of which the old fans were made, and in consequence, the style of
manufacture has had to be changed. Instead of first pasting the two
faces of the fan together and then running in pointed ribs, the ribs
are square and are pasted in their places in the manner described
above. The outside lacquered pieces and the fancy-work are all done in
Osaka and Kioto, and some of the designs in gold lacquer on bone are
really artistic; but the demand for the highly ornamented description
of fans is not sufficient to encourage the production of large
quantities of first-class work. When the insides are dry, the riveting
of the pieces together, including the outer covering, is rapidly done,
and a dash of varnish quickly finishes the fan.
The highest price that was ever given for a fan in the days of
seclusion from the outer world rarely exceeded a sovereign; but since
the arrival of foreigners in the country, some few have been made to
order at prices varying from two to three pounds sterling. The general
prices of ordinary fans range from two or three shillings to three
pounds per hundred, though an extraordinarily expensive fan is turned
out at ten pounds per hundred. The sale of fans in olden times seldom
exceeded ten thousand a year for the whole country; but in recent years
no less than three millions per annum have been exported from the ports
of Osaka and Yokohama alone. In concluding these brief notes, it may be
interesting to mention that the number of fans ordered in Japan for the
Centennial Exhibition at Philadelphia reached the large figure of eight
hundred thousand, the estimated cost of which was ten thousand pounds,
and that these were over and above the ordinary annual export alluded
to before.
THE PIXIES.
Among the superstitions still far from being extirpated in Wales and
some parts of Devonshire, is a belief in exceedingly small beings
known as pixies. From anything we can learn, the pixies resemble the
fairies of old English superstition, but with this difference, that
pixies possess that love of fun and mischief which reminds us of the
Puck of Shakspeare. When a pixy has been successful in any trick upon
travellers, it is said to send forth a peal of laughter and to tumble
head over heels to shew its delight; this has become proverbial in
Devonshire; so that if any one laughs immoderately, he is said to laugh
'like a pixy.' The following pixy story is still current.
In a little country-place in the prettiest part of Devonshire there
lived a miller's daughter, who was betrothed to a young farmer of the
neighbourhood. For some time their course ran as smoothly as could be
desired. But the young man began to cast looks of suspicion on another
admirer of his betrothed, and to let a jealous demon rankle within
him, whispering to him that he no longer held the first place in the
damsel's affections.
The miller's daughter, besides possessing considerable personal
attractions, had the reputation of being the neatest and most
industrious housewife in the place; and so the pixies, who invariably
tried to aid the industrious, took her under their especial protection.
They removed everything harmful from her path, and were always at hand
to do her a service; she herself meanwhile being quite unconscious of
the presence of the small people. One pixy used to place flowers on
her window-sill every morning, and the maiden innocently dreamt that
they were offerings from her lover, and prized them accordingly. One
morning early about this time the young man passed before her house,
and noticed the flowers upon the window-sill. Jealousy immediately
took possession of him, and he saw in the simple flowers the offerings
of a more favoured admirer. Just then the window was opened gently,
and the miller's daughter appeared; and unconscious of the watcher
lurking behind the hedge, she took up the rosebuds which formed her
morning's gift and pressed them to her lips. Then she withdrew, taking
the flowers with her, and leaving him to rage inwardly at what he
considered her perfidy.
From that morning his behaviour towards her was changed, and he became
gloomy and morose, throwing out hints of his suspicions from time to
time, which troubled the gentle maiden, without her being able to
comprehend any reason for it all. But the pixies, seeing how matters
stood, determined to convince the moody fellow of her truth, and at the
same time to punish him for his unreasonable jealousy. So one evening,
when he was coming home from a market-town (perhaps top-heavy), he
was pixy-led in a meadow just below the miller's house, through which
he had to pass. Hosts of pixies gathered for the occasion, armed
with nettles, thistles, and small bushes of thorn-trees. With these
formidable weapons they pricked, stung, and mercilessly belaboured the
unfortunate young man, dancing around him with mocking gestures, and
chasing him from one end of the field to another.
Thus harassed, they kept him until the morning dawned, when one pixy
came forward with a beautiful bunch of flowers, which he delivered
to another pixy, who carried it off, and climbing up the vine that
covered the side of the miller's house, laid the bouquet on the
maiden's window-sill. Then he disappeared, followed quickly by the rest
of the pixies, leaving the young man (who now saw from what quarter
the flowers had come) to meditate on the matter. The result of his
meditations was, that before another day was gone, he went to his
betrothed and told her the doubts he had gone through, and the manner
in which the pixies had freed him from those doubts; and the whole
affair was then settled to the satisfaction of everybody concerned,
including the pixies.
Stories of this sort are wonderfully poetical, and may amuse young
folks, but they are two centuries out of date, and we may hope that
matters are educationally in train to supersede them by materials quite
as droll and a little more rational.
* * * * *
Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON,
and 339 High Street, EDINBURGH.
* * * * *
_All Rights Reserved._
* * * * *
[Transcriber's Note--the following changes have been made to this text:
Page 770: daugher changed to daughter.]