When Lotus Blossom was two years old her brother Toyo was born. How the family rejoiced at having a little son! When he was only seven days old a very important ceremony was performed. He had to receive a name. His papa, who believes in the religion of Shintoism, fully wrote out five of his favourite names on pieces of paper. Then he took his baby in his arms, and, carrying the papers, he went to the temple where he worshipped. The papers were handed to the priest, who placed them in a bowl. After some ceremony, the priest began to fish in the bowl with a sacred wand. The first paper he lifted out bore the name of Toyo. This was the way that Lotus Blossom's little brother received his name. When he was about four weeks old he was again carried to the temple by his father and nurse. The Japanese believe in one great power, or god, but under him there are many others; as, a god of flowers, a god of art, and so forth. This time he was put under the care of his special god, who was then expected to protect him for the rest of his life. All this time Toyo's head was kept perfectly smooth. In fact, his first visit to the barber was very important, for all his hair was shaved off then except a little fringe at the back and sides. When he was four months old another important ceremony was held. Toyo left off baby clothes and was given his first solid food. That was rice, of course, which he would continue to eat at every meal for the rest of his life. Toyo and Lotus Blossom are always happy together. His sister was the first one to help Toyo squat on his little heels. Japanese babies never creep. The little brother had no baby-carriage or cradle, but he never missed them. He was always such a happy little fellow; never perched up in a high-chair with his body fastened in by a wooden tray, but always moving around, sometimes on the floor, sometimes fastened on mamma's or nurse's back, again on the older children's backs, when Lotus Blossom was out playing in the garden with them. When he got tired he would simply go to sleep, while the children would keep on with their play. But when he woke up, he would look about with a dear little smile, as much as to say: "I'm all right, thank you, don't fret about me." It was a most important time when he cut the first tooth, and not only that, but the second and the third,--in fact, every tooth in turn had its arrival celebrated. A poem about each one was written by his loving papa, and a little festival was held in the home. Such happy, childlike people are the Japanese! They are ready to enjoy everything. Even the funerals are cheerful, and have nothing sad and dreary about them. Why should they, when the people believe that they always will live, and that they will come back to earth again to enjoy the beautiful fields and flowers and sunshine in new bodies?