“Shōko Setsu was not less delighted than surprised; for the book was a manuscript of the rarest and most precious kind,—containing all the secrets of the science of divination. After having thanked the young men, and properly expressed his regret for the death of their teacher, he went back to his hut, and there immediately proceeded to test the worth of the book by consulting its pages in regard to his own fortune. The book suggested to him that on the south side of his dwelling, at a particular spot near one corner of the hut, great luck awaited him. He dug at the place indicated, and found a jar containing gold enough to make him a very wealthy man.” My old acquaintance left this world as lonesomely as he had lived in it. Last winter, while crossing a mountain-range, he was overtaken by a snowstorm, and lost his way. Many days later he was found standing erect at the foot of a pine, with his little pack strapped to his shoulders: a statue of ice—arms folded and eyes closed as in meditation. Probably, while waiting for the storm to pass, he had yielded to the drowsiness of cold, and the drift had risen over him as he slept. Hearing of this strange death I remembered the old Japanese saying,—_Uranaiya minouyé shiradzu:_ “The fortune-teller knows not his own fate.” Silkworms I I was puzzled by the phrase, “silkworm-moth eyebrow,” in an old Japanese, or rather Chinese proverb:—_The silkworm-moth eyebrow of a woman is the axe that cuts down the wisdom of man._ So I went to my friend Niimi, who keeps silkworms, to ask for an explanation. “Is it possible,” he exclaimed, “that you never saw a silkworm-moth? The silkworm-moth has very beautiful eyebrows.” “Eyebrows?” I queried, in astonishment. “Well, call them what you like,” returned Niimi;—“the poets call them eyebrows…. Wait a moment, and I will show you.” He left the guest-room, and presently returned with a white paper-fan, on which a silkworm-moth was sleepily reposing. “We always reserve a few for breeding,” he said;—“this one is just out of the cocoon. It cannot fly, of course: none of them can fly…. Now look at the eyebrows.” I looked, and saw that the antennae, very short and feathery, were so arched back over the two jewel-specks of eyes in the velvety head, as to give the appearance of a really handsome pair of eyebrows. Then Niimi took me to see his worms.