Then Jiuyémon, looking at them both with a scornful smile, said--

"It seems that you, neither of you, care to eat this macaroni;

however, as you, Takaségawa, are unwell, I will give you some

excellent medicine;" and going to the cupboard, he drew out the

letter, and laid it before the wrestler. When O Hiyaku and the

wrestler saw that their wicked schemes had been brought to light, they

were struck dumb with shame.

Takaségawa, seeing that denial was useless, drew his dirk and cut at

Jiuyémon; but he, being nimble and quick, dived under the wrestler's

arm, and seizing his right hand from behind, tightened his grasp upon

it until it became numbed, and the dirk fell to the ground; for,

powerful man as the wrestler was, he was no match for Jiuyémon, who

held him in so fast a grip that he could not move. Then Jiuyémon took

the dirk which had fallen to the ground, and said:--

"Oh! I thought that you, being a wrestler, would at least be a strong

man, and that there would be some pleasure in fighting you; but I see

that you are but a poor feckless creature, after all. It would have

defiled my sword to have killed such an ungrateful hound with it; but

luckily here is your own dirk, and I will slay you with that."

Takaségawa struggled to escape, but in vain; and O Hiyaku, seizing a

large kitchen knife, attacked Jiuyémon; but he, furious, kicked her in

the loins so violently that she fell powerless, then brandishing the

dirk, he cleft the wrestler from the shoulder down to the nipple of

his breast, and the big man fell in his agony. O Hiyaku, seeing this,

tried to fly; but Jiuyémon, seizing her by the hair of the head,

stabbed her in the bosom, and, placing her by her lover's side, gave

her the death-blow.

[Illustration: JIUYÉMON PUNISHES HIS WIFE AND THE WRESTLER.]

On the following day, he sent in a report of what he had done to the

governor of Osaka, and buried the corpses; and from that time forth he

remained a single man, and pursued his trade as a seller of perfumery

and such-like wares; and his leisure hours he continued to spend as

before, at the house of his patron, Kajiki Tozayémon.

One day, when Jiuyémon went to call upon Kajiki Tozayémon, he was told

by the servant-maid, who met him at the door, that her master was out,

but that her young master, Tônoshin, was at home; so, saying that he

would go in and pay his respects to the young gentleman, he entered

the house; and as he suddenly pushed open the sliding-door of the room

in which Tônoshin was sitting, the latter gave a great start, and his

face turned pale and ghastly.

"How now, young sir!" said Jiuyémon, laughing at him, "surely you are

not such a coward as to be afraid because the sliding-doors are

opened? That is not the way in which a brave Samurai should behave."

"Really I am quite ashamed of myself," replied the other, blushing at

the reproof; "but the fact is that I had some reason for being

startled. Listen to me, Sir Jiuyémon, and I will tell you all about

it. To-day, when I went to the academy to study, there were a great

number of my fellow-students gathered together, and one of them said

that a ruinous old shrine, about two miles and a half to the east of

this place, was the nightly resort of all sorts of hobgoblins, who

have been playing pranks and bewitching the people for some time

past; and he proposed that we should all draw lots, and that the one

upon whom the lot fell should go to-night and exorcise those evil

beings; and further that, as a proof of his having gone, he should

write his name upon a pillar in the shrine. All the rest agreed that

this would be very good sport; so I, not liking to appear a coward,

consented to take my chance with the rest; and, as ill luck would

have it, the lot fell upon me. I was thinking over this as you came

in, and so it was that when you suddenly opened the door, I could not

help giving a start."

"If you only think for a moment," said Jiuyémon, "you will see that

there is nothing to fear. How can beasts[45] and hobgoblins exercise

any power over men? However, do not let the matter trouble you. I will

go in your place to-night, and see if I cannot get the better of these

goblins, if any there be, having done which, I will write your name

upon the pillar, so that everybody may think that you have been

there."

[Footnote 45: Foxes, badgers, and cats. See the stories respecting

their tricks.]

"Oh! thank you: that will indeed be a service. You can dress yourself

up in my clothes, and nobody will be the wiser. I shall be truly

grateful to you."

So Jiuyémon having gladly undertaken the job, as soon as the night set

in made his preparations, and went to the place indicated--an

uncanny-looking, tumble-down, lonely old shrine, all overgrown with

moss and rank vegetation. However, Jiuyémon, who was afraid of

nothing, cared little for the appearance of the place, and having made

himself as comfortable as he could in so dreary a spot, sat down on

the floor, lit his pipe, and kept a sharp look-out for the goblins. He

had not been waiting long before he saw a movement among the bushes;

and presently he was surrounded by a host of elfish-looking creatures,

of all shapes and kinds, who came and made hideous faces at him.

