 An Andalusian Duel by Seraphan Estebanes Calderon Through the little square of St. Anna towards a certain tavern where the best wine is to be quaffed and civill, there walked in measured steps two men whose demeanor clearly manifested the soil which gave them birth, he who walked in the middle of the street, taller than the other by about a finger's length, and sported with affected carelessness the wide slouched hat of Esia with tassels of glass beads and ribbon as black as his sins. He wore a cloak gathered under his left arm, the right emerging from a turquoise lining exposed the merino lambskin with silver clasps. The herdsmen's boots, white with Turkish buttons, the breeches gleaming red from below the cloak and covering the knee, and above all his strong and robust appearance, dark curly hair and eye like a red-hot coal, proclaimed at a distance that all this combination belonged to one of those men who put an end to horses between their knees and tire out the bull with their lance. He walked on, arguing with his companion who was rather spare than prodigal in his person, but marvelously live and supple. The latter was shod with low shoes, garters united the stockings to the light blue breeches, the waistcoat was cane-colored, his sash light green, and jaunty shoulder knots, lapets, and rows of buttons ornamented the carmelite jacket. The open cloak, the hat drawn over his ear, his short clean steps, and the manifestations in all his limbs and movements of agility and elasticity beyond trial, plainly showed that in the arena, carmine cloth in hand, he would mock at the most frenzied of Yoramah bulls, or the best horned beasts from Yutrera. I, who adore and die for such people, though the compliment, be not returned, went slowly in the wake of their worships, and unable to restrain myself, entered with them the same tavern, or rather eating-house, since there they serve certain provocatives as well as wine, and I, as my readers perceive, love to call things by their right name. I entered and sat down at once, and in such a manner as not to interrupt Oliver and Roland, and that they might not notice me, when I saw that, as if believing themselves alone, they threw their arms with an amicable gesture round each other's neck, and thus began their discourse. Popet, said the taller, now that we are going to meet each other, knife in hand, you hear I there, one, two, on your guard, tristrasse, have that, take this, and call it what you like, let us first drain a tankard to the music and measure of some songs. Señor Bobella, replied Popet, drawing his face aside and spitting with the greatest neatness and polteritude toward his shoe, I am not the kind of man either for La Gorja, or other similar earthly matters, or because a still tongue is sheathed in my body, or my weasened slit, or for any other such trifle, to be provoked, or vexed with such a friend as Balbeja. Let the wine be brought, and then we will sing, and afterwards, blood, to the hilt. The order was given. They clinked glasses, and, looking one at the other, sang a civilian song. This done, they threw off their cloaks with an easy grace, and unsheathed their knives, with which to prick one another, the one Flemish with a white haft, the other, from Gwadig, with a guard to the hilt, both blades dazzling in the brightness, and sharpened and groundy enough for operating upon cataracts, much less ripping up bellies and bowels. The two had already cleft the air several times with the said lancets, their cloak wound round their left arm, first drawing closer, then back, now more boldly, and in bounds, when Popeté hoisted the flag for Parley, and said, Balbeja, my friend, I only beg you to do me the favour, not to fan my face with Jolon, your knife. Since a slash might use it so ill that my mother, who bore me, would not know me, and I should not like to be considered ugly, neither is it right to mar and destroy what God made in his likeness. A greet replied Balbeja, I will aim lower. Except, except my stomach also, for I was ever a friend to cleanliness, and I should not like to see myself fouled in a bad way, if your knife and arm played havoc with my liver and intestines. I will strike higher, but let us go on. Take care of my chest, it was always weak. Then just tell me, friend, where am I to sound or tap you? My dear Balbeja, there's always plenty of time and space to hack at a man, I have here on my left arm a win, of which you can make meat as much as you like. Here goes for it, said Balbeja, and he hurled himself like an arrow, the other warded off the thrust with his cloak, and both, like skillful penmen, began again tracing esses and signatures in the air with dashes and flourishes without, however, raising a particle of skin. I do not know what would have been the end of this onslaught since my venerable, dry and shriveled person was not suitable for forming a point of exclamation between two combatants, and the tavernkeeper troubled so little about what was happening that he drowned the stamping of their feet and clutter of the tumbling stools and utensils by scraping street music on a guitar as loud as he could, otherwise he was as calm as if he were entertaining two angels instead of two devils incarnate. I do not know, I repeat, how this scene would have ended when there crossed the threshold a parsonage who came to take a part in the development of the drama. Here entered, I say, a woman of twenty to twenty-two years of age, diminutive in body, superlative in audacity and grace, neat and clean hose, and shoes, short black flounced petticoat, a linked girdle, headdress, or mantilla, a fringed taffeta, caught together at the nape of her neck, and a corner of it over her shoulder. She passed before my eyes with swaying hips, arms akimbo, and moving her head to and fro, as she looked about her on all sides. Upon seeing her, the tavernkeeper dropped his instrument, and I was overtaken by pertubation, such as I had not experienced for thirty years. I am, after all, only