Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan: First Series — Ch 15: Kitsune, Part 2

As soon as the possessed has been freed from the possessor, he falls down senseless, and remains for a long time prostrate.

And it is said, also, that he who has once been possessed by a fox will never again be able to eat tofu, aburage, azukimeshi, or any of those things which foxes like.

Sec.

7 It is believed that the Man-fox (Hito-kitsune) cannot be seen.

But if he goes close to still water, his SHADOW can be seen in the water.

Those 'having foxes' are therefore supposed to avoid the vicinity of rivers and ponds.

The invisible fox, as already stated, attaches himself to persons.

Like a Japanese servant, he belongs to the household.

But if a daughter of that household marry, the fox not only goes to that new family, following the bride, but also colonises his kind in all those families related by marriage or kinship with the husband's family.

Now every fox is supposed to have a family of seventy-five--neither more, nor less than seventy-five--and all these must be fed.

So that although such foxes, like ghosts, eat very little individually, it is expensive to have foxes.

The fox-possessors (kitsune-mochi) must feed their foxes at regular hours; and the foxes always eat first--all the seventy-five.

As soon as the family rice is cooked in the kama (a great iron cooking-pot), the kitsune-mochi taps loudly on the side of the vessel, and uncovers it.

Then the foxes rise up through the floor.

And although their eating is soundless to human ear and invisible to human eye, the rice slowly diminishes.

Wherefore it is fearful for a poor man to have foxes.

But the cost of nourishing foxes is the least evil connected with the keeping of them.

Foxes have no fixed code of ethics, and have proved themselves untrustworthy servants.

They may initiate and long maintain the prosperity of some family; but should some grave misfortune fall upon that family in spite of the efforts of its seventy-five invisible retainers, then these will suddenly flee away, taking all the valuables of the household along with them.

And all the fine gifts that foxes bring to their masters are things which have been stolen from somebody else.

It is therefore extremely immoral to keep foxes.

It is also dangerous for the public peace, inasmuch as a fox, being a goblin, and devoid of human susceptibilities, will not take certain precautions.

He may steal the next-door neighbour's purse by night and lay it at his own master's threshold, so that if the next-door neighbour happens to get up first and see it there is sure to be a row.

Another evil habit of foxes is that of making public what they hear said in private, and taking it upon themselves to create undesirable scandal.

For example, a fox attached to the family of Kobayashi-San hears his master complain about his neighbour Nakayama-San, whom he secretly dislikes.

Therewith the zealous retainer runs to the house of Nakayama-San, and enters into his body, and torments him grievously, saying: 'I am the retainer of Kobayashi-San to whom you did such-and-such a wrong; and until such time as he command me to depart, I shall continue to torment you.'

And last, but worst of all the risks of possessing foxes, is the danger that they may become wroth with some member of the family.

Certainly a fox may be a good friend, and make rich the home in which he is domiciled.

But as he is not human, and as his motives and feelings are not those of men, but of goblins, it is difficult to avoid incurring his displeasure.

At the most unexpected moment he may take offence without any cause knowingly having been given, and there is no saying what the consequences may be.

For the fox possesses Instinctive Infinite Vision--and the Ten-Ni-Tsun, or All-Hearing Ear--and the Ta-Shin-Tsun, which is the Knowledge of the Most Secret Thoughts of Others--and Shiyuku-Mei-Tsun, which is the Knowledge of the Past--and Zhin-Kiyan-Tsun, which means the Knowledge of the Universal Present--and also the Powers of Transformation and of Transmutation.

[12] So that even without including his special powers of bewitchment, he is by nature a being almost omnipotent for evil.

Sec.

8 For all these reasons, and, doubtless many more, people believed to have foxes are shunned.

Intermarriage with a fox-possessing family is out of the question; and many a beautiful and accomplished girl in Izumo cannot secure a husband because of the popular belief that her family harbours foxes.

As a rule, Izumo girls do not like to marry out of their own province; but the daughters of a kitsune-mochi must either marry into the family of another kitsune-mochi, or find a husband far away from the Province of the Gods.

Rich fox-possessing families have not overmuch difficulty in disposing of their daughters by one of the means above indicated; but many a fine sweet girl of the poorer kitsune-mochi is condemned by superstition to remain unwedded.

It is not because there are none to love her and desirous of marrying her--young men who have passed through public schools and who do not believe in foxes.

It is because popular superstition cannot be yet safely defied in country districts except by the wealthy.

