THREE: "I wish you could see me just now. I am sitting on the veranda of the hotel, and Fred is at the table with me. If we look up from our paper, we can see out upon the bay, where lots of ships are at anchor, and where a whole fleet of Japanese fishing-boats are coming up and dragging their nets along after them. Down in the street in front of us there are some funny-looking men with trousers as tight as their skins, and making the[Pg 87] men look a great deal smaller than they are. They have hats like small umbrellas, and made of plaited straw, to keep the sun off, and they have them tied down under the chin with cords as big as a clothes-line. Doctor Bronson says these are the lower class of Japanese, and that we haven't seen the fine people yet. There are three musicians, at least they are called so, but I can't see that they make much that I should call music. One of them has on one of those great broad hats, another has his head covered with a sort of small cap, while the third has his skull shaven as smooth as a door-knob. The man with the hat on is blowing a whistle and ringing a small bell, the second is beating on a brass plate with a tiny drumstick, while the third has a pair of clappers which he knocks together, and he sings at the same time. Each of them seems to pay no attention to the rest, but I suppose they think they are playing a tune. Two of them have their legs bare, but they have sandals on their feet, held in place by cords or thongs. The man with the hat must be the leader, as he is the only one that wears trousers, and, besides, he has a pocket-book hung to his girdle. I wonder if they make much money out of the music they are playing?"One day a favorite lady of the emperor's palace persuaded the emperor to give the signal, to see how long it would take for the generals and the army to get to Pekin. He gave the signal, and the army came, but the generals were very angry when they found they had been called together just to amuse a woman. They went back to their homes, and the affair was supposed to be forgotten.
