When a Ninko comes to your house at night and knocks, there is a
peculiar muffled sound about the knocking by which you can tell that
the visitor is a fox--if you have experienced ears. For a fox knocks at
doors with its tail. If you open, then you will see a man, or perhaps
a beautiful girl, who will talk to you only in fragments of words, but
nevertheless in such a way that you can perfectly well understand. A fox
cannot pronounce a whole word, but a part only--as 'Nish... Sa...'
for 'Nishida-San'; 'degoz...' for 'degozarimasu, or 'uch... de...?' for 'uchi desuka?' Then, if you are a friend of foxes, the visitor
will present you with a little gift of some sort, and at once vanish
away into the darkness. Whatever the gift may be, it will seem much
larger that night than in the morning. Only a part of a fox-gift is
real.
A Matsue shizoku, going home one night by way of the street called
Horomachi, saw a fox running for its life pursued by dogs. He beat the
dogs off with his umbrella, thus giving the fox a chance to escape.
On the following evening he heard some one knock at his door, and on
opening the to saw a very pretty girl standing there, who said to him:
'Last night I should have died but for your august kindness. I know not
how to thank you enough: this is only a pitiable little present. And she
laid a small bundle at his feet and went away. He opened the bundle and
found two beautiful ducks and two pieces of silver money--those
long, heavy, leaf-shaped pieces of money--each worth ten or twelve
dollars--such as are now eagerly sought for by collectors of antique
things. After a little while, one of the coins changed before his eyes
into a piece of grass; the other was always good.
Sugitean-San, a physician of Matsue, was called one evening to attend a
case of confinement at a house some distance from the city, on the hill
called Shiragayama. He was guided by a servant carrying a paper lantern
painted with an aristocratic crest. [13] He entered into a magnificent
house, where he was received with superb samurai courtesy. The mother
was safely delivered of a fine boy. The family treated the physician
to an excellent dinner, entertained him elegantly, and sent him home,
loaded with presents and money. Next day he went, according to Japanese
etiquette, to return thanks to his hosts. He could not find the house:
there was, in fact, nothing on Shiragayama except forest. Returning
home, he examined again the gold which had been paid to him. All was
good except one piece, which had changed into grass.