The consequences of such defiance would have to be borne, not merely by the husband, but by his whole family, and by all other families related thereunto.

Which are consequences to be thought about!

Among men believed to have foxes there are some who know how to turn the superstition to good account.

The country-folk, as a general rule, are afraid of giving offence to a kitsune-mochi, lest he should send some of his invisible servants to take possession of them.

Accordingly, certain kitsune-mochi have obtained great ascendancy over the communities in which they live.

In the town of Yonago, for example, there is a certain prosperous chonin whose will is almost law, and whose opinions are never opposed.

He is practically the ruler of the place, and in a fair way of becoming a very wealthy man.

All because he is thought to have foxes.

Wrestlers, as a class, boast of their immunity from fox-possession, and care neither for kitsune-mochi nor for their spectral friends.

Very strong men are believed to be proof against all such goblinry.

Foxes are said to be afraid of them, and instances are cited of a possessing fox declaring: 'I wished to enter into your brother, but he was too strong for me; so I have entered into you, as I am resolved to be revenged upon some one of your family.'

Sec.

9 Now the belief in foxes does not affect persons only: it affects property.

It affects the value of real estate in Izumo to the amount of hundreds of thousands.

The land of a family supposed to have foxes cannot be sold at a fair price.

People are afraid to buy it; for it is believed the foxes may ruin the new proprietor.

The difficulty of obtaining a purchaser is most great in the case of land terraced for rice-fields, in the mountain districts.

The prime necessity of such agriculture is irrigation--irrigation by a hundred ingenious devices, always in the face of difficulties.

There are seasons when water becomes terribly scarce, and when the peasants will even fight for water.

It is feared that on lands haunted by foxes, the foxes may turn the water away from one field into another, or, for spite, make holes in the dikes and so destroy the crop.

There are not wanting shrewd men to take advantage of this queer belief.

One gentleman of Matsue, a good agriculturist of the modern school, speculated in the fox-terror fifteen years ago, and purchased a vast tract of land in eastern Izumo which no one else would bid for.

That land has sextupled in value, besides yielding generously under his system of cultivation; and by selling it now he could realise an immense fortune.

His success, and the fact of his having been an official of the government, broke the spell: it is no longer believed that his farms are fox-haunted.

But success alone could not have freed the soil from the curse of the superstition.

The power of the farmer to banish the foxes was due to his official character.

With the peasantry, the word 'Government' is talismanic.

Indeed, the richest and the most successful farmer of Izumo, worth more than a hundred thousand yen--Wakuri-San of Chinomiya in Kandegori--is almost universally believed by the peasantry to be a kitsune-mochi.

They tell curious stories about him.

Some say that when a very poor man he found in the woods one day a little white fox-cub, and took it home, and petted it, and gave it plenty of tofu, azukimeshi, and aburage--three sorts of food which foxes love--and that from that day prosperity came to him.

Others say that in his house there is a special zashiki, or guest-room for foxes; and that there, once in each month, a great banquet is given to hundreds of Hito-kitsune.

But Chinomiya-no-Wakuri, as they call him, can afford to laugh at all these tales.

He is a refined man, highly respected in cultivated circles where superstition never enters.

Sec.

10 When a Ninko comes to your house at night and knocks, there is a peculiar muffled sound about the knocking by which you can tell that the visitor is a fox--if you have experienced ears.

For a fox knocks at doors with its tail.

If you open, then you will see a man, or perhaps a beautiful girl, who will talk to you only in fragments of words, but nevertheless in such a way that you can perfectly well understand.

A fox cannot pronounce a whole word, but a part only--as 'Nish...

Sa...'

for 'Nishida-San'; 'degoz...'

for 'degozarimasu, or 'uch...

de...?'

for 'uchi desuka?'

Then, if you are a friend of foxes, the visitor will present you with a little gift of some sort, and at once vanish away into the darkness.

Whatever the gift may be, it will seem much larger that night than in the morning.

Only a part of a fox-gift is real.

A Matsue shizoku, going home one night by way of the street called Horomachi, saw a fox running for its life pursued by dogs.

He beat the dogs off with his umbrella, thus giving the fox a chance to escape.

On the following evening he heard some one knock at his door, and on opening the to saw a very pretty girl standing there, who said to him: 'Last night I should have died but for your august kindness.

I know not how to thank you enough: this is only a pitiable little present.

And she laid a small bundle at his feet and went away.