Jiuyémon quietly knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and then, jumping

up, kicked over first one and then another of the elves, until several

of them lay sprawling in the grass; and the rest made off, greatly

astonished at this unexpected reception. When Jiuyémon took his

lantern and examined the fallen goblins attentively, he saw that they

were all Tônoshin's fellow-students, who had painted their faces, and

made themselves hideous, to frighten their companion, whom they knew

to be a coward: all they got for their pains, however, was a good

kicking from Jiuyémon, who left them groaning over their sore bones,

and went home chuckling to himself at the result of the adventure.

[Illustration: FUNAKOSHI JIUYÉMON AND THE GOBLINS.]

The fame of this exploit soon became noised about Osaka, so that all

men praised Jiuyémon's courage; and shortly after this he was elected

chief of the Otokodaté,[46] or friendly society of the wardsmen, and

busied himself no longer with his trade, but lived on the

contributions of his numerous apprentices.

[Footnote 46: See the Introduction to the Story of Chôbei of

Bandzuin.]

Now Kajiki Tônoshin was in love with a singing girl named Kashiku,

upon whom he was in the habit of spending a great deal of money. She,

however, cared nothing for him, for she had a sweetheart named

Hichirobei, whom she used to contrive to meet secretly, although, in

order to support her parents, she was forced to become the mistress of

Tônoshin. One evening, when the latter was on guard at the office of

his chief, the Governor of Osaka, Kashiku sent word privately to

Hichirobei, summoning him to go to her house, as the coast would be

clear.

While the two were making merry over a little feast, Tônoshin, who had

persuaded a friend to take his duty for him on the plea of urgent

business, knocked at the door, and Kashiku, in a great fright, hid her

lover in a long clothes-box, and went to let in Tônoshin, who, on

entering the room and seeing the litter of the supper lying about,

looked more closely, and perceived a man's sandals, on which, by the

light of a candle, he saw the figure seven.[47] Tônoshin had heard

some ugly reports of Kashiku's proceedings with this man Hichirobei,

and when he saw this proof before his eyes he grew very angry; but he

suppressed his feelings, and, pointing to the wine-cups and bowls,

said:--

"Whom have you been feasting with to-night?"

"Oh!" replied Kashiku, who, notwithstanding her distress, was obliged

to invent an answer, "I felt so dull all alone here, that I asked an

old woman from next door to come in and drink a cup of wine with me,

and have a chat."

[Footnote 47: _Hichi_, the first half of _Hichirobei_, signifies

seven.]

All this while Tônoshin was looking for the hidden lover; but, as he

could not see him, he made up his mind that Kashiku must have let him

out by the back door; so he secreted one of the sandals in his sleeve

as evidence, and, without seeming to suspect anything, said:--

"Well, I shall be very busy this evening, so I must go home."

"Oh! won't you stay a little while? It is very dull here, when I am

all alone without you. Pray stop and keep me company."

But Tônoshin made no reply, and went home. Then Kashiku saw that one

of the sandals was missing, and felt certain that he must have carried

it off as proof; so she went in great trouble to open the lid of the

box, and let out Hichirobei. When the two lovers talked over the

matter, they agreed that, as they both were really in love, let

Tônoshin kill them if he would, they would gladly die together: they

would enjoy the present; let the future take care of itself.

The following morning Kashiku sent a messenger to Tônoshin to implore

his pardon; and he, being infatuated by the girl's charms, forgave

her, and sent a present of thirty ounces of silver to her lover,

Hichirobei, on the condition that he was never to see her again; but,

in spite of this, Kashiku and Hichirobei still continued their secret

meetings.

It happened that Hichirobei, who was a gambler by profession, had an

elder brother called Chôbei, who kept a wine-shop in the Ajikawa

Street, at Osaka; so Tônoshin thought that he could not do better than

depute Jiuyémon to go and seek out this man Chôbei, and urge him to

persuade his younger brother to give up his relations with Kashiku;

acting upon this resolution, he went to call upon Jiuyémon, and said

to him--

"Sir Jiuyémon, I have a favour to ask of you in connection with that

girl Kashiku, whom you know all about. You are aware that I paid

thirty ounces of silver to her lover Hichirobei to induce him to give

up going to her house; but, in spite of this, I cannot help suspecting

that they still meet one another. It seems that this Hichirobei has an

elder brother--one Chôbei; now, if you would go to this man and tell

him to reprove his brother for his conduct, you would be doing me a

great service. You have so often stood my friend, that I venture to

pray you to oblige me in this matter, although I feel that I am

putting you to great inconvenience."

