A FEAST OF BLOSSOMS
"The cherry blossoms are here, so says the paper this morning,"
announced Mr. Harding as the girls came down to breakfast one day in
April.
"The paper says so? What do you mean?" said Eleanor.
"It is so important an event, my dear, that the papers always spread
the news abroad," her brother told her. "There will be great doings and
we must not miss them."
"Well, I am sure I am pleased to see something more than temples and
shrines and such old stuff," returned his sister. "What special form of
enticement can you offer us?"
"I was going to suggest a picnic. To be sure Uyeno Park will be crowded
with thousands of people who will take a lunch and go there to enjoy
the blossoms, but as we shall want to see the crowd as well as the
cherry trees we can be satisfied to become parvenu for once."
Eleanor laughed. "As if we never did anything but ride in coaches of
state and sit on a raised dais when we are at home. What do you say,
girls?" She turned to Mary Lee and Nan.
"It will be great," cried Nan enthusiastically, and Mary Lee agreed, if
less heartily.
"We might take a boat and go out on the river," Mr. Harding suggested.
"Ever so many persons do that; in fact, I don't know that the river
will be any less crowded than the shore; still we can keep a little
more to ourselves in a boat. You know the river Sumida's east bank
shows ranks of cherry trees which will exhibit finely from the river.
We can go ashore any time we like to see the people and can pick out
some good place to take a lunch. Would you rather we took a hamper
along or shall we depend upon a tea-house or inn or something like
that?" He turned to Nan.
The girls consulted together for a while and then gave it as their
decision that it would be best to take a hamper. "You see," said Nan,
"when there are such crowds it will be difficult to be properly served
and one may be starved before getting anything to eat."
"Most wisely concluded," approved Mr. Harding. "Well, we will talk it
over with the others and if they all want to do something else there
will be at least some of us to vote for the picnic."
But the others were quite satisfied with the arrangement although Mrs.
Craig at first proposed that they should return to the hotel for lunch.
This plan was so distinctly opposed that she laughingly gave in. "Oh,
dear, dear," she cried, "I wouldn't come back for the world. I am sorry
I spoke. I never met such a unanimity of opinion."
"We want to forget that there are such things as hotels, if we are
to appreciate the spirit of the Feast of Cherry Blossoms," declared
her nephew. "It is an outdoor festival entirely and doesn't mean
conventionality of any kind."
"Oh, very well, very well, I give in," replied his aunt, "but if Miss
Corner and I get tired of crowds and sharp sunlight and noise, you must
allow us the privilege of coming back when we feel like it."
"We shall not put the least restraint upon you," spoke up Eleanor.
"Neal and I are perfectly capable of chaperoning these two girls and
Mr. Montell, who, of course, will come, too; he has been talking about
the cherry blossoms ever since we came."
"I will go and call him up," said her brother, "and then, Nell, suppose
you and I have a secret session to talk over what is to be packed in
the hamper."
"You'd better let me have a word to say about that," spoke up Mrs.
Craig. "Eleanor doesn't know anything about what Tokyo can provide, and
I have had experience, plenty of it."
She was allowed to take part in the conference while the Corners went
off to write letters knowing there would be no further opportunity for
such things that day. However, the start was not made till nearly noon,
Mr. Montell appearing at the last moment, breathless and fearing lest
they had gone without him.
"Couldn't help it," he replied in answer to Mr. Harding's reproach.
"Had to get off some stuff in time for the mail steamer and sat up
nearly all night in order to get it done; it was a long story, and
simply had to be done. Awfully sorry."
"You haven't kept us waiting so very long, Mr. Montell," Eleanor told
him. "Neal, himself, wasn't on time."
"But I was detained at the office," explained Neal.
"Well, that is no better excuse than mine," retorted Mr. Montell.
"Here, here, stop your quarreling, you children," cried Mrs. Craig.
"You are wasting time. Is everything ready, Neal? Then come along." So
off they started to where the _jinrikishas_ were in waiting and it was
not long before they were afloat on the river Sumida, upon the top of
a flower-adorned pleasure boat from which they could see many other as
odd looking crafts, some of them bearing companies of singing girls.
"Isn't it a gay sight?" cried Nan. "It reminds me a little of a fête on
the Grand Canal at Venice, only there one sees no such flowers as these
and there is no such bright color among the costumes."
"It is stretching one's imagination rather far," said Mary Lee, "for I
don't see any resemblance except that there are boats and singing."
"You are so very literal," declared her sister. "I didn't mean that
it was exactly like, only that the spirit is the same and one gets
something the same feelings."
For a mile along the bank of the river the flowering trees extended
presenting an array of double blossoms under which the limbs were
bending. Unlike our own cherry blossoms these were of pale pink, and
against the blue sky looked like huge bouquets.
"I think the trees at Uyeno Park are really more beautiful," said Mrs.
Craig critically. "I think we shall have to see those to-morrow. The
blossoms do not last long and that is one reason of their attraction.
The Japanese admire very much the dropping petals and refer to it
often in their poetry. You see it, too, in their decorations. The
double blossoms which you see here do not mean fruit after a while, for
even the cherries of the single blossoms are not of much account, far
inferior to ours."
