Japanese Memories | Page 5

wood five or six inches high, which give the wearer quite a tall
appearance. This man, who was above the ordinary height, wore a grey
wadded kimono, as is usual in cold weather. The wadding is made of
floss- silk for the general wearer, but in the case of a poor person a
cotton wadding is used, this being much cheaper, but very heavy. This
winter kimono is used for a long period and cannot be washed, which is
a great drawback, as it is very insanitary. According to a Japanese
custom among the lower classes, the man had tucked his arms away for
warmth under his kimono, the result being that his sleeves were
hanging empty. As he ran towards us they were shaking loosely up and
down, and to all appearances he was armless. I flew back, sickened by

the sight, to be well laughed at by my fellow passengers, who had lived
long in the country.
Another unique sight, and one which I never saw again, gave me a
further shock. Many children were playing round the temples, with
babies on their backs, as is the universal custom. One girl, however,
had tucked her little dog under her kimono, and was carrying it on her
back, just as if it were a baby, and as only the head could be seen, I
thought at first it was a deformity, and was much horrified. The babies
and children did not attract me on this first day; so many had sores on
their faces and hands, the cause being, as I afterwards learnt, the need
of food more nourishing than rice.
We reached Yokohama on February 17th, early in the morning, and
some friends called me up on deck to see Fujiyama, Japan's most
illustrious mountain. The sun shining on its snowclad slopes was a
wonderful and never-to-beforgotten sight. I remember how, as my heart
sank with loneliness and fear, the Psalm kept ringing in my head, " I
will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help " and
often did I need it. One of the Japanese passengers told me afterwards
that it was a good omen, when arriving, if the sun shone on this
mountain. That it certainly was so in my case is seen when I look back
upon the seven wonderful years I passed in Japan. In spite of the many
difficulties I had to encounter they proved wonderfully happy as a
whole, and were quite the most engrossing years I ever spent.
I now had to bid farewell to those under whose care I had been placed.
Lord Sandwich, who had been a fellow passenger on the boat, realized
in his kind-heartedness that my lot would be a lonely one, and I shall
always feel grateful to him for his sympathy and support during his stay
in Japan, where he made a tour of some months.
When the Kiatchou pulled up at the quay, I looked eagerly among the
spectators, wondering who among them had come to bid me welcome.
One of the passengers called my attention to two Japanese gentlemen,
saying that they had in all probability come to meet me. Their black
frock coats and bowler hats marked them as men of some importance,
and as I landed one of these gentlemen immediately handed me his card,

with his name, Mr. Hamada, printed in Japanese on one side and
English on the other. We shook hands and he addressed me in English,
but scarcely a word of it could I understand.
In this first experience, and for many months after, I found the English
usually spoken most difficult to understand. For one thing, all the "R's "
were pronounced as "L's." During the conversation with these
gentlemen I was interrupted by two coolies who brought me a note.
They wore dark blue kimonos, with a crest on their back, which
denoted that they belonged to a private family. They had, it appeared,
been sent by the British Consul to collect my luggage; and it was not
long before Mrs. Chalmers, the wife of the Acting Consul, very kindly
came to give me a welcome, and invited me to go straight to the
Consulate. But as I was informed that we had to leave for Tokio by an
early train, and as a luncheon was being given for me with the Princes
at twelvethirty, at which the First Secretary of the British Legation and
his wife were expected, I was unfortunately not able to accept her
hospitality.
I was hurried off in a jinricksha to the station, and upon reaching it was
given a first-class ticket to Tokio, which looked so absurdly English
with " available on day of issue only " printed on it, that I would fain
have