flesh and blood. But without halting for such lay figures, she advanced to the field of battle. There was a lively to-do here. Don Popete and Don Barbeja, when they saw Don Jo Gorja appear, first cause of the disturbance and future prize for the victor, increased their faints, flourishes, curverts, onsets, crouching, and bounds, all, however, without touching a hair. Our Helen witnessed in silence for a long time this scene in history, with that feminine pleasure which the daughters of Eve enjoyed at such critical moments. But gradually her pretty brow clouded over, until, drawing from her delicate ear, not a flower or earring, but the stump of a cigar, she hurled it amidst the jousters. Not even Charles V's cane, in the last duel in Spain, produced such favorable effects. Both came forward immediately with formal respect, and each, by reason of the discomposure of his person and clothes, presumed to urge a title, by which to recommend himself to the fair with the flounces. She, as though pensive, was going over the passage of arms in her mind, and then, with firm and confident resolution, spoke thus. And is this affair for me, who else should it be for, since I, since nobody, they replied in the same breath. "'Listen, gentlemen,' said she, for females such as I, and my parts, of my charms and descent, daughter of La Catoosa, niece of La Mendes, and the granddaughter of La Astrosa, know that there are neither pacts nor compacts, nor any such futile things, nor are any of them worth a farthing. And when men challenge each other, let the knife do its work, and the red blood flow, so as not to have my mother's daughter present without giving her the pleasure of snapping her fingers in the face of the other. If you pretend you are fighting for me, it's a lie, you are wholly mistaken, and that not by halves. I love neither of you. Mingalarios of Zafran is to my taste, and he and I look upon you with scorn and contempt. Good-bye, my braves, and, if you like, call my man to account.' She spoke spat, smoothed the saliva with a point of her shoe, looking popete and Balbeja, full in the face, and went out with the same expressive movements with which she entered. The two unvarnished braggarts followed the Valoras, Donya, Korja, with their eyes, and then with a despicable gesture drew their knives across their sleeve as though wiping off the blood there might have been sheathed them at one and the same time, and said together, Through a woman the world was lost. Through a woman Spain was lost, but it has never been known, nor do ballads relate, for the blind beggars sing, nor is it heard in the square or markets that two valiant men killed each other for another lover. Give me that fist, Don Popete. Your hand, Don Balbeja. They spoke and strode out into the street, the best friends in the world, leaving me all amazed at such whimsicality. Instead of an end-illusion duel by Seraphen Estebenes Calderón, private houses and local customs in Seville by Nathaniel Armstrong Wells, this LibriVox recording is in the public domain, reading by Bologna Times. Seville The greater number of private houses are situated in an interminable labyrinth of winding streets between the Calais de la Sierpe and Plaza de San Francisco and the city wall which connects the aqueduct of Carmona with the Alcazar. It is the southeastern half of the city. To the west of the Calais de la Sierpe there are also a few streets containing private residences, but they are not in so large a proportion. Some of the most elegant are, however, on this side which being less moorish and more modern is less charry of its attractions and allows a part of its decoration to enliven the external façades while its spacious doorways frequently open to the view of the passer-by a gay perspective of gardens and courts. The sunny balcony, crowded with a crimson forest of cactuses, is not more attractive to the sight than the more mysterious vista beneath it of retreating colonnades mingled with orange and pomegranate trees through which the murmur of the fountain is scarcely audible. Few cities present more charms to the wanderer than one in which the houses offer a combination so luxurious as is met with in the greater number of those of Seville. The cool summer rooms opening into the court in which the drawing-room furniture is arranged on all sides of a fountain, plentifully supplied from the aqueduct of Carmona, and on the upper floor the winter apartments chosen from their being better lighted for the deposit of a collection of pictures, and these almost always excellent, and opening to the gallery to which, during this season, the furniture having been removed from below is placed together with the work-frames and portable musical instruments on the side exposed to the sun. One sees these houses and their amiable and happy-looking inhabitants and imagines there is no life to be compared to it, yet the experiment may be made and fail to answer the expectations of the stranger who, confident in his discovery of the road to happiness, may have pitched his tent in the midst of these bewitching regions. Can it be fatality, or is it essential in human nature to find ever the least velocity there where it looks for the greatest? The experiment, I say, was made, an Englishman possessing every advantage of taste, talent and wealth, took up his residence here, resolved to devote the remainder of his days to the peaceable enjoyments of a literary and social life. Thanks to his literary propensities we are enabled to judge of the result of the trial. In a book published by the person to whom I allude we find that no one could be less satisfied with his lot. Still and the civilianos meet with no mercy at his hands, and must, if we may judge by his dislike of them, have rendered his life a burden. This, however, is a single example, and insufficient to deter others from the attempt. It may be that this individual had not entered fully into the spirit of an dilution existence. Every detail of life being here