In ordinary times the Kannuski are not distinguishable from laymen, but on this day they wore their sacerdotal robes--long loose gowns with wide sleeves girdled at the waist. Upon their heads were black hats shaped like the biretta with a widow’s cap and strings at the back. The high priest--an old and bearded man of solemn and dignified bearing, who looked more like a Parsee than a Japanese--wore a sword in a velvet scabbard, and his gown was of red and black silk, closely resembling the old-fashioned dimity. The gowns of his assistants were of drab-watered silk, worn over regulation khaki trousers and regulation army boots that compelled one to the conclusion that they were private soldiers clothed for the nonce with priestly authority. Advancing toward the altar, the priests stood before the shrine, clapped their hands three times, placed them reverently together, bowed their heads, and uttered the invocation to the dead. It was an invitation to the souls of the departed to rest upon the white strips of paper, or “go-hei.” Returning to their original places, one of the junior priests took from the table in front of the altar the branch of pine. Raising it aloft in his right hand he waved the branch over the heads of his fellow priests, over the officers and _attachés_, and over the offerings prepared in the little enclosed space. Then, moving to the front of the sanctuary until he stood on the edge of the terrace, he swept the air thrice over the heads of the multitude far below. This was the act of purification in which the pine, or ever-green, signifies sincerity. The High Priest thereupon drew near to the altar, and bowing before it took from his breast a scroll from which he recited in murmuring tones these words: