Japanese Memories | Page 6

kept it and not given it up at my journey's end.
The railway carriage resembled the inside of a tram, with two long
seats for twelve persons on each side, and three at the top, in one of
which I sat alone, with Mr. Hamada on my left hand. Three long tins
covered with cloths or towels were in the carriage as foot- warmers. We
exchanged occasional remarks during the journey, but the conversation
was a great strain, as I could hardly understand a word said to me. We
had one other English or American fellow traveller, to whom Mr.
Hamada spoke, and later on two Japanese gentlemen came in. I was
bewildered by the constant taking-off of hats, for, not merely on
entering and leaving the carriage, but all through the conversation,
these gentlemen continually raised themselves and their head-gear.
Subsequent experience taught me that the object of a polite Japanese is
to be the last to bow: hence the repetition of salutations and the

constant taking-off of hats.
The names of the stations were marked up in Japanese characters and in
English. The scenery struck me as being not beautiful; rice was the
chief production, growing in what looked from a distance like mud or
standing water one or two inches deep. Afterwards I got accustomed to
these endless rice-fields and loved to see the little hut which was often
placed in the middle of fields amongst masses of growing rice. It was a
shrine in which the God of Rice could be worshipped, and an image of
him seemed to be placed in every temple.
On our arrival at Tokio a carriage met us with another gentleman, who
gave his card and proved to be a resident tutor. The carriage was most
elaborate, the coachman's livery being decked with gold braid and a
crest on his buttons. The footman was a great surprise, and for the first
time I grasped the derivation of the word, as literally " a man who runs
by the side." He was dressed in a blue tunic with a sun-hat, and had the
arms of the house on his back. He was a wonderful runner, going on
ahead to pick up any babies in the road, or to clear a blind man out of
the way, and occasionally uttering shrill yells as he ran, to warn any
obstructing rickshas.
Small-pox was a frequent cause of blindness in the early days before
vaccination. Old blind men and women are constantly met with on the
roads. These blind folk, however, are put to a very useful occupation.
They make splendid masseurs, and are found in most inns and hotels,
ready to massage stiff limbs after mountainous climbs or long walks.
Their touch is extraordinarily soft, and almost magical for easing pain.
On reaching the house, I noticed that there were several small
dwellings adjoining it, and these I learned were inhabited by the
attendants. The house itself was an unattractive construction of dark red
wood, with a wooden verandah over the entrance. It was situated near
the German Legation, and about a quarter of an hour's walk from the
British Legation.
When the door was opened, the first person to greet me was Mrs.
Whitehead, whom I had known in the Embassy in Berlin, and who was

in deep mourning for our beloved Queen Victoria. Standing step-wise
behind her were my young charges, four little boys, clad in black suits
piped with red, like an English postman's uniform, the regulation dress
for the younger boys at the Nobles' School, which they attended.
Several gentlemen were also standing in the background, beside a
youth who looked about fourteen years old, and was dressed in a dark
blue uniform, with two little gold cherry-blossom petals on his collar.
This was the Prince, who shook hands with me, after which Mr.
Nagasaki, one of the Masters of the Ceremonies at the Emperor's Court,
came forward and introduced me to the various gentlemen, the chief
being a guardian uncle, who could not speak a word of English, and
who looked very disapprovingly at me. Then the four little brothers
came up to me; and their bright, attractive faces not only welcomed me
but soothed my home-sick heart, and I felt thankful to have them near
me.
Mrs. Whitehead then took me upstairs to my bedroom, which had been
carefully furnished for me. She told me how anxious the family were
that I should be happy and comfortable. The room was a large one, with
a Brussels carpet, a nice writing-desk, and various bits of furniture. A
little matted room led out of it, occupied by the amah, or maid. The
amah, Koma by name, had been especially chosen for my service,
because she could speak English; but on the very