He opened the bundle and found two beautiful ducks and two pieces of silver money--those long, heavy, leaf-shaped pieces of money--each worth ten or twelve dollars--such as are now eagerly sought for by collectors of antique things.

After a little while, one of the coins changed before his eyes into a piece of grass; the other was always good.

Sugitean-San, a physician of Matsue, was called one evening to attend a case of confinement at a house some distance from the city, on the hill called Shiragayama.

He was guided by a servant carrying a paper lantern painted with an aristocratic crest.

[13] He entered into a magnificent house, where he was received with superb samurai courtesy.

The mother was safely delivered of a fine boy.

The family treated the physician to an excellent dinner, entertained him elegantly, and sent him home, loaded with presents and money.

Next day he went, according to Japanese etiquette, to return thanks to his hosts.

He could not find the house: there was, in fact, nothing on Shiragayama except forest.

Returning home, he examined again the gold which had been paid to him.

All was good except one piece, which had changed into grass.

Sec.

11 Curious advantages have been taken of the superstitions relating to the Fox-God.

In Matsue, several years ago, there was a tofuya which enjoyed an unusually large patronage.

A tofuya is a shop where tofu is sold--a curd prepared from beans, and much resembling good custard in appearance.

Of all eatable things, foxes are most fond of tofu and of soba, which is a preparation of buckwheat.

There is even a legend that a fox, in the semblance of an elegantly attired man, once visited Nogi-no-Kuriharaya, a popular sobaya on the lake shore, and ate much soba.

But after the guest was gone, the money he had paid changed into wooden shavings.

The proprietor of the tofuya had a different experience.

A man in wretched attire used to come to his shop every evening to buy a cho of tofu, which he devoured on the spot with the haste of one long famished.

Every evening for weeks he came, and never spoke; but the landlord saw one evening the tip of a bushy white tail protruding from beneath the stranger's rags.

The sight aroused strange surmises and weird hopes.

From that night he began to treat the mysterious visitor with obsequious kindness.

But another month passed before the latter spoke.

Then what he said was about as follows: 'Though I seem to you a man, I am not a man; and I took upon myself human form only for the purpose of visiting you.

I come from Taka-machi, where my temple is, at which you often visit.

And being desirous to reward your piety and goodness of heart, I have come to-night to save you from a great danger.

For by the power which I possess I know that tomorrow this street will burn, and all the houses in it shall be utterly destroyed except yours.

To save it I am going to make a charm.

But in order that I may do this, you must open your go-down (kura) that I may enter, and allow no one to watch me; for should living eye look upon me there, the charm will not avail.'

The shopkeeper, with fervent words of gratitude, opened his storehouse, and reverently admitted the seeming Inari and gave orders that none of his household or servants should keep watch.

And these orders were so well obeyed that all the stores within the storehouse, and all the valuables of the family, were removed without hindrance during the night.

Next day the kura was found to be empty.

And there was no fire.

There is also a well-authenticated story about another wealthy shopkeeper of Matsue who easily became the prey of another pretended Inari.

This Inari told him that whatever sum of money he should leave at a certain miya by night, he would find it doubled in the morning--as the reward of his lifelong piety.

The shopkeeper carried several small sums to the miya, and found them doubled within twelve hours.

Then he deposited larger sums, which were similarly multiplied; he even risked some hundreds of dollars, which were duplicated.

Finally he took all his money out of the bank and placed it one evening within the shrine of the god--and never saw it again.

Sec.

12 Vast is the literature of the subject of foxes--ghostly foxes.

Some of it is old as the eleventh century.

In the ancient romances and the modern cheap novel, in historical traditions and in popular fairy-tales, foxes perform wonderful parts.

There are very beautiful and very sad and very terrible stories about foxes.

There are legends of foxes discussed by great scholars, and legends of foxes known to every child in Japan--such as the history of Tamamonomae, the beautiful favourite of the Emperor Toba--Tamamonomae, whose name has passed into a proverb, and who proved at last to be only a demon fox with Nine Tails and Fur of Gold.

But the most interesting part of fox-literature belongs to the Japanese stage, where the popular beliefs are often most humorously reflected--as in the following excerpts from the comedy of Hiza-Kuruge, written by one Jippensha Ikku: [Kidahachi and Iyaji are travelling from Yedo to Osaka.

When within a short distance of Akasaka, Kidahachi hastens on in advance to secure good accommodations at the best inn.

Iyaji, travelling along leisurely, stops a little while at a small wayside refreshment-house kept by an old woman] OLD WOMAN.

