chisels that
almost broke as they handled them; hammers the size of a lady's hat-pin.
My foreman's face was a study of disgusted contempt. "Now, how can a man
turn out decent work with tools like that?" he exclaimed, looking round
appealingly. And it did seem impossible. But not one of them complained
when they came across the actual work accomplished by these ridiculously
small instruments. The carpenters were loud in their admiration for the
wood-carving, and the foreman merely sniffed. He knew that he himself
could not approach it. And this was soon clearly proved, for if ever my
hands tried to do a bit of patching it was always a failure. All their
joining was as child's play when compared with this Japanese triumph.

There was a man in Osaka, a perfect genius in wood-carving--the king of
carpenters. People journeyed from long distances to pay their respects
to him, and he was the most independent person I ever saw in my life. He
never dreamt of undertaking service for people unless they appreciated
it and understood its value. Very rich Americans have tried to persuade
him to engage for them; but, as he always demanded that would-be
purchasers should be capable of appreciating his work as that of an
accomplished artist, they rarely ever succeeded. Nearly all this man's
work is done for his own people at a very low price, and Japanese
wood-carvers are continually taking pilgrimages to see him and to buy
specimens of his productions. He always demands to know what is going to
become of them, and where they are going to be placed, before consenting
to part with them. I had the wit not to ask him to sell anything to me,
nor to execute anything for me, but simply admired his work as that of a
unique artist.

[Illustration: A SIGN-PAINTER'S]

Most prominent among the toilers of Japan are the workers in lacquer,
clean and dainty beyond description, with whom a great portion of my
time was taken up. The climate of the country is exactly suited to the
making of lacquer, being sufficiently damp. The process is unusually
elaborate, and is a tedious matter of painting on a very large number of
coats of lacquer, rubbing them down always, and allowing them to dry.
When we think of lacquer here in England, we think of it in connection
with our tea-trays and like cheap goods which we complain of as being
made of bad material that chips and breaks and becomes useless in a
distressingly short space of time. "The Japanese have los