f obligation, than they are as expressions of sentiment.
Every housekeeper, for instance, must need the occasional services of a
carpenter or a gardener, and in a large city like T[=o]ky[=o] the
chances are that she will some day need, and need very badly, the
services of a fireman. A wise woman--one who is not penny wise and pound
foolish--will by timely presents keep herself constantly in the minds of
such persons, so that when she sends for them, they may feel under
sufficient obligation to her to come at once. So will her house be
quickly put in repair after earthquake or other accident; her garden
show for only the briefest interval the ravages of the typhoon which has
gullied out her lawn and leveled her choicest trees; and when some night
"the flower of Yedo" blooms suddenly by her side, she will have the
speedy assistance of the firemen, who will seal her storehouse securely
with clay, wet her roof and walls thoroughly with water, and light at
her gates the great alarm lanterns to tell her friends that her house is
in danger and summon them to her assistance. No friend can disregard
such a signal, but all will rally round her once more to help in this
less orderly and cheerful moving,--will pack and cord and carry out her
goods, and if at last the fire consumes her dwelling, will gather her
household and belongings into their hospitable homes. But the foolish
woman, who neglects or forgets her dependents when she does not need
them, finds some day that her roof is leaking, but all the carpenters
are too busy to mend it, her garden is destroyed because the gardener
had an important engagement elsewhere just when she needed him, and her
property is burned up or ruined by water and smoke because the firemen
attended to her house last when the fire swept over her compound.

When death enters a house in Japan, there are no undertakers to relieve
the family of the painful duty of caring for the dead body and placing
it in the coffin. There are coffin-makers and funeral managers who
supply the great white bier and lanterns and the bunches of paper
flowers that adorn every funeral procession, but within the house the
preparations are all made by the family and friends, and the heaviest
and most painful part of the work falls, as usual, on the women of the
family. As soon as the breath finally leaves the body, it is wrapped in
a quilt, laid with its head to the north, and an inverted screen placed
around it. On one corner