BOYS AND GIRLS IN JAPAN (_continued_)
When Japanese boys and girls go to school, they make very low bows to their
teacher and draw in the breath with a buzzing sound. This is a sign of deep
respect, and the teacher returns their politeness by making low bows to
them. Then the children sit down and begin to learn their lessons.
Their books are very odd-looking affairs to us. Not only are they printed
in very large characters, but they seem quite upside down. To find the
first page you turn to the end of the book, and you read it backwards
to the front page. Again, you do not read from left to right, as in our
fashion, but from right to left. Nor is this all: for the lines do not run
across the page, but up and down. Altogether, a Japanese book is at first
a very puzzling affair. When the writing lesson comes, the children have
no pens; they use brushes instead. They dip their brushes in the ink, and
paint the words one under the other, beginning at the top right-hand corner
and finishing at the bottom left-hand corner. If they have an address to
write on an envelope, they turn that upside down and begin with the name
of the country and finish with the name of the person--England, London,
Kensington Gardens, Brown John Mr.
[Illustration: THE WRITING LESSON]
But Japanese children have quite as many things to learn at home as at
school. At school they learn arithmetic, geography, history, and so on,
just as children do in England, but their manners and their conduct towards
other people are carefully drilled into them by their parents. The art of
behaving yourself towards others is by no means an easy thing to learn
in Japan. It is not merely a matter of good-feeling, gentleness, and
politeness, as we understand it, but there is a whole complicated system
of behaviour: how many bows to make, and how they should be made. There
are different forms of salutation to superiors, equals, and inferiors.
Different ranks of life have their own ways of performing certain actions,
and it is said that a girl's rank may easily be known merely by the way
in which she hands a cup of tea to a guest. From the earliest years the
children are trained in these observances, and they never make a mistake.
The Japanese baby is taught how to walk, how to bow, how to kneel and
touch the floor with its forehead in the presence of a superior, and how
to get up again; and all is done in the most graceful manner and without
disturbing a single fold in its kimono.
A child is taught very carefully how to wait on people, how to enter the
room, how to carry a tray or bowl at the right height, and, above all, how
to offer a cup or plate in the most dainty and correct style. One writer
speaks of going into a Japanese shop to buy some articles he wanted. The
master, the mistress, the children, all bent down before him. There was
a two-year-old baby boy asleep on his sister's back, and he, too, was
awakened and called upon to pay his respects to the foreign gentleman. He
woke without a start or a cry, understood at once what was required of him,
was set on his feet, and then proceeded to make his bows and to touch the
ground with his little forehead, just as exactly as his elder relatives.
This done, he was restored once more to the shawl, and was asleep again in
a moment.
The art of arranging flowers and ornaments is another important branch of a
girl's home education. Everything in a Japanese room is carefully arranged
so that it shall be in harmony with its surroundings. The arrangement of
a bunch of flowers in a fine porcelain jar is a matter of much thought
and care. Children are trained how to arrange blossoms and boughs so that
the most beautiful effect may be gained, and in many Japanese houses may
be found books which contain rules and diagrams intended to help them in
gaining this power of skilful arrangement. This feeling for taste and
beauty is common to all Japanese, even the poorest. A well-known artist
says: "Perhaps, however, one of the most curious experiences I had of the
native artistic instinct of Japan occurred in this way: I had got a number
of fan-holders, and was busying myself one afternoon arranging them upon
the walls. My little Japanese servant-boy was in the room, and as I went
on with my work I caught an expression on his face from time to time which
showed me that he was not overpleased with my performance. After a while,
as this dissatisfied expression seemed to deepen, I asked him what the
matter was. Then he frankly confessed that he did not like the way in which
I was arranging my fan-holders. 'Why did you not tell me so at once?' I
asked. 'You are an artist from England,' he replied, 'and it was not for
me to speak.' However, I persuaded him to arrange the fan-holders himself
after his own taste, and I must say that I received a remarkable lesson.
The task took him about two hours--placing, arranging, adjusting; and when
he had finished, the result was simply beautiful. That wall was a perfect
picture: every fan-holder seemed to be exactly in its right place, and it
looked as if the alteration of a single one would affect and disintegrate
the whole scheme. I accepted the lesson with due humility, and remained
more than ever convinced that the Japanese are what they have justly
claimed to be--an essentially artistic people, instinct with living art."