as fallen seven times into the same fatal
error, and I have two little sisters-in-law: Mdlle. La Neige,[G] and
Mdlle. La Lune,[H] as well as five little brothers-in-law: Cerisier,
Pigeon, Liseron, Or, and Bambou.

[Footnote G: In Japanese: _Oyouki-San_ (like Madame Prune's
daughter).]

[Footnote H: In Japanese: _Tsouki-San_.]

Little Bambou is four years old,--a yellow baby, fat and round all
over, with fine bright eyes; coaxing and jolly, sleeping whenever he
is not laughing. Of all my Niponese family, Bambou is the one I love
the most.

XXXVI.

_Tuesday, August 27th_.

We have spent the day,--Yves, Chrysantheme, Oyouki and
myself,--wandering through dark and dusty nooks, dragged hither and
thither by four quick-footed djins, in search of antiquities in the
bric-a-brac shops.

Towards sunset, Chrysantheme, who has wearied me more than ever since
the morning, and who doubtless has perceived it, pulls a very long
face, declares herself ill, and begs leave to spend the night at her
mother's, Madame Renoncule.

I agree to this with the best grace in the world; let her go, tiresome
little mousme! Oyouki will carry a message to her parents, who will
shut up our rooms; we shall spend the evening, Yves and I, in roaming
about as fancy takes us, without any mousme dragging at our heels, and
shall afterwards regain our own quarters on board the _Triomphante_,
without having the trouble of climbing up that hill.

First of all, we make an attempt to dine together in some fashionable
tea-house. Impossible, there is not a place to be had; all the absurd
paper rooms, all the compartments contrived by so many ingenious
dodges of slipping and sliding panels, all the nooks and corners in
the little gardens are filled with Japanese men and women eating
impossible and incredible little dishes! numberless young dandies are
dining _tete-a-tete_ with the lady of their choice, and sounds of
dancing girls and music issue from the private rooms.

The fact is, that to-day is the third and last day of the great
pilgrimage to the temple of the _Jumping Tortoise_, of which we saw
the commencement yesterday, and all Nagasaki is at this time given
over to amusement.

At the tea-house of the _Indescribable Butterflies_, which is also
full to overflowing, but where we are well-known, they have had the
bright idea of throwing a temporary flooring over the little
lake,--the pond where the gold-fish live, and it is here that our me