irl, a
woman of the town, wearing clothes belonging neither to maid nor wife,
that he makes the central figure of his story; and by her constancy to
ideal things, her pure and simple passion, he thrills us through with
the sense of the impermanence of humanity and beauty, and the strength
of love overcoming and conquering the tragedy of life.

How different the manner in which he treats the scenes between the young
man and the beautiful dancing-girl, compared to the manner in which his
French prototypes--in which Pierre Loti, for instance, whom Hearn
declares to be one of the greatest living artists--would have treated
it. Far ahead has he passed beyond them; the moral, the life of the
soul, is never lost sight of, in not one line does he play on the lower
emotions of his readers.

A young artist was travelling on foot over the mountains from Kyoto to
Yeddo, and lost his way.... He had almost resigned himself to passing
the night under the stars, when, down the farther slope of the hill, a
single thin yellow ray of light fell upon the darkness. Making his way
towards it, he found that it was a small cottage, apparently a peasant's
house.... Not until he had knocked and called several times, did he hear
any stir. At last, however, a feminine voice asked what he wanted. He
told her, and after a brief delay the storm doors were pushed open and a
woman appeared with a paper lantern. She scrutinised him in silence, and
then said briefly, "Wait, I will bring water." Having washed from his
feet the dust of travel, he was shown into a neat room, and a brazier
was set before him, and a cotton _zabuton_ for him to kneel upon. He was
struck by the beauty of his hostess, as well as by her goodness, when
she told him that he might stay there that night.... "I will have no
time to sleep to-night," she said, "therefore you can have my bed and
paper mosquito curtain."

After he had slept a while, the mysterious sound of feet moving rapidly
fell upon his ears; he slipped out of bed, and creeping to the edge of
the screen, peeped through. There before her illuminated _Butsudan_, he
saw the young woman dancing. Turning suddenly she met his eyes, but
before he had time to speak, she smiled: "You must have thought me mad
when you saw me dancing, and I am not angry with you for trying to find
out what I was doing." Then she went on to tell him how a youth and she
had fallen in love with one another, and how they had gone away and
built th