T o K U c A w a P E R T o D T H E E T E R N A TS T O R E H O U S E

3 5 6

survive even one night with such a godl"-for they had come to O F J A , P A N
attach a peculiar significanceto the odd shapewhich the deity had
assumed.
[Nippon Eiuigara] by lhara Sai\aftu
At this juncure a young and beautiful widow from the village
"Sinceit is for the god, I will offer myself
steppedforward, saying,
in placcof the young maidens."
All night long the beautiful widow waited in the shring but she This collection ol bicl tales dealing uith hou to maftc or lasc a
did not get a bit of afiection.Enraged,she chargedinto thc inner fortunc was frst published in fi88. It is not only ol high literary
sanctum, grasped the divine umbrella 6rmly in her hands and aalue, but gittes us inaaluable descriptionsol thc life of the toutns-
"Worthless deceivert"she tore it apart, and threw the "The
screaming, men in the late seaenteenthcentary. It bears the subtitle,
piecesas far as she couldl
Millionairds Gospel,Retised Vcrsion."

THE TYCOON OF ALL TENANTS

"This is to certify that the person named Fuji-ichi, tenant in a

housebelongingto Hishiya Chozaemon,is to my certainknowledge
the possessor of one thousandrtammein silver. . . ."
Suchwould be the form of testimonialwhen Fuji-ichi soughtnew
lodgings. It was his proud claim that in the whole wide world
there was no millionaire quite like himself. For although he was
worth a thousandrtammc,he lived in a rented houseno more than
four yardswide. In this way he becamethe talk of Kyoto. However,
one day he accepteda house as surety for a loan of thirty-eight
ftamme; in the courseof time, as the interest mounted, the surety
itself becameforfeit; and for the fust time Fuji-ichi becamea prop-
erty owrer. He was much vexedat this. Up to now he had achieved
"the millionaire in lodgings," but now that he had a
distinction as
house of his own he was commonplace-his money in itself was
mere dust by comparisonwith what lay in the strong rooms of the
foremostmerchantsof Kyoto.
Fuji-ichi was a clever man, and his substantial fortune was
amassedin his own lifetime. But first and foremosthe was a man
who knew his own mind, and this was the basisof his success. In

