To-day, therefore, under the scorching mid-day sun, at two o'clock, three quick-footed djins dragged us at full speed,--Yves, Chrysanthème and myself,--in Indian file, each in a little jolting cart, to the further end of Nagasaki, and there deposited us at the foot of some gigantic steps that run straight up into the mountain. These are the granite steps leading to the great temple of Osueva; wide enough to give access to a whole regiment; they are as grand and imposing as any work of Babylon or Nineveh, and in complete contrast with all the finical surroundings. We climb up and up,--Chrysanthème listlessly, affecting fatigue, under her paper parasol painted with pink butterflies on a black ground. As we ascended, we passed under enormous monastic porticos, also in granite of rude and primitive style. In truth, these steps and these temple porticos are the only imposing works that this people has created, and they astonish, for they scarcely seem Japanese. We climb up still higher. At this sultry hour of the day, from top to bottom of the immense gray steps, only we three are to be seen; on all that granite there are but the pink butterflies on Chrysanthème's parasol, to throw a cheerful and brilliant note. We passed through the first temple yard, in which are a couple of white china turrets, bronze lanterns, and the statue of a large horse in jade. Then without pausing at the sanctuary, we turned to the left, and entered a shady garden, which formed a terrace halfway up the hill, and at the extremity of which was situated the _Donko-Tchaya_,--in English: _the tea-house of the Toads_. It was here that Chrysanthème was taking us. We sat down at a table, under a black linen tent, decorated with large white letters (of funereal aspect), and two laughing _mousmés_ hurried up to wait upon us. The word _mousmé_ means a young girl, or very young woman. It is one of the prettiest words in the Niponese language; it seems almost as if there were a little _moue_[C] in the very sound, and as if a pretty taking little pout such as they put on, and also a little pert physiognomy, were described by it. I shall often make use of it, knowing none other in our own language that conveys the same meaning. [Footnote C: _Moue_ means "pout" in French.] Some Japanese Watteau must have mapped out this _Donko-Tchaya_, for it has rather an affected air of rurality, though very pretty. Well shaded, under a thick vault of large trees densely foliaged, a miniature lake hard by, the chosen residence of a few toads, has given it its attractive denomination. Lucky toads, who crawl and croak on the finest of moss, in the midst of tiny artificial islets decked with gardenias in full bloom. From time to time, one of them informs us of his thoughts by a "Couac," uttered in a deep bass croak infinitely more hollow than that of our own toads. * * * * *