The Romance of the Milky Way | Page 3

late,
I read in bed that night. The clock struck one in the morning, but there
was a light in Hearn's study. I heard some low, hoarse coughing. I was
afraid my friend might be ill; so I stepped out of my room and went to
his study. Not wanting, however, to disturb him, if he was at work, I
cautiously opened the door just a little, and peeped in. I saw my friend
intent in writing at his high desk, with his nose almost touching the
paper. Leaf after leaf he wrote on. In a while he held up his head, and
what did I see! It was not the Hearn I was familiar with; it was another
Hearn. His face was mysteriously white; his large eye gleamed. He
appeared like one in touch with some unearthly presence.
"Within that homely looking man there burned something pure as the
vestal fire, and in that flame dwelt a mind that called forth life and
poetry out of dust, and grasped the highest themes of human thought."
F.G.

September, 1905.

THE ROMANCE, OF THE MILKY WAY
Of old it was said: 'The River of Heaven is the Ghost of Waters.' We
behold it shifting its bed in the course of the year as an earthly river
sometimes does.
Ancient Scholar
Among the many charming festivals celebrated by Old Japan, the most
romantic was the festival of Tanabata-Sama, the Weaving-Lady of the
Milky Way. In the chief cities her holiday is now little observed; and in
T[=o]ky[=o] it is almost forgotten. But in many country districts, and
even in villages, near the capital, it is still celebrated in a small way. If
you happen to visit an old-fashioned country town or village, on the
seventh day of the seventh month (by the ancient calendar), you will
probably notice many freshly-cut bamboos fixed upon the roofs of the
houses, or planted in the ground beside them, every bamboo having
attached to it a number of strips of colored paper. In some very poor
villages you might find that these papers are white, or of one color only;
but the general rule is that the papers should be of five or seven
different colors. Blue, green, red, yellow, and white are the tints
commonly displayed. All these papers are inscribed with short poems
written in praise of Tanabata and her husband Hikoboshi. After the
festival the bamboos are taken down and thrown into the nearest stream,
together with the poems attached to them.
* * * * *
To understand the romance of this old festival, you must know the
legend of those astral divinities to whom offerings used to be made,
even by, the Imperial Household, on the seventh day of the seventh
month. The legend is Chinese. This is the Japanese popular version of
it:--
The great god of the firmament had a lovely daughter, Tanabata-tsumé,

who passed her days in weaving garments for her august parent. She
rejoiced in her work, and thought that there was no greater pleasure
than the pleasure of weaving. But one day, as she sat before her loom at
the door of her heavenly dwelling, she saw a handsome peasant lad
pass by, leading an ox, and she fell in love with him. Her august father,
divining her secret wish, gave her the youth for a husband. But the
wedded lovers became too fond of each other, and neglected their duty
to the god of the firmament; the sound of the shuttle was no longer
heard, and the ox wandered, unheeded, over the plains of heaven.
Therefore the great god was displeased, and he separated the pair. They
were sentenced to live thereafter apart, with the Celestial River between
them; but it was permitted them to see each other once a year, on the
seventh night of the seventh moon. On that night--providing the skies
be clear--the birds of heaven make, with their bodies and wings, a
bridge over the stream; and by means of that bridge the lovers can meet.
But if there be rain, the River of Heaven rises, and becomes so wide
that the bridge cannot be formed. So the husband and wife cannot
always meet, even on the seventh night of the seventh month; it may
happen, by reason of bad weather, that they cannot meet for three or
four years at a time. But their love remains immortally young and
eternally patient; and they continue to fulfill their respective duties each
day without fault,--happy in their hope of being able to meet on the
seventh night of the next seventh month.
* * * * *
To ancient Chinese fancy, the Milky Way was a luminous river,--the
River of Heaven,--the Silver Stream. It has been stated by Western
writers that Tanabata, the