"Isn't it so with most of the fruit here?" asked Mary Lee.
"With most, yes, although there is a small orange that is pretty good,
and one can get quite nice figs. They raise small fruits, too, which
are not half bad, but our American markets supply much better things
than one can get here."
Nevertheless when the lunch hamper was opened, there was such a display
of food as might be seen on a similar occasion at home.
"Hard-boiled eggs," cried Nan, peering into the basket. "Now I do feel
as if I were really on a picnic. Chicken salad, is that? Good. I feel
more and more at home. What else is there? Candied ginger, sardines and
crackers, cheese, imported of course. I think this is doing pretty well
for a foreign land. I observe you have some of those nice little rice
cakes as a native production and--a bottle of wine, as I live."
"It is considered a flagrant omission if one doesn't taste wine at this
special festival," explained Mr. Montell. "The natives indulge in
their _saké_ or rice-wine almost too freely, but I observe that Harding
has been careful to observe moderation and has furnished only a very
light variety which will hurt no one."
"Well," said Miss Helen, "I don't see that we have anything to complain
of and are to be congratulated upon having so wise and efficient a
caterer as Mr. Harding."
"Oh, don't lay it to my door," protested the young man. "Nell suggested
the eggs and Aunt Nora a lot of the other things."
It was a merry little party which enjoyed their luncheon in sight of
the flowering trees and within sound of many merrymakers strumming on
_samisens_, singing in queer strident voices perfectly unintelligible
songs and, once in a while, getting a little too uproarious over their
gourds of _saké_.
"They have flower festivals right along through the year, don't they?"
said Eleanor. "What will be the next to come?"
"The wistaria," Mr. Montell told her. "A good place to see those
flowers is at the temple of Kameido, here at Tokyo, I am told. It is
believed that the vines of wistaria flourish better if wine is poured
upon their roots and so many a drop is allowed to trickle from the
wine-cups used there."
"After the wistaria, what?" inquired Mary Lee.
"The iris. Where's a good place to find those, Neal?" Mr. Montell
turned to his friend.
"Just right here close to this river, at a place called Horikiri. It is
a great sight to see the crowds on the river then. The flower blooms
in June in what is the rainy season, but there are opportunities of
getting out between drops. After the iris come the midsummer flowers,
the peony and the lotus. The lotus has a religious significance and is
specially dedicated to the water goddess Benten whose temple we are
going to see at Enoshima. Of course we know the chrysanthemum comes in
the fall; it is made much of because it is about the last flower of
the year. Many think it the national flower, but the cherry blossom
is really that, although the chrysanthemum is honored at court and a
magnificent show is given every year in the palace gardens. The royal
bird of Japan is the crane as you may have guessed for you so often see
it in decorations."
"Isn't it interesting?" whispered Nan to her aunt, "and don't you wish
we had sentiment enough to do such things at home? Is the chrysanthemum
the very last flower festival of the year?" She turned to ask Mr.
Harding.
"Oh, no; at least I should say that with slight modification. The Maple
Festival is the last, but that is not exactly a flower festival; it
is given at the time when the maple leaves show their most brilliant
colors. Other trees turn at the same time and it is the time for
picnics and for gathering mushrooms which is made a jollification. You
make up a party to gather mushrooms in the country and you enjoy the
autumn foliage at the same time."
"What fun! I am going to organize just such a sport when I go home,"
declared Nan.
Luncheon over, they all decided to join the crowd on the banks of the
river. Nan found herself by Mr. Harding's side as they joined the
throng of revelers. "I want to tell you about a princess of the old
days," he said. "She was not a reasonable young person and declared
that she was going to give a cherry-blossom party although the month
was December. As a princess must have anything she desired, the court
was in despair till some one hit upon a happy plan. The result was that
an army of workers was set about making paper blossoms, pink and white,
which were fastened on the bare trees and gave so realistic a look to
them that the garden party was a great success."
"Where could that happen but in Japan?" said Nan, pleased with the
tale. "They make paper flowers so wonderfully that I can imagine the
effect was all that could be desired. I have but one thing against
these really fascinating people, and that is their music. Did you ever
hear anything so dreadful as that singing, for instance?"
"Yet I have heard some little songs which were quite lovely. There is a
lullaby which I recall, and which I am sure you will agree is as tender
and plaintive as anything we could produce. If I had my violin here I
could show you how it goes."
"Oh, do you play the violin?" Nan asked eagerly.
"Yes, a little, and you play the piano very well."
"Nell told you that, of course. I don't play anywhere near as well as I
want to, but I do enjoy it. Is your violin here, and can't you play for
us some time?"
"I have it at my rooms, but please don't think I am anything of a
musician although my violin is a great solace to me. When my aunt gets
back to her own house we must have some music. She has a piano there,
you know."
Nan gave a sigh of pleasure. "I didn't realize how I missed my music
till you began to talk about it," she said. "Even Japan has some
disadvantages."
