yama.

The old lady was well off, and her inn bore an unblemished reputation for possessing the prettiest serving-girls, the gayest guest-chambers, and the primest stewed eels--the dish _par excellence_ of Japanese _gourmets_--of any hostelry in the country side. One of her daughters was married in Yedo, and a son was studying in one of the European colleges of that city; still she was as completely rustic and unacquainted with the march of affairs outside as if she had never heard of Yedo, much less of foreigners. At that time it was a very rare thing indeed for a foreigner to be seen in Minoge, and the stray artists and explorers who had wandered there were regarded much in the same way as would have been so many white elephants.

It caused, therefore, no little excitement in the village when, one fine autumn evening, the rumour came along that a foreigner was making his way towards the "White Pine." Every one tried to get a glimpse of him. The chubby-cheeked boys and girls at the school threw down their books and pens, and crowded to the door and windows; the bath-house was soon empty of its patrons and patronesses, who, red as lobsters with boiling water, with dishevelled locks and garments hastily bound round them, formed line outside; the very Yakunin, or mayor, sentenced a prisoner he was judging straight off, without bothering himself to inquire into evidence, so as not to be balked of the sight, and every wine and barber's shop sent forth its quota of starers into the little street.

Meanwhile the foreigner was leisurely striding along. He was taller by far than the tallest man in Minoge, his hair was fair, and even his bronzed face and hands were fair compared to those of the natives. On the back of his head was a felt wide-awake, he wore a blue jacket and blue half trousers (Anglice, knickerbockers), thick hose, and big boots. In his mouth was a pipe--being much shorter than Japanese smoking tubes--in his hand a stick, and on his back a satchel.

As he passed, one or two urchins, bolder than the rest, shouted out, "Tojin baka" ("Foreign beast") and instantly fled indoors, or behind their mothers' skirts; but the majority of the villagers simply stared, with an occasional interjection expressive of wonder at his height, fair hair, and costume.

At the door of the "White Pine" he halted, unstrapped his bundle, took off his boots, and in very fair Japanese requested to be shown his room. The old lady, after a full ten minutes' posturing, complimenting, bowing, and scraping, ushered him into her best guest-chamber. "For," said she, "being a foreigner, he must be rich, and wouldn't like ordinary pilgrim accommodation." And she drew to the sliding screens, and went off to superintend his repast. Although nothing but the foreigner's boots were to be seen outside, a gaping crowd had collected, striving to peer through the cracks in the doors, and regarding the boots as if they were infernal machines. One, more enterprising than the rest, took a boot up, passed it to his neighbour, and in a short time it had circulated from hand to hand throughout the population of Minoge, and was even felt and pinched by the mayor himself, who replaced it with the reverence due to some religious emblem or relic.

Then the hostess served up her banquet--seaweed, sweets, raw "tighe"--the salmon of Japan--in slices, garnished with turnips and horse-radish, egg soup with pork lumps floating in it, chicken delicately broiled, together with a steaming bottle of her choicest "San Toku Shiu," or wine of the Three Virtues (which keeps out the cold, appeases hunger, and induces sleep).

The foreigner made an excellent meal, eked out by his own white bread, and wine from a flask of pure silver, then, lighting his pipe, reclined at full length on the mats, talking to the old lady and her three damsels, O Hana, O Kiku, and O Riu (Miss Flower, Miss Chrysanthemum, and Miss Dragon). He was walking about the country simply for pleasure, he said--which astonished the women greatly--he had been away from Yokohama three weeks, and was now on his road to the big mountain. The party were soon screaming with laughter at his quaint remarks and at his occasional colloquial slips, and in a short time all were such good friends that the old lady begged him to display the contents of his satchel. "Certainly," said the stranger, pulling it towards him and opening it. A dirty flannel shirt or two didn't produce much impression--perhaps wares of a similar nature had been imported before into Minoge--nor did a hair-brush, tooth-brush, and comb; but when he pulled out a pistol, which was warranted to go off six times in as many seconds, and proceeded to exemplify the same in the air, popular excitement began to assert itself in a series of "naruhodo's" ("really!"). Then he pulled out a portable kerosine lamp--(kerosine lamps are now as common in Japan as shrines by the road-side)--and the light it made, throwing entirely into the shade the native "andon," or oil wick, burning close by, raised the enthusiasm still higher. Lastly he showed a small box of medicines, "certain cures," said he, "for every disease known amongst the sons of men."

The old lady and the maids were enchanted, and matters ended, after much haggling and disputation, in the foreigner allowing them to keep the three articles for the very reasonable sum of fifty dollars--about fifteen pounds sterling--which was handed over to the foreigner, who called for his bedding and went fast asleep.

The first thing for the old lady to do the next day was to present herself and maids in full holiday costume with their recent purchases at the house of the mayor. The great man received them and their goods with the dignity befitting his rank, and promised that a public trial should be made of the pistol, lamp, and medicines, at an early date, in order to determine whether they were worthy to be adopted as institutions in the village.

Accordingly, by proclamation, at a fixed date and hour, all Minoge assembled in the open space facing the mayor's house, and the articles were brought forth. The pistol was first taken and loaded, as directed by the foreigner, by the boldest and strongest man in the village. The first shot was fired--it wounded a pack-horse, standing some twenty yards away, in the leg; he took fright and bolted with a heavy load of wine tubs down the street into the fields: the second shot went through a temple roof opposite, and shattered the head of the deity in the shrine: the third shot perforated the bamboo hat of a pilgrim; and it was decided not to test the remaining three barrels.

Then the lamp was brought forth: the wick was turned up full, and the village strong man applied a light. The blaze of light was glorious, and drew forth the acclamations of the crowd; but the wick had been turned up too high, the glass burst with a tremendous report, the strong man dropped the lamp, the oil ignited, ran about and set fire to the matting. In ten minutes, however, the local fire brigade got the flames under, and the experiments proceeded.

The medicine packets were brought forth. The first was a grey powder. A man who had been lame from youth upwards was made to limp out. The powder mixed with water, according to directions, was given him. He hobbled away in frightful convulsions, and nearly injured his whole limb in so doing.

The second packet was then unsealed--it contained pills. A blind man was called out--six pills were rammed down his throat, and he was left wallowing in a ditch. The third packet, a small book containing sticking plaster, was then introduced. A burly peasant, victim to fearful toothache, was made to stand forth. The interior of his mouth was lined with the plaster, and when he attempted in his disgust to pull it off, away came his skin also.

The medicines were condemned _nem. con._

The foreigner returned, asked how matters had gone, and was told in polite but firm terms that his machines were not suited to the people of Minoge. Whereupon he returned the fifty dollars to the old lady of the "White Pine," and went away laughing. Minoge subsided into its ordinary every-day groove of life, and it was not till some years after that the inhabitants became better used to pistols, lamps, and European medicines.