For summer audiences suggestions of coolness are made. In a certain scene gold screens will be used, on which are painted pine-clad islands, blue water, and white waves. When that mysterious sea of faces upon which the actor plays is one fluttering mass of paper fans, then the taste inclines to realistic typhoons with thunder and lightning and real rain, that splashes all over the stage, or there is shown an under-the-ocean scene in which fish and mermaids disport themselves. Should a piece with the savour of the sea be given, a curtain is suspended from the galleries showing blue waves on white, and creepy ghost plays are a cooling influence when it is necessary to forget the hot clamminess of the streets. In winter, however, the near-to-nature aspect of shibai is not conducive to comfort. Then it is necessary to sit on the feet to keep them warm, and the chill air blows through chinks and cracks. The only heat provided is a small porcelain vessel filled with charcoal embers placed in a box that has an aperture in the top, while over the whole is placed a wadded covering—a hand-warmer that theatre-goers could not very well do without. But if there is signal neglect of creature comforts in the winter shibai, there are compensations. There is no lack of warm food and beverages to suit the taste of the most fastidious. During the intervals between plays the people promenade along the corridors and purchase souvenirs at the stalls, where many tempting wares are displayed to view. An air of enjoyment and pleasure pervades the atmosphere. April is still, as it was in the old days, the gayest and most attractive month for playgoers. Thousands of provincials flock to Tokyo and Osaka, and the theatres vie with each other to provide the most attractive programmes. Artificial cherry blossoms form the decorations outside the theatres, and the stage shows some special arrangement of these flowers. Following the old custom, November is the most dignified theatre month in the calendar, when the great actors play their finest rôles to mark the opening of the theatre season. The celebration of the New Year is observed in a special manner, the decorations consisting of pine, bamboo, and plum, and lanterns bearing the names and crests of the leading actors. December is the dullest and most uninteresting theatre month, since the year-end settlement of outstanding accounts makes it necessary to retrench in order to meet all obligations, and because the busy household preparations keep many a matron and maid at home. Not all the plays on a programme, that lasts from noon to near midnight, are calculated to hold the attention—in some scenes the action, if it can be so called, meanders gently on, the audience manifesting a mild interest. There is a deep undercurrent of repose upon the stage, the actors going about their business leisurely, knowing nothing of the hurry with which Western players cram the events of a lifetime into a short two-hours-and-a-half.