helmet."

It was a suggestion of vigilance wisely given and alertly acted upon.
The strongholds of the league were invested without delay, and one by
one fell into the victors' hands. The fragments of the beaten army were
followed and dispersed. Soon all opposition was at an end, and Iyeyasu
was lord and master of Japan.

The story of the victor in the most decisive victory Japan had ever
known, one that was followed by two and a half centuries of peace, needs
to complete it a recital of two important events, one being the founding
of Yedo, the great eastern capital, the other the organization of the
system of feudalism.

For ages the country around the Bay of Yedo, now the chief centre of
activity and civilization in Japan, was wild and thinly peopled. The
first mention of it in history is in the famous march of Yamato-Dake,
whose wife leaped here into the waves as a sacrifice to the maritime
gods. In the fifteenth century a small castle was built on the site of
the present city, while near it on the Tokaida, the great highway
between the two ancient capitals, stood a small village, whose chief use
was for the refreshment and assistance of travellers.

Ota Dagnan, the lord of the castle, was a warrior of fame, whose deeds
have gained him a place in the song and story of Japan. Of the tales
told of him there is one whose poetic significance has given it a fixed
place in the legendary lore of the land. One day, when the commandant
was amusing himself in the sport of hawking, a shower of rain fell
suddenly and heavily, forcing him to stop at a house near by and request
the loan of a grass rain-coat,--a _mino_, to give it its Japanese name.

A young and very pretty girl came to the door at his summons, listened
to his polite request, and stood for a moment blushing and confused.
Then, running into the garden, she plucked a flower, handed it with a
mischievous air to the warrior, and disappeared within the house. Ota,
angrily flinging down the flower, turned away, after an impulse to force
his way into the house and help himself to the coat. He returned to the
castle wet and fuming at the slight to his rank and dignity.

Soon after he related the incident to some court nobles from Kioto, who
had stopped at the castle, and who, to his surprise, did not share his
indignation at the act.

"Why, the incident was delightful," said one among them who was
specially versed in poetic lore; "who would have looked for such wit