Jiuyémon, out of gratitude for the kindness which he had received at

the hands of Kajiki Tozayémon, was always willing to serve Tônoshin;

so he went at once to find out Chôbei, and said to him--

"My name, sir, is Jiuyémon, at your service; and I have come to beg

your assistance in a matter of some delicacy."

"What can I do to oblige you, sir?" replied Chôbei, who felt bound to

be more than usually civil, as his visitor was the chief of the

Otokodaté.

"It is a small matter, sir," said Jiuyémon. "Your younger brother

Hichirobei is intimate with a woman named Kashiku, whom he meets in

secret. Now, this Kashiku is the mistress of the son of a gentleman to

whom I am under great obligation: he bought her of her parents for a

large sum of money, and, besides this, he paid your brother thirty

ounces of silver some time since, on condition of his separating

himself from the girl; in spite of this, it appears that your brother

continues to see her, and I have come to beg that you will remonstrate

with your brother on his conduct, and make him give her up."

"That I certainly will. Pray do not be uneasy; I will soon find means

to put a stop to my brother's bad behaviour."

And so they went on talking of one thing and another, until Jiuyémon,

whose eyes had been wandering about the room, spied out a very long

dirk lying on a cupboard, and all at once it occurred to him that this

was the very sword which had been a parting gift to him from his lord:

the hilt, the mountings, and the tip of the scabbard were all the

same, only the blade had been shortened and made into a long dirk.

Then he looked more attentively at Chôbei's features, and saw that he

was no other than Akagôshi Kuroyémon, the pirate chief. Two years had

passed by, but he could not forget that face.

Jiuyémon would have liked to have arrested him at once; but thinking

that it would be a pity to give so vile a robber a chance of escape,

he constrained himself, and, taking his leave, went straightway and

reported the matter to the Governor of Osaka. When the officers of

justice heard of the prey that awaited them, they made their

preparations forthwith. Three men of the secret police went to

Chôbei's wine-shop, and, having called for wine, pretended to get up a

drunken brawl; and as Chôbei went up to them and tried to pacify them,

one of the policemen seized hold of him, and another tried to pinion

him. It at once flashed across Chôbei's mind that his old misdeeds had

come to light at last, so with a desperate effort he shook off the two

policemen and knocked them down, and, rushing into the inner room,

seized the famous Sukésada sword and sprang upstairs. The three

policemen, never thinking that he could escape, mounted the stairs

close after him; but Chôbei with a terrible cut cleft the front man's

head in sunder, and the other two fell back appalled at their

comrade's fate. Then Chôbei climbed on to the roof, and, looking out,

perceived that the house was surrounded on all sides by armed men.

Seeing this, he made up his mind that his last moment was come, but,

at any rate, he determined to sell his life dearly, and to die

fighting; so he stood up bravely, when one of the officers, coming up

from the roof of a neighbouring house, attacked him with a spear; and

at the same time several other soldiers clambered up. Chôbei, seeing

that he was overmatched, jumped down, and before the soldiers below

had recovered from their surprise he had dashed through their ranks,

laying about him right and left, and cutting down three men. At top

speed he fled, with his pursuers close behind him; and, seeing the

broad river ahead of him, jumped into a small boat that lay moored

there, of which the boatmen, frightened at the sight of his bloody

sword, left him in undisputed possession. Chôbei pushed off, and

sculled vigorously into the middle of the river; and the

officers--there being no other boat near--were for a moment baffled.

One of them, however, rushing down the river bank, hid himself on a

bridge, armed with. a spear, and lay in wait for Chôbei to pass in his

boat; but when the little boat came up, he missed his aim, and only

scratched Chôbei's elbow; and he, seizing the spear, dragged down his

adversary into the river, and killed him as he was struggling in the

water; then, sculling for his life, he gradually drew near to the sea.

The other officers in the mean time had secured ten boats, and, having

come up with Chôbei, surrounded him; but he, having formerly been a

pirate, was far better skilled in the management of a boat than his

pursuers, and had no great difficulty in eluding them; so at last he

pushed out to sea, to the great annoyance of the officers, who

followed him closely.

