The Motor Maids in Fair Japan | Page 9

they do."
"I think tailor-fashion would be easier," answered the poor lady. "Don't
help me. They might take it for rudeness. Everything is bad manners in
this country."
Crossing her feet, she slid slowly to the floor. The visitors were
promptly served with delicious tea, rice cakes, candied fruits and other
confections molded and colored like the flowers in season.
Certainly that was one of the most silent and ceremonious tea parties
ever given. It was all dumb show, but the manners of the three Japanese
ladies were exquisite. While this excruciatingly polite scene transpired,
there raged such a storm of wind and rain that at each moment they
feared the fragile bamboo and rice paper abode would be blown from
its slight foundations.
"They won't lose much if it's blown away," thought Billie. "There's not

a stick of furniture to be seen except a screen."
In one corner of the room was a splendid vase almost as tall as she was,
and on the wall hung a scroll showing two women gathering cherry
blossoms. On the floor were soft mats fitted closely together.
Suddenly Billie blushed scarlet.
"Oh, Cousin Helen," she exclaimed. "We forgot to take off our shoes."
"Don't speak to me," answered her relation. "My legs have gone to
sleep and I have lost the power to move them. I am in an agony of
pain."
At this moment a figure darkened the doorway. The three Japanese
women rose and bowed low and the servants made obeisances. The five
Americans were amazed to recognize their friend of yesterday,
Yoritomo Ito. He was quite as amazed as they were, although he did
not show it except by the flick of an eyelash, because no well-bred
Japanese ever shows surprise.
"How do you do, Mr. Ito?" cried Miss Campbell. "Is it possible that this
is your house we have broken into so rudely?"
It was indeed Mr. Ito's home, and, the three ladies were his mother, his
aunt and his sister.
"It is a great pleasure, I am sure, that you have found refuge in my
home. I trust they have served you well."
Then he spoke rapidly in Japanese to his mother, who smiled and
clasped her hands with joy, as if heaven could not have bestowed a
greater gift than the privilege to entertain these delightful foreigners.
"And are you the head of the family, Mr. Ito?" asked Miss Campbell.
"No, my father takes first place. He is a tea merchant in Tokyo. I have
also a younger brother who works with him. He did not wish to go to
America with me."

At this moment a human doll baby toddled into the room. His round
little head was bald except for a thick mat of hair on top. His beady
black eyes gleamed like polished glass. He wore a dark red kimono and
his feet and legs were bare.
"Oh, the darling," cried Mary whose love of children overcame any
shyness she might feel before strangers. The three Japanese were
pleased at the attention the little person created. The girls gathered
around him in a circle while he stood perfectly still regarding them
curiously, as if they were some new strange birds which had dropped
into his room from the skies.
Yoritomo also was pleased. He took the little fellow's hand in his and
led him from one to another while his relatives stood in a beaming row.
Children are called "treasure-flowers" in Japan, and are petted and
spoiled quite as much as American children.
"What a cunning little baby brother, Mr. Ito," said Nancy. "What is his
name?"
"Kenkyo," answered Yoritomo. Suddenly he turned and spoke to one of
the women and the "treasure-flower" was led from the room.
"Oh, don't send him away," objected Miss Campbell. "I haven't had
half a chance to see him yet."
"He is not dressed to see distinguished visitors," answered Yoritomo,
quickly. "My mother would like to show you some of her embroidery if
you would care to see it."
So the subject of little Kenkyo was dropped and Madame Ito, hurrying
away, returned in a moment with an armful of linen and silk on which
she had worked the most wonderful floral designs.
In the meantime, the faithful 'riksha man, Komatsu, had trotted all the
way through floods of rain to the Campbell villa half a mile distant, and
now returned in company with O'Haru. Between them they carried a

covered basket containing five mackintoshes, five pairs of overshoes
and five umbrellas.
Komatsu was very angry with O'Haru. He explained to Miss Campbell:
"I not wish, but she coming without not wish."
He pointed accusingly at the sad old face. O'Haru, dripping and
imperturbable, stood on the piazza near the entrance to the villa.
"That was very good of you, O'Haru;