adapted to the place and its customs and climate, no custom can be erred against the impunity, that is, without the forfeit of some corresponding advantage. Seville presents two so different aspects during the two opposite seasons of the year, that to be well understood it should be visited at both. During the winter the existence does not materially differ from that of the inhabitants of most other European towns, accepting that the intercourse of society is subjected to less formality. Cards of invitation are rarely made use of, and you are not, consequently, exposed to the annoyance of seeing and hearing your house invaded by a dense crowd. On a night you have appointed a month before, without any possibility of foreseeing, whether you would be disposed or not on that particular night to undergo such a toil. These crowds are, I believe, unheard of in Seville, but those who are pleased in each other's society, know where to find each other, and without waiting for invitations. Small circles are formed every evening from which all crushing fatigue and intense dressing are excluded. The winter is also a more advantageous season for the stranger, who would be totally debarred by the summer heats from the activity necessary for the satisfaction of his curiosity in visiting the objects of interest contained in and around Seville. On the other hand the summer season offers to his contemplation the successful attainment of a mode of existence suited to the burning climate. A problem found to be solved but in few instances. The first and most essential arrangement appears to be the turning night in today, and vice-versa, as far as regards society and all locomotion. No one leaves his house until long after sunset, and visiting commences some hours later. The morning being consequently the time for repose, and the breakfast hour nevertheless remaining the same all the year round, the siesta is very essential, and is judiciously placed between the dinner, which terminates at four, and the hour for movement, nine. When the civiliano, refreshed by three or four hours' sleep, and a fresh toilette, is infinitely better disposed for the evening's amusements than the denizen of more northern climbs, who rises at that or a later hour from the chief rip-past of the day, and is put on trend by the less natural and less durable stimulants of the table. This mode of life presents other numerous advantages. A very prominent one is the inviolable division of time between society and solitude. We suppose the hour for rising, eight, immediately after the chocolate, that of breakfast, eleven. The intervening hours are solitary, and are frequently divided between the pillow and the toilette, while they are sometimes devoted to more useful occupations, and added to by early risers. From the family meeting at breakfast, until the dinner-hour, three. The time may be employed in business, reading. In fact, in every one's habitual pursuits. No intrusion is to be feared. No accursed killer lounges in to interrupt with his compliments, or gossip, your letter to your lawyer, or, if you are a lawyer yourself, that to your client, nor is the conscience of scrupulous porters burdened with the mendacious, not at home. These hours are sacred, and guaranteed by the very air, which renders the streets impassable, but leaves the cool court protected from the sun's ray by the toldo, canvas awning spread at a level with the roof, and which is reefed up at night like a sail, and refreshed by its ever murmuring fountain and cool marble pavement, to the peaceable enjoyment of its owners. The female portion of the family are thus enabled to devote themselves to household occupations, or to their favorite employments, without having to undergo, until the second, getting up in the evening, the fever of a complete toilette, which would, during the day, be insupportable. The time thus devoted to society is amply sufficient, as it may be prolonged, as each party feels inclined from an hour or two after sunset, until the returning rays drive all back to their cool retreat. The night of the festival of St. John is, in Seville, sacred, from remote time to amusement and festivity. During the five or six hours of darkness accorded by the midsummer sun, the banks of the Guadalquivier echo the gay melodious laugh which enlivens the animated buzz of the crowd, and the morning ray guilds the upper windows of the deserted houses before their doors are open to the sub-ercraving population. The right practice, on this occasion, is marked by a simplicity altogether antique. The youth of Seville, that is, the masculine portion, have provided themselves with small boxes containing a sort of sugarplum of exquisite flavor. One of these is held between the finger and the thumb of the cavallero, from the moment he sets foot on the promenade. On the approach of a party of ladies he endeavors to distinguish, as far off as the gloom permits, the features, or dress, of an already selected object of preference, or, if still freed, to make a selection, some countenance possessed of sufficient attraction to determine his choice. On discovering the owner of either of these requisites he watches a favorable opportunity, and, approaching the lady, offers the bonbon. The senorita, of course unmarried, thus selected, is obliged to accept the compliments, if properly offered, as well as the arm of the cavallero, during the rest of the night. And, on arriving at her house, he received from her parents, or chaperon, as the case may be, an invitation to suffer. Should the lady be desirous of avoiding the compliment of the approach of which she is usually aware, she must exercise her ingenuity in putting obstacles in the way of the attempt. In this effort many are successful, since the peculiar mode of proceeding obligatory on those who make the offer afford certain facilities. The condition is not binding on the fair object of the compliment, unless the lips receive the bonbon immediately from the finger and thumb of