--Please take some tea, sir.

IYAJI.

--Thank you!

How far is it from here to the next town?

--Akasaka?

OLD WOMAN.

--About one ri.

But if you have no companion, you had better remain here to-night, because there is a bad fox on the way, who bewitches travellers.

IYAJI.

--I am afraid of that sort of thing.

But I must go on; for my companion has gone on ahead of me, and will be waiting for me.

[After having paid for his refreshments, Iyaji proceeds on his way.

The night is very dark, and he feels quite nervous on account of what the old woman has told him.

After having walked a considerable distance, he suddenly hears a fox yelping--kon-kon.

Feeling still more afraid, he shouts at the top of his voice:] IYAJI.

--Come near me, and I will kill you!

[Meanwhile Kidahachi, who has also been frightened by the old woman's stories, and has therefore determined to wait for Iyaji, is saying to himself in the dark: 'If I do not wait for him, we shall certainly be deluded.'

Suddenly he hears Iyaji's voice, and cries out to him:] KIDAHACHI.

--O Iyaji-San!

IYAJI.

--What are you doing there?

KIDAHACHI.

--I

did intend to go on ahead; but I became afraid, and so I concluded to stop here and wait for you.

IYAJI (who imagines that the fox has taken the shape of Kidahachi to deceive him).

--Do not think that you are going to dupe me!

KIDAHACHI.

--That is a queer way to talk!

I have some nice mochi [14] here which I bought for you.

IYAJI.

--Horse-dung cannot be eaten!

[15] KIDAHACHI.

--Don't be suspicious!

--I am really Kidahachi.

IYAJI (springing upon him furiously).

--Yes!

you took the form of Kidahachi just to deceive me!

KIDAHACHI.

--What do you mean?

--What are you going to do to me?

IYAJI.

--I am going to kill you!

(Throws him down.

) KIDAHACHI.

--Oh!

you have hurt me very much--please leave me alone!

IYAJI.

--If you are really hurt, then let me see you in your real shape!

(They struggle together.

) KIDAHACHI.

--What are you doing?

--putting your hand there?

IYAJI.

--I am feeling for your tail.

If you don't put out your tail at once, I shall make you!

(Takes his towel, and with it ties Kidahachi's hands behind his back, and then drives him before him.

) KIDAHACHI.

--Please untie me--please untie me first!

[By this time they have almost reached Akasaka, and Iyaji, seeing a dog, calls the animal, and drags Kidahachi close to it; for a dog is believed to be able to detect a fox through any disguise.

But the dog takes no notice of Kidahachi.

Iyaji therefore unties him, and apologises; and they both laugh at their previous fears.

] Sec.

13 But there are some very pleasing forms of the Fox-God.

For example, there stands in a very obscure street of Matsue--one of those streets no stranger is likely to enter unless he loses his way--a temple called Jigyoba-no-Inari, [16] and also Kodomo-no-Inari, or 'the Children's Inari.'

It is very small, but very famous; and it has been recently presented with a pair of new stone foxes, very large, which have gilded teeth and a peculiarly playful expression of countenance.

These sit one on each side of the gate: the Male grinning with open jaws, the Female demure, with mouth closed.

[17] In the court you will find many ancient little foxes with noses, heads, or tails broken, two great Karashishi before which straw sandals (waraji) have been suspended as votive offerings by somebody with sore feet who has prayed to the Karashishi-Sama that they will heal his affliction, and a shrine of Kojin, occupied by the corpses of many children's dolls.

[18] The grated doors of the shrine of Jigyoba-no-Inari, like those of the shrine of Yaegaki, are white with the multitude of little papers tied to them, which papers signify prayers.

But the prayers are special and curious.

To right and to left of the doors, and also above them, odd little votive pictures are pasted upon the walls, mostly representing children in bath-tubs, or children getting their heads shaved.

There are also one or two representing children at play.

Now the interpretation of these signs and wonders is as follows: Doubtless you know that Japanese children, as well as Japanese adults, must take a hot bath every day; also that it is the custom to shave the heads of very small boys and girls.

But in spite of hereditary patience and strong ancestral tendency to follow ancient custom, young children find both the razor and the hot bath difficult to endure, with their delicate skins.

For the Japanese hot bath is very hot (not less than 110 degs F. , as a general rule), and even the adult foreigner must learn slowly to bear it, and to appreciate its hygienic value.