Then Jiuyémon, who had come up, said to one of the officers on the

shore--

"Have you caught him yet?"

"No; the fellow is so brave and so cunning that our men can do nothing

with him."

"He's a determined ruffian, certainly. However, as the fellow has got

my sword, I mean to get it back by fair means or foul: will you allow

me to undertake the job of seizing him?"

"Well, you may try; and you will have officers to assist you, if you

are in peril."

Jiuyémon, having received this permission, stripped off his clothes

and jumped into the sea, carrying with him a policeman's mace, to the

great astonishment of all the bystanders. When he got near Chôbei's

boat, he dived and came up alongside, without the pirate perceiving

him until he had clambered into the boat. Chôbei had the good Sukésada

sword, and Jiuyémon was armed with nothing but a mace; but Chôbei, on

the other hand, was exhausted with his previous exertions, and was

taken by surprise at a moment when he was thinking of nothing but how

he should scull away from the pursuing boats; so it was not long

before Jiuyémon mastered and secured him.

For this feat, besides recovering his Sukésada sword, Jiuyémon

received many rewards and great praise from the Governor of Osaka. But

the pirate Chôbei was cast into prison.

Hichirobei, when he heard of his brother's capture, was away from

home; but seeing that he too would be sought for, he determined to

escape to Yedo at once, and travelled along the Tôkaidô, the great

highroad, as far as Kuana. But the secret police had got wind of his

movements, and one of them was at his heels disguised as a beggar, and

waiting for an opportunity to seize him.

Hichirobei in the meanwhile was congratulating himself on his escape;

and, little suspecting that he would be in danger so far away from

Osaka, he went to a house of pleasure, intending to divert himself at

his ease. The policeman, seeing this, went to the master of the house

and said--

"The guest who has just come in is a notorious thief, and I am on his

track, waiting to arrest him. Do you watch for the moment when he

falls asleep, and let me know. Should he escape, the blame will fall

upon you."

The master of the house, who was greatly taken aback, consented of

course; so he told the woman of the house to hide Hichirobei's dirk,

and as soon as the latter, wearied with his journey, had fallen

asleep, he reported it to the policeman, who went upstairs, and having

bound Hichirobei as he lay wrapped up in his quilt, led him back to

Osaka to be imprisoned with his brother.

When Kashiku became aware of her lover's arrest, she felt certain that

it was the handiwork of Jiuyémon; so she determined to kill him, were

it only that she might die with Hichirobei. So hiding a kitchen knife

in the bosom of her dress, she went at midnight to Jiuyémon's house,

and looked all round to see if there were no hole or cranny by which

she might slip in unobserved; but every door was carefully closed, so

she was obliged to knock at the door and feign an excuse.

"Let me in! let me in! I am a servant-maid in the house of Kajiki

Tozayémon, and am charged with a letter on most pressing business to

Sir Jiuyémon."

Hearing this, one of Jiuyémon's servants, thinking her tale was true,

rose and opened the door; and Kashiku, stabbing him in the face, ran

past him into the house. Inside she met another apprentice, who had

got up, aroused by the noise; him too she stabbed in the belly, but as

he fell he cried out to Jiuyémon, saying:--

"Father, father![48] take care! Some murderous villain has broken into

the house."

[Footnote 48: The apprentice addresses his patron as "father."]

[Illustration: "GOKUMON."]

And Kashiku, desperate, stopped his further utterance by cutting his

throat. Jiuyémon, hearing his apprentice cry out, jumped up, and,

lighting his night-lamp, looked about him in the half-gloom, and saw

Kashiku with the bloody knife, hunting for him that she might kill

him. Springing upon her before she saw him, he clutched her right

hand, and, having secured her, bound her with cords so that she could

not move. As soon as he had recovered from his surprise, he looked

about him, and searched the house, when, to his horror, he found one

of his apprentices dead, and the other lying bleeding from a frightful

gash across the face. With the first dawn of day, he reported the

affair to the proper authorities, and gave Kashiku in custody. So,

after due examination, the two pirate brothers and the girl Kashiku

were executed, and their heads were exposed together.[49]

[Footnote 49: The exposure of the head, called _Gokumon_, is a

disgraceful addition to the punishment of beheading. A document,

placed on the execution-ground, sets forth the crime which has called

forth the punishment.]