"But doesn't one enjoy a thing all the more after he has been deprived
of it a while? We can make but one prayer to Kwannon, you remember, and
I suppose that means that we should not ask too much of heaven."
Nan's eyes looked starry and bright as they always did when she was
deeply interested. "I liked Kwannon," she said, "but I believe I liked
the great bronze Buddha better."
"I thought you did, and so I brought you a little souvenir to-day to
commemorate that visit to Kamakura." He drew from his pocket a very
small but exquisitely carved figure of the Buddha. It was of jade, and
was really a most beautiful piece of work.
"For me?" exclaimed Nan, as he gave it into her hand.
"If you will honor me by taking it. I thought you would like it as a
souvenir."
"I should love it, but I don't know if I ought----" She hesitated.
"To take it from your friend's brother? Why not? It is not such a
mighty gift."
"No," returned Nan doubtfully, "only it is so very beautifully done,
and is really a treasure. I am afraid I shall have to take it."
Mr. Harding laughed.
Nan grew confused. "Oh, please don't think I mean that I don't
appreciate it, for I do, very much. It is because I want so dreadfully
much to keep it that I was afraid I shouldn't."
"Then please don't have any more compunctions."
"I won't, and I thank you so much. I consider it one of my very
greatest and most valuable gifts."
"You will see so many more rare and beautiful things while you are here
that you will soon learn how insignificant this little souvenir is.
Isn't this a gay and happy crowd? Like a flock of bright butterflies,
isn't it? They all wear their very best on such a day."
"The children particularly. What gorgeous kimonos and _obis_ some of
them have, and how they do love flowers."
They wandered on, sometimes coming up to the rest of their party,
sometimes falling behind, and at last all returned to the boat for
another slow journey on the river, and at last to return to the hotel
well pleased with this first of their picnics in Japan.
The next day gave promise of rainy weather, and so they hurried to
the Uyeno Park to see the trees there, which were already shedding
their blossoms. These trees, it must be said, were more impressive in
size and showed, against a background of evergreen trees, to better
advantage than had those on the cherry avenue along the banks of the
river. They contrasted well, too, with the surroundings.
"And here," said Mr. Montell, "is where we hang verses on the trees, I
hope you all have yours ready."
There was a scramble for paper and pencils, and each one set about
the task of writing rhymes in order to follow out the pretty custom.
Presently Nan jumped up and waved her paper. "My ode is completed," she
cried.
"You might know Nan would be the first," remarked Eleanor. "Rhyming
always came as easy to her as rolling off a log. Let's see, Nan."
But Nan shook her head. "No, it might spoil the charm. I am going to
dispose of it at once." This she did, picking out a particularly lovely
tree whose low-hanging branches allowed her to reach up higher than
could most of the young Japanese maidens who had already followed the
custom.
"This is literally hanging one's verses in the wind as Emerson said,"
Nan remarked as she came back. "Who is next?"
There was no immediate answer but presently Mr. Harding left his place
and Nan, watching, saw that he had hung his paper by the side of hers.
"I don't see how he knew exactly which tree and which branch," she
said to herself, and was convinced that he must have watched her very
closely.
In due time the little poems were all tied in place and then Mrs. Craig
declared that it was time to go. It was always a temptation to stop
at some of the many curio shops on the way, but this time they were
carried to their destination without any delay for it was beginning
to rain, and although they were well sheltered by the curtains of the
_jinrikishas_, they did not fancy being caught out in a downpour.
That night Nan took out her little jade figure and showed it to Mary
Lee, telling of having been given it by Mr. Harding.
"It seems to me you have a case," declared Mary Lee. "Nobody has taken
the trouble to pick me out a souvenir as fine as that."
"Perhaps some one will," returned Nan nonchalantly. "Don't you think
this is a particularly good piece of carving? I was always crazy about
jade and I am pleased beyond words to have this. I felt awkward about
taking it at first because it is really valuable."
"Or would be at home. No doubt one can pick up such things here for
very little, that is if one knows where to go."
That eased Nan's conscience and she put away the small charm without
further qualms.
They had been in bed some time when from Mary Lee came the question,
"Do you ever hear from Rob Powell, Nan?"
"I haven't heard for some time," returned Nan.
"Does he know you are here?"
"I don't think so, unless Rita has told him."
"Who wrote last, you or Rob?"
"He did, I believe."
"Nan Corner, I believe you have turned him down, yet you used to like
Rob."
"I liked him very much but I was never in love with him, if that is
what you mean."
"You used to talk about him a lot."
"Probably because I wasn't in love with him."
Mary Lee turned this speech over in her mind and decided that when Nan
began to talk about Neal Harding a great deal she might take it for
granted that there was no sentiment on Nan's side in that quarter. That
Neal was strongly attracted to Nan she required not much perspicuity
to see, and Mary Lee determined that she would keep her eyes open and,
what was more, she would make a study of the young man, for it would be
hard for any one to be found quite good enough for this eldest of the
four Corners, the others thought. "If it gets very serious I will talk
to Aunt Helen about it," decided Mary Lee, and with this thought in her
mind, she glided into the land of dreams.
[Illustration: CHAPTER VIII
FLYING FISH]