3 5 8 T o K U G A w A P E R T o D
addition to carrying on his regular business,he kept a seParate
ledger,bound from odd scrapsof paper,in which, as he sat all day
in his shop,pen in hand he entereda variety of chanceinformation.
As the clerks from the money exchangespassedby he noted down
the market ratio of copperand gold; he inquired about the current
quotationsof the rice brokers; he sought iqformation from drug-
gists' and haberdashers'assistantson the state of the market at
Nagasaki;for the latest news on the pricesof ginned cotton, salt,
and sak6,he noted the variousdayson which the Kyoto dealersre-
ceiveddispatches from the Edo branchshops.Every day a thousand
things were enteredin his book, and people cameto Fuji-ichi if
they were everin doubt. He becamea valuableassetto the citizens
of Kyoto.
Invariably his dressconsistedof an unlined vest next to his skin,
and on top of that a cotton kimono, stufied on occasionwith three
times the usual amount of padding. He never put on more than
one layer of kimono. It was he who fust startedthe wearing of de-
tachablecuffs on the sleeves-adevicewhich was both fashionable
and economical.His sockswereof deerskinand his clogswere fitted
with high leathersoles,but even so he was careful not to walk too
quickly along the hard main roads.Throughout life his only silk
garmentswere of pongee,dyed plain dark blue. There was one, it
is true, which he had dyed a persistentlyundisguisableseaweed
brown, but this was a youthful error of judgment, and he was to
regret it for the oext twenty years.For his ceremonialdresshe had
no settledcrests,being contentwith a tfuee-barredcircle or a small
conventionalwhirl, but evenduring the summerairing time he was
careful to keep them from direct contact with the floor. His panta'
loons were of hemp, and his starchediacket of an even tougher
variety of the samecloth, so that they remainedcorrecdycreasedno
matter how many times he wore them.
When there was a funeral processionwhich his whole ward was
obliged to join, he followed it perforceto the cemetery,but coming
back he hung behind the othersand, on the path acrossthe moor
at Rokuhara,he and his apprenticespulled up sour herbs by the
roots.
.': I
',,',,!
:,..
!
:lf 3'9
,:l THE ETERNAL STOREIIOUSE
, l
1,,,,! "Dried in the shade,"he explained,"they make excellentstomactr
', i
' i
medicine."
i FIe never passedby anything which might be of use. Even i{ he
stumbled he used the opportunity to pick up stonesfor fireJighters,
and tucked them in his sleeve.The headof a household,if he is to
keep the smokerising steadilyfrom his kitchen, must pay attention
to a thousandthings like this.
Fuji-ichi was not a miser by nature. It was merely his ambition
to serveasa model for othersin the managementof everydayaffairs.
Even in the daysbeforehe made his money he neverhad the New
Year rice cakespreparedin his own lodgings. He consideredthat
to bother over the variousutensils,and to hire a man to pound the
rice, was too much trouble at such a busy time of the year; so he
placed an order with the rice-cake dealer in front of the Great
Buddha. However, with his intuitive grasp of good business,he in-
sistedon paying by weight-so much per pound. Early one morning,
two days before the New Year, a porter from the cake-maker,hur-
rying about his rounds, arrived before Fuji-ichi's shop and setting
down his load, shoutcd for someoneto receivethe order. The newly
pounded cakes,invitingly arrayed,were asfresh and warm as spring
iaelf. The master,pretending not to hear, continued his calculations
on the abacus,and the cake-man,who begrudgedevery moment at
this busy time of the year, shouted again and again. At length a
young clerk, anxious to demonstrate his businesslike approach,
chec.kedthe weight of the cakeson the large scaleswith a show of
great precision,and s€nt the man away.
"Has anyone taken in the
About two hours later Fufi-ichi said:
cakeswhich arrived just nowl"
"The mrn gave them to me and left long ago," said thc clerk.
"[Jselessfellowl" cried Fuji-ichi. "I expect people in *y service
to have more senselDon't you reahz.ethat you took them in before
thcy had cooledoffl"
He weighed them again, and to everyonCsastonishmcnt thcir
weight had decreased.Not one of the cakeshad bcen eaten,and the
clerk stood gazrngat them in open-mouthedamazemcnt.
It was the carly summer of the following ycar. Thc local peoplc
3ffi ToKUGAwA PERToD
from thc neighborhood of the Eastern Temple had gathercd the
first crop of eggplantsin wicker basketsand brought them to town
for sale. "Eat young eggplants and live seventy-fivedays longer"
goes the saying, and they are very popular. The price was 6xed at
two coppers for one cggplang or tfuee coppers for two, whicl"
meant thar everybodybought nro.
But Fuji-ichi bought only one, at two coppers,because-ashe
said-"With the one copper I now have in pocket I can buy any
number of larger ones when the crop is fully grown."
That was the way he kept his wits about him, and he seldom
madea mistake.
In an empty spacein his grounds he planted an assortmentof
useful treesand fowers suc.has willow, holly, laurel, peach,iris, and
bead-beans.This he did as an education for his only daughter.
Morning'glory started to grow of its own accord along the recd
fence, but Fuji-ichi said that if it was a question of beauty such
short-lived things were a loss,and in their place he planted runner-
beans,whose flowers hc thought an equally fine sight. Nothing de-
lighted him more than watching over his daughter.When the young
girl grew into womanhood he had a marriage screenconstructed
for her, and since he consideredthat one decoratedwith views of
Kyoto would make her restlessto visit thc placesshe had not yet
"The Tale of G*ji" or "The Tales of
seen,and that illustrations of
Isc" might engenderfrivolous thoughts, he had the screenpainted
with busy scenesof the silver and copper mines at Tada. Hc com-
posedInstructional Verseson the subject of economyand made his
daughterrecitethem doud.Instead of sendingher to a girls'temple
school,he taught her how to write himself, and by the time he had
reachedthe cnd of his syllabus,he had made her the most finished
and accomplishedgirl in Kyoto. Imitating her father in his thrifty
ways, after the age of eight she spilt no more ink on her sleeves,
played no longer with dolls at the Doll Festivd, nor ioined in the
dancing at Bon.l Every day she combed her own hair and bound
it in a simple bun. She never sought others' help in her private
aftairs. She masteredthe art of stretching silk padding and learned
r A summerfcstival
:lrl
i
I
l_
'f T H E E T E R N A Ls r o R E g o u s g Kl
to fit it perfectly to the length and breadth of eachgarment. Since
young girls can do all this if properly disciplined, it is a mistake to
leave them to do as they please.
Once, on the evening of the seventhd"y of the New Year, some
ncighbors askedleaveto send their sonsto Fuji-ichi's houseto seek
I advrceon how to becomemillionaires.Lighting the lamp in the
l sitting room, Fuji-ichi set his daughter to waiq bidding her let him
know whcn she heard a noise at the private door from the street.
The young girl, doing as she was told with charming gmce, first
carefully lowered the wick in the lamp. Then, when she heard the
voices of the visitors, she raised the wick again and retired to
the scullery. By the time the three guestshad seatedthemselvesthe
grinding of an earthenwaremortar could be heard from the kitchen,
and the sound fell with pleasantpromise on their ears.They specu-
lated on what was in storefor them.
"Pickled whaleskinsoup?"hazardedthc first.
"No. As this is our first visit of thc year, it ought to be rice-cakc
gruelr" said the second.
The third listened carefully for somc time, and then confidently
announcedthat it was noodle soup.Visitors always go through this
amusing performance.Fuji-ichi then enteredand talked to thc threc
of them on the requisitesfor success.
"Why is it that today is calledthe Day of the SevenHerbs?'one
askedhim.
"That was the bcginning of economyin the Age of the Gods: it
was to teachus the ingredientsof a cheapstew."
"Why do we leavea saltedbream hanging before the God of the
Kitchen R*g. until the sixth moonl" askedanother.
"That is so that when you look at it at meal times you may get
thc feeling of having eatenfish without actually doing so."
Finally he was asked the reason for using thick chopsticks at
the New Year.
Tbat is so that when they becomesoiled they can be scraped
whitc again, and in this way one pair will last the whole year.
"As a gencralruler" concludedFuji.ichi, "give the closestattention
to evco the smallestdetails.Well now, you have kindly talkcd with
 ToKucAvrA PERToD T H E N A R R O W R O A D O F O I ( U
362

