e
lives, afflicted or cut short, whichever happens. So he is staying
safe at Nikko, in seclusion, waiting for the cool of Autumn to come
and purge his land.

Once he was to come back to Tokyo, to his capital. For September waned
and he was due there, the Son of Heaven, due in his capital. Many of
his subjects came to the station at Nikko on the day appointed for his
departure, stepping with short steps in their high clogs, tinkling on
the roadside in their clogs, scratching in their sandals. They came in
crowds to the station, at the hour when he was due to enter the royal
train. But when the time came for his departure, he did not go. He
would tarry awhile longer at Nikko. So the crowds were disappointed
and did not understand. Rumour had it that cholera had developed in
the royal household itself--the Purveyor to the Palace, so it was
stated, had contracted the disease. A fish dealer, bringing fish to
the palace, had brought cholera with him. So the Emperor tarries at
Nikko, and the highroad, behind the Imperial Palace in Tokyo is
closed to the public, lest any poor coolie, strolling by, should
become ill and bring this dread thing near to the precincts of the Son
of Heaven.

The foreigners are very careful as to what they eat. They avoid the
fruits, the ripe, rich Autumn figs, and the purple grapes, and the
hard, round, woody pears, and the sweet butter and many other things.
Oh, these days the rich foreigners are very careful of themselves, and
meal times are not as pleasant as they used to be. They discuss their
food, and wonder about it. And because there is cholera, rife in the
ports, and among the fishermen and sailors, the authorities have
closed the fish market of Tokyo. The great Nihom-Bashi market, down by
the bridge, the vile, evil smelling fish market, lying along the
sluggish canal, is closed. The canal is full of straw thatched boats.
It all smells very nasty in that quarter, it smells like cholera. No
wonder there is cholera, with that smell. No wonder the great market
is closed. So the baskets of bamboo are empty, turned upside down, for
there is no fish in them. The people, bare-legged, nearly naked, stand
idly about the empty fish market, and talk together of this fear
which is abroad, which has ruined their trade. What is this fear? They
cannot understand. They do not know it. Only the Emperor cannot eat
fish now, for some reason, and their business is ruined because of his
caprice.

It is very