the cavallero. This is a source of no small amusement to the senoritas, at the expense of strangers from other provinces of Spain. Conscious of being the object of preference of some young beginner, or stranger, uninitiated in the mysteries of the right, and who, let it be understood, does not happen to be an object of preference with them, they will afford him every facility of approach, and, on receiving the present in the hand, will repulse without mercy the luckless white whose retiring steps are accompanied by peals of laughter from all the party. The month of June is likewise distinguished by the procession of the Corpus Christi. On this occasion all the principal streets are protected from the sun by canvas awnings, and from the windows of every house draperies are suspended, the materials of which are more or less rich according to the means of the respective proprietors. From an early hour of the morning, ushered in by sunshine and the gay orchestra of the Geraldo bells, the vast marble pavement of the cathedral begins to disappear beneath the momentarily increasing crowd. Here all classes are mingled, but the most conspicuous are the arrivals from the surrounding villages, distinguished by their more sunburnt complexions and the showy colors of their costume, contrasted with the uniformly dark tents of the attire of the civilianos. Here are seen also in great numbers accompanied by their relatives, the gay Cigarreras, whose acquaintances we shall presently make in the Fabrica de Tabaco. The instinctive coquetri discernible, no less in the studied reserve of their looks than in the smart step and faultless nicety of costume, indicates how easy would be the transition to the quality of the still more pecan, but somewhat less moral maja. The black satin, low quartered shoe, is of a different material, but the snow-white stocking and dark green skirt the same, and the black velvet bordered mantilla is the identical one which was held tight to the chin when passing the evening before under the city walls on the return from the manufactory to the faux bargue at the other extremity of Seville. The procession headed by a band of music and accompanied by the dignitaries of the diocese and civil authorities of the province, bearing serges, winds through the principal streets and reenters the church to the sound of the two magnificent organs never heard in unison except on this anniversary. The exterior of the principal portal is ornamented on this occasion with a sort of curtain which is said to contain upwards of three thousand yards of crimson velvet bordered with gold lace. The columns of the center nave are also completely attired from top to bottom with coverings of the same material. The value of the velvet employed is stated at nearly ten thousand pounds. Christmas Day is also solemnized at Seville with much zeal, but the manner of doing it on presents more of novelty than splendor. At the early hour of seven the parish churches are completely filled. The organ pours forth from that time until the termination of the service an uninterrupted succession of heirs called seguadillas from the dance to which they are adopted. On the gallery which adjoins the organ loft of each church are established five or six muscular youths selected for their untiring activity. They are provided each with a tambourine and their duty consists in drawing from it as much and as varied sound as it will render without coming to pieces. With this view they enter upon the amiable contest and try during three or four hours which of their number employing hands, knees, feet, and elbows in succession can produce the most racking intonations. On the pavement immediately below there is generally a group composed of the friends of the performers as may be discerned from the smiles of intelligence directed upwards and downwards. Some of these appear from the animated signs of approbation and encouragement with which they reward each, more than usually violent concussion, to be backers of favorite heroes. During all this time one or two priests are engaged before the altar in the performance of a series of noiseless ceremonies and the pavement of the body of the church is pressed by the knees of a dense crowd of devotees. The propensity to robbery and assassination attributed by several tourists to the population of this country has been much exaggerated. The imagination of the stranger is usually so worked upon by these accounts as to induce him never to set foot outside the walls of whatever city he inhabits, without being well armed. As far as regards the environs of Seville this precaution is superfluous. They may be traversed in all directions, at all events within walking distance or to the extent of a moderate ride, without risk. Far from exercising violence the peasants never fail in passing to greet the stranger with a respectful salutation. But I cannot be guaranteed for other towns or environs which I have not visited. It is certain that equal security does not exist nearer the coast on the frequented roads which communicate between Saint-Lucas, Zerries, and Cadiz, nor in the opposite direction throughout the mountain passes of the Sierra Morena. But this state of things is far from being universal. I would much prefer passing a night on a country road in the neighborhood of Seville to threading the maze of the streets which formed the southeastern portion of the town, mentioned above as containing the greater number of the residences of private families. This quarter is not without its perils. In fact, if dark deeds are practiced, no situation could possibly be better suited to them. These Arab streets wind and twist and turn back on themselves like a serpent in pain. Every ten yards presents a hiding place. There is just sufficient lighting up at night to prevent your distinguishing whether the street is clear or not, and the ground floors of the houses in the winter season are universally deserted. An effectual warning was afforded to me almost