Also, the Japanese razor is a much less perfect instrument than ours, and is used without any lather, and is apt to hurt a little unless used by the most skilful hands.

And finally, Japanese parents are not tyrannical with their children: they pet and coax, very rarely compel or terrify.

So that it is quite a dilemma for them when the baby revolts against the bath or mutinies against the razor.

The parents of the child who refuses to be shaved or bathed have recourse to Jigyoba-no-Inati.

The god is besought to send one of his retainers to amuse the child, and reconcile it to the new order of things, and render it both docile and happy.

Also if a child is naughty, or falls sick, this Inari is appealed to.

If the prayer be granted, some small present is made to the temple--sometimes a votive picture, such as those pasted by the door, representing the successful result of the petition.

To judge by the number of such pictures, and by the prosperity of the temple, the Kodomo-no-Inani would seem to deserve his popularity.

Even during the few minutes I passed in his court I saw three young mothers, with infants at their backs, come to the shrine and pray and make offerings.

I noticed that one of the children--remarkably pretty--had never been shaved at all.

This was evidently a very obstinate case.

While returning from my visit to the Jigyoba Inani, my Japanese servant, who had guided me there, told me this story: The son of his next-door neighbour, a boy of seven, went out to play one morning, and disappeared for two days.

The parents were not at first uneasy, supposing that the child had gone to the house of a relative, where he was accustomed to pass a day or two from time to time.

But on the evening of the second day it was learned that the child had not been at the house in question.

Search was at once made; but neither search nor inquiry availed.

Late at night, however, a knock was heard at the door of the boy's dwelling, and the mother, hurrying out, found her truant fast asleep on the ground.

She could not discover who had knocked.

The boy, upon being awakened, laughed, and said that on the morning of his disappearance he had met a lad of about his own age, with very pretty eyes, who had coaxed him away to the woods, where they had played together all day and night and the next day at very curious funny games.

But at last he got sleepy, and his comrade took him home.

He was not hungry.

The comrade promised 'to come to-morrow.'

But the mysterious comrade never came; and no boy of the description given lived in the neighbourhood.

The inference was that the comrade was a fox who wanted to have a little fun.

The subject of the fun mourned long in vain for his merry companion.

Sec.

14 Some thirty years ago there lived in Matsue an ex-wrestler named Tobikawa, who was a relentless enemy of foxes and used to hunt and kill them.

He was popularly believed to enjoy immunity from bewitchment because of his immense strength; but there were some old folks who predicted that he would not die a natural death.

This prediction was fulfilled: Tobikawa died in a very curious manner.

He was excessively fond of practical jokes.

One day he disguised himself as a Tengu, or sacred goblin, with wings and claws and long nose, and ascended a lofty tree in a sacred grove near Rakusan, whither, after a little while, the innocent peasants thronged to worship him with offerings.

While diverting himself with this spectacle, and trying to play his part by springing nimbly from one branch to another, he missed his footing and broke his neck in the fall.

Sec.

15 But these strange beliefs are swiftly passing away.

Year by year more shrines of Inari crumble down, never to be rebuilt.

Year by year the statuaries make fewer images of foxes.

Year by year fewer victims of fox-possession are taken to the hospitals to be treated according to the best scientific methods by Japanese physicians who speak German.

The cause is not to be found in the decadence of the old faiths: a superstition outlives a religion.

Much less is it to be sought for in the efforts of proselytising missionaries from the West--most of whom profess an earnest belief in devils.

It is purely educational.

The omnipotent enemy of superstition is the public school, where the teaching of modern science is unclogged by sectarianism or prejudice;

where the children of the poorest may learn the wisdom of the Occident;

where there is not a boy or a girl of fourteen ignorant of the great names of Tyndall, of Darwin, of Huxley, of Herbert Spencer.

The little hands that break the Fox-god's nose in mischievous play can also write essays upon the evolution of plants and about the geology of Izumo.

There is no place for ghostly foxes in the beautiful nature-world revealed by new studies to the new generation The omnipotent exorciser and reformer is the Kodomo.

NOTES

Note for preface 1 In striking contrast to this indifference is the strong, rational, far-seeing conservatism of Viscount Torio--a noble exception.

Notes for Chapter One 1 I do not think this explanation is correct; but it is interesting, as the first which I obtained upon the subject.

Properly speaking, Buddhist worshippers should not clap their hands, but only rub them softly together.

Shinto worshippers always clap their hands four times.

