LETTER X.—(_Completed_.)

Shops and Shopping—The Barber’s Shop—A Paper Waterproof—Ito’s

Vanity—Preparations for the Journey—Transport and Prices—Money and

Measurements.

I HAVE had to do a little shopping in Hachiishi for my journey. The

shop-fronts, you must understand, are all open, and at the height of the

floor, about two feet from the ground, there is a broad ledge of polished

wood on which you sit down. A woman everlastingly boiling water on a

bronze _hibachi_, or brazier, shifting the embers about deftly with brass

tongs like chopsticks, and with a baby looking calmly over her shoulders,

is the shopwoman; but she remains indifferent till she imagines that you

have a definite purpose of buying, when she comes forward bowing to the

ground, and I politely rise and bow too. Then I or Ito ask the price of

a thing, and she names it, very likely asking 4s. for what ought to sell

at 6d. You say 3s., she laughs and says 3s. 6d.; you say 2s., she laughs

again and says 3s., offering you the _tabako-bon_. Eventually the matter

is compromised by your giving her 1s., at which she appears quite

delighted. With a profusion of bows and “_sayo naras_” on each side, you

go away with the pleasant feeling of having given an industrious woman

twice as much as the thing was worth to her, and less than what it is

worth to you!

There are several barbers’ shops, and the evening seems a very busy time

with them. This operation partakes of the general want of privacy of the

life of the village, and is performed in the raised open front of the

shop. Soap is not used, and the process is a painful one. The victims

let their garments fall to their waists, and each holds in his left hand

a lacquered tray to receive the croppings. The ugly Japanese face at

this time wears a most grotesque expression of stolid resignation as it

is held and pulled about by the operator, who turns it in all directions,

that he may judge of the effect that he is producing. The shaving the

face till it is smooth and shiny, and the cutting, waxing, and tying of

the queue with twine made of paper, are among the evening sights of

Nikkô.

Lacquer and things curiously carved in wood are the great attractions of

the shops, but they interest me far less than the objects of utility in

Japanese daily life, with their ingenuity of contrivance and perfection

of adaptation and workmanship. A seed shop, where seeds are truly

idealised, attracts me daily. Thirty varieties are offered for sale, as

various in form as they are in colour, and arranged most artistically on

stands, while some are put up in packages decorated with what one may

call a facsimile of the root, leaves, and flower, in water-colours. A

lad usually lies on the mat behind executing these very creditable

pictures—for such they are—with a few bold and apparently careless

strokes with his brush. He gladly sold me a peony as a scrap for a

screen for 3 _sen_. My purchases, with this exception, were necessaries

only—a paper waterproof cloak, “a circular,” black outside and yellow

inside, made of square sheets of oiled paper cemented together, and some

large sheets of the same for covering my baggage; and I succeeded in

getting Ito out of his obnoxious black wide-awake into a basin-shaped hat

like mine, for, ugly as I think him, he has a large share of personal

vanity, whitens his teeth, and powders his face carefully before a

mirror, and is in great dread of sunburn. He powders his hands too, and

polishes his nails, and never goes out without gloves.

To-morrow I leave luxury behind and plunge into the interior, hoping to

emerge somehow upon the Sea of Japan. No information can be got here

except about the route to Niigata, which I have decided not to take, so,

after much study of Brunton’s map, I have fixed upon one place, and have

said positively, “I go to Tajima.” If I reach it I can get farther, but

all I can learn is, “It’s a very bad road, it’s all among the mountains.”

Ito, who has a great regard for his own comforts, tries to dissuade me

from going by saying that I shall lose mine, but, as these kind people

have ingeniously repaired my bed by doubling the canvas and lacing it

into holes in the side poles, {79} and as I have lived for the last three

days on rice, eggs, and coarse vermicelli about the thickness and colour

of earth-worms, this prospect does not appal me! In Japan there is a

Land Transport Company, called _Riku-un-kaisha_, with a head-office in

Tôkiyô, and branches in various towns and villages. It arranges for the

transport of travellers and merchandise by pack-horses and coolies at

certain fixed rates, and gives receipts in due form. It hires the horses

from the farmers, and makes a moderate profit on each transaction, but

saves the traveller from difficulties, delays, and extortions. The

prices vary considerably in different districts, and are regulated by the

price of forage, the state of the roads, and the number of hireable

horses. For a _ri_, nearly 2½ miles, they charge from 6 to 10 _sen_ for

a horse and the man who leads it, for a _kuruma_ with one man from 4 to 9

_sen_ for the same distance, and for baggage coolies about the same.

[This Transport Company is admirably organised. I employed it in

journeys of over 1200 miles, and always found it efficient and reliable.]

I intend to make use of it always, much against Ito’s wishes, who

reckoned on many a prospective “squeeze” in dealings with the farmers.

My journey will now be entirely over “unbeaten tracks,” and will lead

through what may be called “Old Japan;” and as it will be natural to use

Japanese words for money and distances, for which there are no English

terms, I give them here. A _yen_ is a note representing a dollar, or

about 3s. 7d. of our money; a _sen_ is something less than a halfpenny; a

_rin_ is a thin round coin of iron or bronze, with a square hole in the

middle, of which 10 make a _sen_, and 1000 a _yen_; and a _tempo_ is a

handsome oval bronze coin with a hole in the centre, of which 5 make 4

_sen_. Distances are measured by _ri_, _chô_, and _ken_. Six feet make

one _ken_, sixty _ken_ one _chô_, and thirty-six _chô_ one _ri_, or

nearly 2½ English miles. When I write of a road I mean a bridle-path

from four to eight feet wide, _kuruma_ roads being specified as such.

Unbeaten Tracks in Japan · 第 28 / 127 题