immediately on my arrival at Seville against frequenting this portion of the town with our precaution after nightfall. An acquaintance, a young sevillano who had been my daily companion during the first five or six days which followed my arrival, was in the habit of frequenting with assiguity. Some of the above mentioned streets he inhabited one of them and was continually drawn by potent attraction towards two others. In one, in particular, he followed a practice, the imprudence of which in more than one respect, as he was my junior, I had already pointed out to him. A lady, as you have already conjectured, resided in the house in question. My friend, like many of his compatriots, sighed to many, but he loved this one, and she was precisely the one that could never be his. She allowed him, however, a harmless rendezvous, separated from all danger as she thought by the distance from the ground to the balcony situated on the first floor. The lady, being married and regular visiting being only possible at formal intervals, these interviews had by degrees alarmingly, as appeared to me, increased in frequency and duration until at length, during two hours each evening, my acquaintance poured forth in a subdued tone, calculated to reach only the fair form which bent over the balcony, his tender complaints. The youth of these climes are communicative on subjects which so deeply interest their feelings, and whether willing or not one is often admitted to share their secrets at the commencement of an acquaintance. It was thus that I had had an opportunity of lecturing my friend on the various dangers attending the practice in which he was persisting, and of recommending him, the best advice of all, being, of course, useless, to revive the more prudent custom of bygone times, and if he must offer nightly incense to the object of his fire, to adopt the mode sanctioned by Count Almavira, and entrust his vows to the mercenary eloquence of choristers and cat-cut to anything or anybody provided it be done by proxy. My warning was vain, but the mischief did not befall him exactly in the manner I had contemplated. His cousin opened my door while I was breakfasting, and informed me that L was in the house of Don G. A., and in bed, having received a wound the previous night from some robbers, and that he wished to see me. I found him in a house into which I had already been introduced, being one of those he most frequented. A bed had been prepared in the drawing-room, all the window-shutters of which were closed, and he was lying there, surrounded by the family of his host, to whom was added his sister. As he was unable to speak above a whisper, I was given the seat by the bedside while he related to me his adventure. He had just quitted the street of the balcony at about nine o'clock, and was approaching the house we were now in, when, on turning a corner, he was attacked by three ruffians, one of whom demanded his money in the usual terms—your purse or your life. While before he had time to reply, but was endeavoring to pass on, a second phased him, and stabbed him in the breast, through his cloak. He then ran forward, followed by the three, down the street, into the house, and up the staircase, the robbers not quitting the pursuit until he rang the bell on the first floor. The surgeon had been immediately called, and had pronounced his—him wounded within not an inch, but the tenth part of an inch of his life, for the steel had penetrated to within the distance of his heart. My first impression was that the robbers were acting apart, and had been hired to get rid of him, otherwise what were the utility of stabbing him when they might have rifled his pockets without such necessity? But this he assured me could not be the case, as the person most likely to fall under such suspicion was incapable of employing similar means, adding that that was the usual mode of committing robberies in Seville. I left him, after having assured him how much I envied his good fortune, saying that he was in no danger and only condemned to pass a week or two in the society of charming women, all zealously employed in nursing him, for such was the truth one of the young ladies being supposed, and I fear with justice, to be the object of his addresses. The ungrateful wretch convinced me, by his reply, as we conversed in French, and were not understood by those present, that his greatest torment was impatient to escape from his confinement in order to see or write to the other fair one. At the end of the week he was sufficiently recovered to be removed to the house of his family. From certain hints dropped during a conversation which took place more than a month after the event, it is to be feared that the knife of the assassin, in approaching so near to the heart of his intended victim, succeeded by some mysterious electric transmission in inflicting a positive wound on that of the lady of the balcony. I afterwards learned that it was usual for those who inhabited or frequented this part of Seville, and indeed all other parts, excepting the few principal thoroughfares and streets containing the shops and cafes, to carry arms after nightfall, and in shaking hands with a co-aintance I have sometimes perceived a naked sword blade half visible among the folds of his cloak. These perils only exist in the winter, and not in all winters, only in those during which provisions increase in price beyond the average, and the season is more than usually rigorous, the poor being thus exposed to more than the accustomed privations. There are towns in which assassinations and robbery are marked by more audacity than is their habitual character in this part of Andalusia. Of these, Malaga is said to be one of the worst, although perhaps the most favorite spot in Europe with respect to natural advantages. An instance of daring ruffianism occurred there this winter. A person of consideration in the town had been found in the street stabbed and robbed. His friends, being possessed of much influence