Now the fame of all the valiant deeds of Jiuyémon having reached his

own country, his lord ordered that he should be pardoned for his

former offence, and return to his allegiance; so, after thanking

Kajiki Tozayémon for the manifold favours which he had received at his

hands, he went home, and became a Samurai as before.

* * * * *

The fat wrestlers of Japan, whose heavy paunches and unwieldy, puffy

limbs, however much they may be admired by their own country people,

form a striking contrast to our Western notions of training, have

attracted some attention from travellers; and those who are interested

in athletic sports may care to learn something about them.

The first historical record of wrestling occurs in the sixth year of

the Emperor Suinin (24 B.C.), when one Taima no Kéhaya, a noble of

great stature and strength, boasting that there was not his match

under heaven, begged the Emperor that his strength might be put to the

test. The Emperor accordingly caused the challenge to be proclaimed;

and one Nomi no Shikuné answered it, and having wrestled with Kéhaya,

kicked him in the ribs and broke his bones, so that he died. After

this Shikuné was promoted to high office, and became further famous in

Japanese history as having substituted earthen images for the living

men who, before his time, used to be buried with the coffin of the

Mikado.

In the year A.D. 858 the throne of Japan was wrestled for. The Emperor

Buntoku had two sons, called Koréshito and Korétaka, both of whom

aspired to the throne. Their claims were decided in a wrestling match,

in which one Yoshirô was the champion of Koréshito, and Natora the

champion of Korétaka. Natora having been defeated, Koréshito ascended

his father's throne under the style of Seiwa.

In the eighth century, when Nara was the capital of Japan, the Emperor

Shômu instituted wrestling as part of the ceremonies of the autumn

festival of the Five Grains, or Harvest Home; and as the year proved a

fruitful one, the custom was continued as auspicious. The strong men

of the various provinces were collected, and one Kiyobayashi was

proclaimed the champion of Japan. Many a brave and stout man tried a

throw with him, but none could master him. Rules of the ring were now

drawn up; and in order to prevent disputes, Kiyobayashi was appointed

by the Emperor to be the judge of wrestling-matches, and was

presented, as a badge of his office, with a fan, upon which were

inscribed the words the "Prince of Lions."

The wrestlers were divided into wrestlers of the eastern and of the

western provinces, Omi being taken as the centre province. The eastern

wrestlers wore in their hair the badge of the hollyhock; the western

wrestlers took for their sign the gourd-flower. Hence the passage

leading up to the wrestling-stage was called the "Flower Path."

Forty-eight various falls were fixed upon as fair--twelve throws,

twelve lifts, twelve twists, and twelve throws over the back. All

other throws not included in these were foul, and it was the duty of

the umpire to see that no unlawful tricks were resorted to. It was

decided that the covered stage should be composed of sixteen

rice-bales, in the shape of one huge bale, supported by four pillars

at the four points of the compass, each pillar being painted a

different colour, thus, together with certain paper pendants, making

up five colours, to symbolize the Five Grains.

[Illustration: CHAMPION WRESTLER.]

The civil wars by which the country was disturbed for a while put a

stop to the practice of wrestling; but when peace was restored it was

proposed to re-establish the athletic games, and the umpire

Kiyobayashi, the "Prince of Lions," was sought for; but he had died or

disappeared, and could not be found, and there was no umpire

forthcoming. The various provinces were searched for a man who might

fill his place, and one Yoshida Iyétsugu, a Rônin of the province of

Echizen, being reported to be well versed in the noble science, was

sent for to the capital, and proved to be a pupil of Kiyobayashi. The

Emperor, having approved him, ordered that the fan of the "Prince of

Lions" should be made over to him, and gave him the title of Bungo no

Kami, and commanded that his name in the ring should be Oi-Kazé, the

"Driving Wind." Further, as a sign that there should not be two

styles of wrestling, a second fan was given to him bearing the

inscription, "A single flavour is a beautiful custom." The right of

acting as umpire in wrestling-matches was vested in his family, that

the "Driving Wind" might for future generations preside over athletic

sports. In ancient days, the prizes for the three champion wrestlers

were a bow, a bowstring, and an arrow: these are still brought into

the ring, and, at the end of the bout, the successful competitors go

through a variety of antics with them.

To the champion wrestlers--to two or three men only in a

generation--the family of the "Driving Wind" awards the privilege of

wearing a rope-girdle. In the time of the Shogunate these champions

used to wrestle before the Shogun.

