the window against the
descending rain. Quickly and deftly she proceeded to wipe the moisture
off the shining vessels, to put everything in order in O'Taki's usually
immaculate kitchen. Women of this class are finicky housekeepers in
their own homes. As the old wife became less engaged she began to hear
strange sounds above. Some one was in conversation--and yet it was a
one-sided queer kind of talk. The voice was threatening and wheedling.
Then she heard a child cry. Surely O'Taki was in the upper room; and
thus neglectful of her lord and household.

The old Baba went to the foot of the ladder and listened. "Nesan!
Nesan!" No answer came, beyond the curious droning monotone above,
varied by an occasional wailing cry of the child. It seemed to be in
pain. Resolute, the sturdy old Baba began to climb the steps. At the top
she halted, to get breath and look into the room. The sight she
witnessed froze the old woman in horror to where she stood. A woman was
in the room. She knelt over the body of the child, which now and again
writhed in the hard and cruel grasp. The queer monotonous voice went
on--"Ah! To think you might grow up like your father. The wicked,
unprincipled man! To sell the Ojo[u]san for a street whore, for her to
spend her life in such vile servitude; she by whose kindness this
household has lived. Many the visits in the past two years paid these
humble rooms by the lady of Tamiya. To all her neighbours O'Taki has
pointed out and bragged of the favour of the Ojo[u]san. The very
clothing now on your wretched puny body came from her hands. While
Cho[u]bei spent his gains in drink and paid women, Taki was nourished by
the rice from Tamiya. When Taki lay in of this tiny body it was the
Ojo[u]san who furnished aid, and saw that child and mother could live.
Alas! That you should grow up to be like this villainous man is not to
be endured.... Ah! An idea! To crunch your throat, to secure revenge and
peace, security against the future." She bent down low over the child.
Suddenly it gave a fearful scream, as does a child fallen into the fire.
The Baba, helpless, could only feebly murmur--"Nesan! Nesan! O'Taki San!
What are you about? Control yourself." She gave a frightened yowl as the
creature began to spread far apart the child's limbs, and with quick
rips of the sharp kitchen knife beside her dissevered and tore the
little limbs from the quivering body. At the cry the woman turned half
around and looked toward he