Ōsaka is the great commercial school of the empire. From all parts of
Japan lads are sent there to learn particular branches of industry
or trade. There are hosts of applications for any vacancy; and the
business men are said to be very cautious in choosing their _detchi,_
or apprentice-clerks. Careful inquiries are made as to the personal
character and family history of applicants. No money is paid by the
parents or relatives of the apprentices. The term of service varies
according to the nature of the trade or industry; but it is generally
quite as long as the term of apprenticeship in Europe; and in some
branches of business it may be from twelve to fourteen years. Such,
I am told, is the time of service usually exacted in the dry goods
business; and the detchi in a dry goods house may have to work fifteen
hours a day, with not more than one holiday a month. During the whole
of his apprenticeship he receives no wages whatever,--nothing but
his board, lodging, and absolutely necessary clothing. His master is
supposed to furnish him with two robes a year, and to keep him in
sandals, or geta. Perhaps on some great holiday he may be presented
with a small gift of pocket money;--but this is not in the bond. When
his term of service ends, however, his master either gives him capital
enough to begin trade for himself on a small scale, or finds some
other way of assisting him substantially,--by credit, for instance.
Many detchi marry their employers' daughters, in which event the young
couple are almost sure of getting a good start in life.
The discipline of these long apprenticeships may be considered a severe
test of character. Though a detchi is never addressed harshly, he has
to bear what no European clerk would bear. He has no leisure,--no time
of his own except the time necessary for sleep; he must work quietly
but steadily from dawn till late in the evening; he must content
himself with the simplest diet, must keep himself neat, and must never
show ill-temper. Wild oats he is not supposed to have, and no chance is
given him to sow them. Some detchi never even leave their shop, night
or day, for months at a time,--sleeping on the same mats where they
sit in business hours. The trained salesmen in the great silk stores
are especially confined within doors,--and their unhealthy pallor is
proverbial. Year after year they squat in the same place, for twelve or
fifteen hours every day; and you wonder why their legs do not fall off,
like those of Daruma.[1]
Occasionally there are moral break-downs. Perhaps a detchi
misappropriates some of the shop money, and spends the same in riotous
living. Perhaps he does even worse. But, whatever the matter may be,
he seldom thinks of running away. If he takes a spree, he hides himself
after it for a day or two;--then returns of his own accord to confess,
and ask pardon. He will be forgiven for two, three, perhaps even four
escapades,--provided that he shows no signs of a really evil heart,
-and be lectured about his weakness in its relation to his prospects,
to the feelings of his family, to the honor of his ancestors, and to
business requirements in general. The difficulties of his position are
kindly considered, and he is never discharged for a small misdemeanor.
A dismissal would probably ruin him for life; and every care is taken
to open his eyes to certain dangers. Ōsaka is really the most unsafe
place in Japan to play the fool in;--its dangerous and vicious classes
are more to be feared than those of the capital; and the daily news of
the great city furnishes the apprentice with terrible examples of men
reduced to poverty or driven to self-destruction through neglect of
those very rules of conduct which it is part of his duty to learn.
In cases where detchi are taken into service at a very early age, and
brought up in the shop almost like adopted sons, a very strong bond
of affection between master and apprentice is sometimes established.
Instances of extraordinary devotion to masters, or members of masters'
households, are often reported. Sometimes the bankrupt merchant is
reëstablished in business by his former clerk. Sometimes, again, the
affection of a detchi may exhibit itself in strange extremes. Last
year there was a curious case. The only son of a merchant--a lad of
twelve--died of cholera during the epidemic. A detchi of fourteen, who
had been much attached to the dead boy, committed suicide shortly after
the funeral by throwing himself down in front of a train. He left a
letter, of which the following is a tolerably close translation,--the
selfish pronouns being absent in the original:
_"Very long time in, august help received;--honorable mercy even, not
in words to be declared. Now going to die, unfaithful in excess;--yet
another state in, making rebirth, honorable mercy will repay. Spirit
anxious only in the matter of little sister O-Noto;--with humble
salutation, that she be honorably seen to, supplicate._
_"To the August Lord Master,_
_"From_
_"MANO YOSHIMATSU."_
[Footnote 1: In Japanese popular legend, Daruma (Bodhidharma), the
great Buddhist patriarch and missionary, is said to have lost his legs
during a meditation which lasted uninterruptedly for nine years. A
common child's toy is a comical figure of Daruma, without legs, and so
weighted within that, no matter how thrown down, it will always assume
an upright position.]