At the beginning of the 17th century (A.D. 1606) wrestling-matches, as

forming a regular part of a religious ceremony, were discontinued.

They are still held, however, at the shrines of Kamo, at Kiôto, and of

Kasuga, in Yamato. They are also held at Kamakura every year, and at

the shrines of the patron saints of the various provinces, in

imitation of the ancient customs.

In the year 1623 one Akashi Shiganosuké obtained leave from the

Government to hold public wrestling-matches in the streets of Yedo.

In the year 1644 was held the first wrestling-match for the purpose

of raising a collection for building a temple. This was done by

the priests of Kofukuji, in Yamashiro. In the year 1660 the same

expedient was resorted to in Yedo, and the custom of getting up

wrestling-matches for the benefit of temple funds holds good to this

day.

The following graphic description of a Japanese wrestling-match is

translated from the "Yedo Hanjôki":--

"From daybreak till eight in the morning a drum is beaten to announce

that there will be wrestling. The spectators rise early for the sight.

The adversaries having been settled, the wrestlers enter the ring from

the east and from the west. Tall stalwart men are they, with sinews

and bones of iron. Like the Gods Niô,[50] they stand with their arms

akimbo, and, facing one another, they crouch in their strength. The

umpire watches until the two men draw their breath at the same time,

and with his fan gives the signal. They jump up and close with one

another, like tigers springing on their prey, or dragons playing with

a ball. Each is bent on throwing the other by twisting or by lifting

him. It is no mere trial of brute strength; it is a tussle of skill

against skill. Each of the forty-eight throws is tried in turn. From

left to right, and from right to left, the umpire hovers about,

watching for the victory to declare itself. Some of the spectators

back the east, others back the west. The patrons of the ring are so

excited that they feel the strength tingling within them; they clench

their fists, and watch their men, without so much as blinking their

eyes. At last one man, east or west, gains the advantage, and the

umpire lifts his fan in token of victory. The plaudits of the

bystanders shake the neighbourhood, and they throw their clothes or

valuables into the ring, to be redeemed afterwards in money; nay, in

his excitement, a man will even tear off his neighbour's jacket and

throw it in."

[Footnote 50: The Japanese Gog and Magog.]

[Illustration: A WRESTLING MATCH.]

Before beginning their tussle, the wrestlers work up their strength by

stamping their feet and slapping their huge thighs. This custom is

derived from the following tale of the heroic or mythological age:--

After the seven ages of the heavenly gods came the reign of Tensho

Daijin, the Sun Goddess, and first Empress of Japan. Her younger

brother, Sosanöô no Mikoto, was a mighty and a brave hero, but

turbulent, and delighted in hunting the deer and the boar. After

killing these beasts, he would throw their dead bodies into the sacred

hall of his sister, and otherwise defile her dwelling. When he had

done this several times, his sister was angry, and hid in the cave

called the Rock Gate of Heaven; and when her face was not seen, there

was no difference between the night and the day. The heroes who served

her, mourning over this, went to seek her; but she placed a huge stone

in front of the cave, and would not come forth. The heroes, seeing

this, consulted together, and danced and played antics before the cave

to lure her out. Tempted by curiosity to see the sight, she opened the

gate a little and peeped out. Then the hero Tajikaraô, or "Great

Strength," clapping his hands and stamping his feet, with a great

effort grasped and threw down the stone door, and the heroes fetched

back the Sun Goddess.[51] As Tajikaraô is the patron god of Strength,

wrestlers, on entering the ring, still commemorate his deed by

clapping their hands and stamping their feet as a preparation for

putting forth their strength.

[Footnote 51: The author of the history called "Kokushi Riyaku"

explains this fable as being an account of the first eclipse.]

The great Daimios are in the habit of attaching wrestlers to their

persons, and assigning to them a yearly portion of rice. It is usual

for these athletes to take part in funeral or wedding processions, and

to escort the princes on journeys. The rich wardsmen or merchants give

money to their favourite wrestlers, and invite them to their houses to

drink wine and feast. Though low, vulgar fellows, they are allowed

something of the same familiarity which is accorded to prize-fighters,

jockeys, and the like, by their patrons in our own country.

The Japanese wrestlers appear to have no regular system of training;

they harden their naturally powerful limbs by much beating, and by

butting at wooden posts with their shoulders. Their diet is stronger

than that of the ordinary Japanese, who rarely touch meat.

Tales of Old Japan · 第 33 / 93 题