Glimpses of an Unfamiliar Japan, vol 2 | Page 8

say,
nowhere save in Himeji. A famous play was written about O-Kiku,
which is still acted in all the popular theatres, entitled
Banshu-O-Kiku-no-Sara- yashiki; or, The Manor of the Dish of O-Kiku
of Banshu.
Some declare that Banshu is only the corruption of the name of an
ancient quarter of Tokyo (Yedo), where the story should have been laid.
But the people of Himeji say that part of their city now called Go-Ken-
Yashiki is identical with the site of the ancient manor. What is certainly
true is that to cultivate chrysanthemum flowers in the part of Himeji
called Go-KenYashiki is deemed unlucky, because the name of O-
Kiku signifies 'Chrysanthemum.' Therefore, nobody, I am told, ever
cultivates chrysanthemums there.
º9
Now of the ujo or things having desire, which inhabit these gardens.
There are four species of frogs: three that dwell in the lotus pond, and
one that lives in the trees. The tree frog is a very pretty little creature,
exquisitely green; it has a shrill cry, almost like the note of a semi; and
it is called amagaeru, or 'the rain frog,' because, like its kindred in other
countries, its croaking is an omen of rain. The pond frogs are called
babagaeru, shinagaeru, and Tono-san-gaeru. Of these, the first-named
variety is the largest and the ugliest: its colour is very disagreeable, and
its full name ('babagaeru' being a decent abbreviation) is quite as
offensive as its hue. The shinagaeru, or 'striped frog,' is not handsome,

except by comparison with the previously mentioned creature. But the
Tono-san-gaeru, so called after a famed daimyo who left behind him a
memory of great splendour is beautiful: its colour is a fine bronze-red.
Besides these varieties of frogs there lives in the garden a huge uncouth
goggle-eyed thing which, although called here hikigaeru, I take to be a
toad. 'Hikigaeru' is the term ordinarily used for a bullfrog. This creature
enters the house almost daily to be fed, and seems to have no fear even
of strangers. My people consider it a luck-bringing visitor; and it is
credited with the power of drawing all the mosquitoes out of a room
into its mouth by simply sucking its breath in. Much as it is cherished
by gardeners and others, there is a legend about a goblin toad of old
times, which, by thus sucking in its breath, drew into its mouth, not
insects, but men.
The pond is inhabited also by many small fish; imori, or newts, with
bright red bellies; and multitudes of little water-beetles, called
maimaimushi, which pass their whole time in gyrating upon the surface
of the water so rapidly that it is almost impossible to distinguish their
shape clearly. A man who runs about aimlessly to and fro, under the
influence of excitement, is compared to a maimaimushi. And there are
some beautiful snails, with yellow stripes on their shells. Japanese
children have a charm-song which is supposed to have power to make
the snail put out its horns:
Daidaimushi, [22] daidaimushi, tsuno chitto dashare! Ame haze fuku
kara tsuno chitto dashare! [23]
The playground of the children of the better classes has always been the
family garden, as that of the children of the poor is the temple court. It
is in the garden that the little ones first learn something of the
wonderful life of plants and the marvels of the insect world; and there,
also, they are first taught those pretty legends and songs about birds
and flowers which form so charming a part of Japanese folk-lore. As
the home training of the child is left mostly to the mother, lessons of
kindness to animals are early inculcated; and the results are strongly
marked in after life It is true, Japanese children are not entirely free
from that unconscious tendency to cruelty characteristic of children in
all countries, as a survival of primitive instincts. But in this regard the
great moral difference between the sexes is strongly marked from the
earliest years. The tenderness of the woman-soul appears even in the

child. Little Japanese girls who play with insects or small animals
rarely hurt them, and generally set them free after they have afforded a
reasonable amount of amusement. Little boys are not nearly so good,
when out of sight of parents or guardians. But if seen doing anything
cruel, a child is made to feel ashamed of the act, and hears the Buddhist
warning, 'Thy future birth will be unhappy, if thou dost cruel things.'
Somewhere among the rocks in the pond lives a small tortoise--left in
the garden, probably, by the previous tenants of the house. It is very
pretty, but manages to remain invisible for weeks at a time. In popular
mythology, the tortoise is the servant of the divinity Kompira; [24] and
if