and disposing, no doubt, of other weighty inducements to action, the police was aroused to unusual activity. The murderer was arrested, and brought before the al-Qaeda Primero. A summary mode of jurisprudence was put in practice, and the culprit was ordered for execution on the following day. On being led from the presence of the court, he turned to the al-Qaeda, and addressing him with vehemence threatened him with certain death, in the event of the sentence being put in execution. The al-Qaeda, although doubtless, not entirely free from anxiety, was, by the threat itself, the more forcibly bound to carry into effect the judgment he had pronounced. The execution, therefore, took place at the appointed hour. The following morning the dead body of the al-Qaeda was found in a street adjoining that in which he resided. End of Private Houses and Local Customs in Seville by Nathaniel Armstrong-Wells by the Champans-Polman Cars Undignified Locomotion Paper Money The Drawbacks of Japanese Traveling Oriental Hotel Yokohama May 21st Eighteen days of unintermitted, rolling over desolate rainy seas brought the city of Tokyo earlier yesterday morning to Cape King, and by noon we were steaming up the Gulf of Yedo, quite near the shore. The day was soft and gray with a little faint blue sky, and, though the coast of Japan is much more prepossessing than most coasts, there were no startling surprises either of color or form. Broken wooded ridges, deeply cleft, rise from the water's edge. Gray, deep-rooted villages, cluster about the mouths of the ravines, and terraces of rice cultivation, bright with the greenness of English lawns, run up to a great height among dark masses of upland forest. The populousness of the coast is very impressive, and the gulf everywhere was equally peopled with fishing boats, of which we pass not only hundreds but thousands in five hours. The coast and sea were pale, and the boats were pale too, their hulls being unpainted wood, and their sails pure white duck, now and then a high-stirmed junk drifted by like a phantom galley. Then we slackened speed to avoid exterminating a fleet of triangular-looking fishing boats with white square sails, and so on through the grayness and dumbness hour after hour. For long I looked in vain for Fujisan, and failed to see it, though I heard ecstasies all over the deck, till accidentally looking heavenwards, instead of earthwards, I saw far above any possibility of height, as one would have thought a huge, truncated cone of pure snow, thirteen thousand and eighty feet above the sea, from which it sweeps upwards in a glorious curve, very at one, against a very pale blue sky, with its space, and the intervening country veiled in a pale gray mist. It was a wonderful vision, and shortly, as a vision, vanished. Except the cone of Tristan diakuna, also a cone of snow, I never saw a mountain rise in such lonely majesty, with nothing near or far to detract from its height and grandeur. No wonder that it is a sacred mountain, and so dear to the Japanese that there art is never weary of representing it, it was nearly fifty miles off when we first saw it. The air and water were alike motionless, the mist was still in pale, gray clouds lay restfully on a bluish sky, the reflections of the white sails of the fishing boats scarcely quivered. It was also pale, warm, and ghastly, that the turbulence of crumpled foam, which we left behind us, and our noisy throbbing progress, seemed a boisterous intrusion upon sleeping Asia. The gulf narrowed, the forest crusted hills, the terraced ravines, the picturesque gray villages, the quiet beach life, and the pale blue masses of the mountains of the interior became more visible. Fuji retired into the mist, in which he enfolds his grandeur for most of the summer. We passed Reception Bay, Perry Island, Webster Island, Cape Saratoga, and Mississippi Bay, American nomenclature, which perpetuates the success of American diplomacy, and not far from Treaty Point, came upon a red light ship with the words Treaty Point and large letters upon her. Outside of this no foreign vessel may anchor. The bustle among my fellow passengers, many of whom were returning home, and all of whom expected to be met by friends, left me at leisure as I looked at unattractive, unfamiliar Yokohama, and the pale gray land stretched out before me, to speculate, somewhat sadly, on my destiny, on these strange shores, on which I have not even an acquaintance. On mooring we were at once surrounded by crowds of native boats, called by foreigners, sampans, and Dr. Gullick, a near relation of my Gila friends, came on board to meet his daughter, welcomed me cordially, and relieved me of all the trouble of disembarkation. These sampans are very clumsy looking, but are managed with great dexterity by the boatman, who gave and received any number of bumps with much good nature, and without any of the shouting and swearing in which competitive boatmen usually indulge. The partially triangular shape of these boats approaches that of a salmon-fishers' punt used on certain British rivers. Being floored gives them the appearance of being absolutely flat-bottomed, but, though they tilt readily, they are very safe, being heavily built and fitted together with singular precision, with wooden bolts and a few copper cleats. They are sculled—not what we should call road—by two or four men, with very heavy ores made of two pieces of wood, working on pens placed on outrigger bars. The men sculled standing, and used the thigh as a rest for the ore. They all wear a single, wide-sleeved scanty, blue-cotton garment, not fastened or girdled at the waist. Straw sandals, kept on by a thong passing between the great toe and the others, and if they wear any headgear it is only a wisp of blue cotton tied round the forehead. The one garment is only an apology for clothing, and displays lean concave chests and lean muscular limbs. The skin is very yellow, and often much tattooed with mythical beasts. The charge for sandpans is fixed