comes
in is a female woman! Goodness gracious! and so are all the rest!"

"No, no," says Cousin D., "it's a man--they're all men."

"With those Dolly Vardens on?" says I. "Do you think I was brought up in
the woods, to take doves for night-hawks?"

"It's the Japanese fashion," says he.

"For men to dress in--well, skirts?"

"Certainly. Don't you see that the lower skirt is formed into loose
trousers that two or three of 'em wear?"

I did look, and saw that the black silk underskirt some of these heathen
Japanese wore was puckered up a little around the ankles, just enough to
show off two peaked shoes, that must have been lovely wearing for a foot
that was all great toe, but awkward for one that wasn't. In fact, I
began to be awfully puzzled about the dress of the first one that came
along, for above the skirt of purple silk was a Dolly Varden, all but
the puffing out, of black silk, spotted over with white needlework. To
top off all, this Japanee wore the funniest sort of a thing on the head,
like a shiny black wash-bowl, with a hole in it, from which a stumpy
black ball stuck up in the air--about the pertest-looking thing you ever
saw. Around the edge was a white binding, all curlicued off with queer
black figures, and a lot of stiff black stuff streamed down from behind,
like a crow's tail.

This dress was tied round the waist with a silk scarf, and to that hung
a long, black sword, sideways, with the point sticking out behind,
furious as could be.

Only two of the Japanese were dressed in these frocks, figured off with
white, with purple--well--skirts, under. Three others had thin
purple--well--skirts, puckered up into baggy trousers, which showed off
their peaked, hawk-bill shoes beautifully. These five high Japanese came
marching one after another--Indian file--looking as solemn as eight-day
clocks. Then came five more with black Dolly's, bound with purple, and
with purple figures worked on the backs, and the underskirts puckered up
into trousers. Every one of them had swords, and they all marched
straight up to the President with them dangling by their sides.

"There, do you see that," whispered Cousin Dempster. "Are you satisfied
now? Women do not, as a general thing, wear swords."

"They may be strong-minded," says I.

Before Cousin Dempster had time to speak, the little Japanee that they
called Iwakura had got right before the President. There he made a low
bow, and, as if jerked by the same strin