2 Various writers, following the opinion of the Japanologue Satow, have stated that the torii was originally a bird-perch for fowls offered up to the gods at Shinto shrines--'not as food, but to give warning of daybreak.'

The etymology of the word is said to be 'bird-rest' by some authorities; but Aston, not less of an authority, derives it from words which would give simply the meaning of a gateway.

See Chamberlain's Things Japanese, pp. 429, 430. 3 Professor Basil Hall Chamberlain has held the extraordinary position of Professor of Japanese in the Imperial University of Japan--no small honour to English philology!

4 These Ni-O, however, the first I saw in Japan, were very clumsy figures.

There are magnificent Ni-O to be seen in some of the great temple gateways in Tokyo, Kyoto, and elsewhere.

The grandest of all are those in the Ni-O Mon, or 'Two Kings' Gate,' of the huge Todaiji temple at Nara.

They are eight hundred years old.

It is impossible not to admire the conception of stormy dignity and hurricane-force embodied in those colossal figures.

Prayers are addressed to the Ni-O, especially by pilgrims.

Most of their statues are disfigured by little pellets of white paper, which people chew into a pulp and then spit at them.

There is a curious superstition that if the pellet sticks to the statue the prayer is heard; if, on the other hand, it falls to the ground, the prayer will not be answered.

Note for Chapter Two 1 Dainagon, the title of a high officer in the ancient Imperial Court.

Notes for Chapter Three 1 Derived from the Sanscrit stupa.

2 'The real origin of the custom of piling stones before the images of Jizo and other divinities is not now known to the people.

The custom is founded upon a passage in the famous Sutra, "The Lotus of the Good Law."

'Even the little hoys who, in playing, erected here and there heaps of sand, with the intention of dedicating them as Stupas to the Ginas,-they have all of them reached enlightenment.'

--Saddharma Pundarika, c. II.

v.

81 (Kern's translation), 'Sacred Books of the East,' vol. xxi.

3 The original Jizo has been identified by Orientalists with the Sanscrit Kshitegarbha; as Professor Chamberlain observes, the resemblance in sound between the names Jizo and Jesus 'is quite fortuitous.'

But in Japan Jizo has become totally transformed: he may justly be called the most Japanese of all Japanese divinities.

According to the curious old Buddhist book, Sai no Kawara Kuchi zu sams no den, the whole Sai-no-Kawara legend originated in Japan, and was first written by the priest Kuya Shonin, in the sixth year of the period called Ten-Kei, in the reign of the Emperor Shuyaku, who died in the year 946. To Kuya was revealed, in the village of Sai-in, near Kyoto, during a night passed by the dry bed of the neighbouring river, Sai-no-Kawa (said to be the modern Serikawa), the condition of child-souls in the Meido.

(Such is the legend in the book; but Professor Chamberlain has shown that the name Sai-no-Kawara, as now written, signifies 'The Dry Bed of the River of Souls,' and modern Japanese faith places that river in the Meido.

) Whatever be the true history of the myth, it is certainly Japanese; and the conception of Jizo as the lover and playfellow of dead children belongs to Japan.

There are many other popular forms of Jizo, one of the most common being that Koyasu-Jizo to whom pregnant women pray.

There are but few roads in Japan upon which statues of Jizo may not be seen; for he is also the patron of pilgrims.

4 Except those who have never married.

5 In Sanscrit, 'Yama-Raja.'

But the Indian conception has been totally transformed by Japanese Buddhism.

6 Funeral customs, as well as the beliefs connected with them, vary considerably in different parts of Japan.

Those of the eastern provinces differ from those of the western and southern.

The old practice of placing articles of value in the coffin--such as the metal mirror formerly buried with a woman, or the sword buried with a man of the Samurai caste--has become almost obsolete.

But the custom of putting money in the coffin still prevails: in Izumo the amount is always six rin, and these are called Rokudo-kane, or 'The Money for the Six Roads.'

7 Literally 'Western Capital,'--modern name of Kyoto, ancient residence of the emperors.

The name 'Tokyo,' on the other hand, signifies 'Eastern Capital.'

8 These first ten lines of the original will illustrate the measure of the wasan: Kore wa konoyo no koto narazu, Shide no yamaji no suso no naru, Sai-no-Kawara no monogatari Kiku ni tsuketemo aware nari Futatsu-ya, mitsu-ya, yotsu, itsutsu, To nimo taranu midorigo ga Sai-no-Kawara ni atsumari te, Chichi koishi!

haha koishi!

Koishi!

koishi!