by tariff, so the traveller lands without having his temper ruffled by extortionate demands. The first thing that impressed me on landing was that there were no loafers, and that all the small, ugly, kindly-looking, shriveled, bandy-legged, round-shouldered, concave chested, poor-looking beings in the streets had some affairs of their own to mind. At the top of the landing steps there was a portable restaurant, a neat and most compact thing with charcoal stove, cooking and eating utensils complete, but it looked as if it were made by and four dolls, and the mannequin who kept it was not five feet high. At the Custom House we were attended to by minute officials in blue uniforms of European pattern and leather boots, very civil creatures who opened and examined our trunks carefully and strapped them up again, contrasting pleasingly with the insolent and rapacious officials who performed the same duties at New York. Outside were about fifty of the now well-known gentikishas, and the air was full of a buzz produced by the rapid reiteration of this uncouth word by fifty tongues. This conveyance, as you know, is a feature of Japan, growing in importance every day. It was only invented seven years ago, and already there are nearly twenty-three thousand in one city, and men can make so much more by drawing them than by almost any kind of skilled labour that thousands of fine young men desert agricultural pursuits and flock into the towns to make drought animals of themselves. Though it is said that the average duration of a man's life after he takes to running is only five years and that the runners fall victim in large numbers to aggravated forms of heart and lung disease, overtolerably level ground a good runner can trot forty miles a day at a rate of about four miles an hour. They are registered and taxed at eight s a year for one carrying two persons, and for s for one, which carries one only, and there is a regular tariff for time and distance. The karuma, or genrikisha, consists of a light perambulator body, an adjustable hood of oiled paper, a velvet or cloth lining and cushion, a well for parcels under the seat, two high-slem whales, and a pair of shafts connected by a bar at the ends. The body is usually lacquered and decorated according to its owner's taste. Some show little, except polished brass. Others are altogether inlaid with shells known as venus's ear, and others are godly painted with contorted dragons or groups of peonies, hydrangeas, chrysanthemums, and mythical personages. They cost from two pounds upwards. The shafts rest on the ground at a steep incline as you get in. It must require much practice to enable one to mount with ease or dignity. The runner lifts them up, gets into them, gives the body a good tilt backwards, and goes off at a smart trot. They are drawn by one, two, or three men, according to the speed desired by the occupants. When rain comes on, the man puts up the hood and ties you and it closely up in a covering of oiled paper in which you are invisible. At night, whether running or standing still, they carry prettily painted circular paper lanterns eighteen inches long. It is most comical to see stout, florid, solid-looking merchants, missionaries, male and female, fashionably dressed ladies, armed with card cases, Chinese compradors, and Japanese peasant men and women flying along Main Street, which is like the decent, respectable high street of a dozen forgotten country towns in England. In happy unconsciousness of the ludicrousness of their appearance, racing, chasing, crossing each other, their lean polite, pleasant runners in their great hats shaped like inverted bowls, their incomprehensible blue tights, and their short blue overshirts with badges or characters in white upon them, tearing along their yellow faces, streaming with perspiration, laughing, shouting, and avoiding collisions by a mere shave. After a visit to the consulate, I entered a caroma and, with two ladies and two more, was bold along at a furious pace by a laughing little mannequin down Main Street, a narrow, solid, well-paved street with well-made sidewalks, curb stones, and gutters with iron lamp posts, gas lamps, and foreign shops all along its length, to this quiet hotel recommended by Sir Wyville Thompson, which offers a refuge from the nasal twang of my fellow voyagers who have all gone to the caravan sorrells on the Bund. The host is a Frenchman, but he relies on a Chinaman. The servants are Japanese boys in Japanese clothes, and there is a Japanese groom of the chambers in faultless English costume, who perfectly appalls me by the elaborate politeness of his manner. Almost as soon as I arrived I was obliged to go in search of Mr. Fraser's office in the settlement. I say, search, for there are no names on the streets, where there are numbers that they have no sequence, and I met no Europeans on foot to help me in my difficulty. Yokohama does not improve on further acquaintance. It has a dead, alive look. It has irregularity without picturesqueness, and the gray sky, gray sea, gray houses, and gray roofs look harmoniously dull. No foreign money except the Mexican dollar passes in Japan, and Mr. Fraser's copperador soon metamorphosed my English gold into Japanese satsu, or paper money, a bundle of yen nearly apart just now with the dollar packets of 50, 20, and 10 Zen notes, and some rouleau of very neat copper coins. The initiated recognize the different denominations of paper money at a glance by their differing colors and sizes, but at present they are a distracting mystery to me. The notes are pieces of stiff paper with Chinese characters at the corners, near which, with exceptionally good eyes or a magnifying glass, one can discern an English word denoting the value. They are very neatly executed and are ornamented with chrysanthemum crest of the Mikado and the interlaced dragons of the empire. I longed to get away into real Japan. Mr. Wilkinson, HBM's acting consul, called yesterday, and was extremely kind. He thinks that my plan for traveling in the interior is rather too ambitious, but that it is perfectly safe for a lady to travel alone, and agrees with everybody else in thinking that legions of fleas and the miserable horses are the great drawbacks of Japanese traveling. End of Letter 1 by Isabella L. Bird. Furisode by Lafcadio Hearn. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, reading by Bologna Times. Furisode by Lafcadio Hearn for The Tales of the City's Compilation. Recently, while passing through a little street teneted chiefly by dealers in old wares, I noticed a furisode, or long-sleeved robe, of the rich purple tent called Merasaki, hanging before one of the shops. It was a robe such as might have been worn by a lady of rank in the time of the Tokugawa. I stopped to look at the five crests upon it, and in the same moment there came to my recollection this legend of a similar robe said to have once caused the destruction of Yedo. Nearly two hundred and fifty years ago, the daughter of a rich merchant of the city of the Shoguns, while attending some temple festival, perceived in the crowd a young samurai of remarkable beauty, and immediately fell in love with him. Unhappily for her he disappeared in the press before she could learn through her attendance who he was or whence he had come. But his image remained vivid in her memory, even to the least detail of his costume. The holiday attire then worn by samurai youths was scarcely less brilliant than that of young girls, and the upper dress of this handsome stranger had seemed wonderfully beautiful to the enamored maiden. She fancied that by wearing a robe of light quality and color, bearing the same crest, she might be able to attract his notice on some future occasion. Accordingly she had such a robe made with very long sleeves, according to the fashion of the period, and she prized it greatly. She wore it whenever she went out, and when at home she would suspend it in her room and try to imagine the form of her unknown beloved within it. Sometimes she would pass hours before it, dreaming and weeping by turns, and she would pray to the gods and the Buddhas that she might win the young man's affection, often repeating the invocation of the nici rensect. Namu myo ho renge kyo, but she never saw the youth again, and she pined with longing for him, and sickened, and died, and was buried. After her burial the long-sleeved robe that she had so much prized was given to the Buddhist temple of which her family were parishioners. It is an old custom to thus dispose of the garments of the dead. The priest was able to sell the robe at a good price, for it was a costly silk, and bore no traces of the tears that had fallen upon it. It was bought by a girl of about the same age as the dead lady. She wore it only one day, then she fell sick, and began to act strangely, crying out that she was haunted by the vision of a beautiful young man, and that for love of him she was going to die, and, within a little while, she died, and the long-sleeved robe was a second time presented to the temple. Again the priest sold it, and again it became the property of a young girl who wore it only once. Then she also sickened, and talked of a beautiful shadow, and died, and was buried, and the robe was given a third time to the temple, and the priest wondered and doubted. Nevertheless he ventured to sell the luckless garment once more. Once more it was purchased by a girl, and once more worn, and the wearer pined and died, and the robe was given a fourth time to the temple. Then the priest felt sure that there was some evil influence at work, and he told his acolytes to make a fire in the temple court, and to burn the robe. So they made a fire, into which the robe was thrown, but as the soak began to burn, there suddenly appeared upon it dazzling characters of flame, the characters of the invocation, Namo Mio Ho Orenge Kio, and these one by one leapt like great sparks to the temple roof, and the temple took fire. Embers from the burning temple presently dropped upon neighboring roofs, and the whole street was soon ablaze. Then a seawind rising, blew destruction into further streets, and the conflagration spread from street to street, and from district into district, till nearly the whole of the city was consumed. And this calamity, which occurred upon the eighteenth day of the first month of the first year of Merike, 1655, is still remembered in Tokyo as the Furisod Kwaji, the great fire of the long-sleeved robe. According to a storybook called Kibon Dejin, the name of the girl who caused the robe to be made was Osami, and she was the daughter of Hiko Yeman, a wine merchant of Hyakushu Machi, in the district of Azebu. Because of her beauty she was also called Azebu Komachi, or the Komachi of Azebu. The same book says that the temple of the tradition was a Nichiren temple called Honmyochi, in the district of Hongo, and that the crest upon the robe was a kikyo flower. But there are many different versions of the story, and I distrust the Kibon Dejin, because it asserts that the beautiful samurai was not really a man, but a transformed dragon or water serpent that used to inhabit the lake at Ueno, Shinobazu no Ike. After more than a thousand years, the name of Komachi, or Ono no Komachi, is still celebrated in Japan. She was the most beautiful woman of her time, and so great a poet that she could move heaven by her verses, and cause rain to fall in time of drought. Many men loved her in vain, and many are said to have died for love of her. But misfortunes visited her when her youth had passed, and after having been reduced to the uttermost want, she became a beggar, and died at last upon the public highway near Kyoto. As it was thought shameful to bury her in the foul rags found upon her, some poor person gave a worn out summer robe, Katabiera, to wrap her body in, and she was interred near Arashiyama at a spot still pointed out to travelers as the place of Katabiera no Tsuchi. End of Furisod by Levkario Hearn