lp me
out, "and we'll make a night of it."

I saw nothing humorous in what I had said, but it had a curious effect
on Zura. She changed her mind so swiftly, her manner grew so gleeful, I
thought maybe I had made a promise I could not keep.

"All right, old sport," she laughed with reckless gaiety, "I'll go; you
stick to me and I'll give you the time of your young life. But make it
clear to the devotees in this house that I won't tie myself up in a
kimono; neither will I bend an inch before any of those
dropsical-looking images."

Soon we heard the rustle of the Master's silken garments. He entered,
closely followed by his mother, wife and daughter, their kimonos and
obis in colors soft and mellow as befitted older women, and each covered
with an overcoat thin of texture and rich in quality. This outer garment
was the insignia not only of rank, but of the grave importance of the
occasion.

Their greetings to me were soon over, and Zura announced that she was
going with us.

Without a glimmer of pleasure in her seeming willingness to obey, her
grandfather said, "It is well."

Had he glanced at the girl when he voiced it, he would have chosen other
words. In her very bright eyes there was a look which boded no spirit
of good will.

Kishimoto San, with his mother, led the way on our pilgrimage. We
followed behind; and bringing up the rear was an army of servants loaded
with blankets, cushions and hampers of food. It was to be a long session
of worship and festivities, and the family would need all the comforts
of home before their return.

The festival was called "Tanjo Shaka" (Buddha's Birthday), and as our
little party passed through the great gates the crowds of
holiday-makers, which thronged the enclosure, testified to the
popularity of the day. The broad avenue leading to the steps of the old
temple was lined on each side by temporary booths, from which one could
purchase anything from a hot sweet potato to a much-decorated prayer,
from false teeth to a charm to ward off the chicken-pox.

There was a man who made a dainty fan while you waited; the cook who
made a cake while you prayed; the handkerchief man and the sock man; and
ah me! the funny old codger, bald of head and shriveled of body, but
with a bit of heaven in his weary old eyes. It was the reflection of the
baby faces about him. His was the privilege of fashioning from sticky,
sweet dough wonderful flowers of brilliant hue and the children flocked