me from early evening, and it is high time that refreshmentswere

l}fta no Hosomichil by MatsuoBasho( fi44-6g4)
served.But not to provide refreshmentsis one way of becoming a
millionaire. The noise of the mortar which you heard when you
fust arrived was the pounding of starch for the covers of the Ac-
count Book."
A'TSIITED EY C. w'. SIRGENT

*" *lo*, and days are the travelers of eternity. The years that
come and go are also voyagers.Those who float away their lives on
boatsor who grow old leading horsesare forever journeying, and
their homesare wherevertheir travels take them. Many of the men
of old died on the road, and I too for years past have been stirred
by the sight of a solitary cloud drifting with the wind, to ceaseless
thoughts of roaming.
Last year I spent wandering along the seacoast.In autumn I re-
turned to my cottage on the river and swept away the cobwebs.
Gradually the year drew to its close.When spring came and there
was mist in the air, I thought of crossing the Barrier of Shirakawa
into Oku. Everything about me was bewitchedby the travel-gods,
and my thoughts were no longer mine to control. The spirits of
the road beckoned,and I could do no work at all.
I patched up my torn uousers and changed the cords on my
bamboo hat. To strengthen my legs for the journey I had moxa
burned on my shins.Then the thought of the moon at Matsushima
began to occupy my thoughts. When I sold my cottage and moved
to Samp['s villa, to $tay until I started on my journey, I hung this
poem on a Postio my hut:
Kusa no to mo Even a thatchedhut
Sumiftaanru yo zo In this changingworld may turn
Hina no ic Into a doll's house.
When I setout on the twenty-seventhof March, the dawn sky was
misty. Though the palemorning moon had lost its light, Fuii could
still be seenfaintly. The cherry blossomson the boughs at Ueno
and Yanaka stirred sad thoughts within me' as I wondered when
again I should seethem. My dearestfriends had all cometo Sampii'o