After a while they had said their say and, leaning back on the rustic moulding, contented themselves with looking out at the shadows falling across the mirrored lake from the tall cypress standing on the bank. Presently Takara broke the silence by saying: "Let us call the geishas; the water is so still and the day suggestive. What do you say, Tetsutaisho?" "A happy thought. And what shall it be?" "I have but one choice." "The ancient dance?" "Yes; 'No.'" Tetsutaisho called and despatched a servant to the shibai (house of entertainment) for Michizane, the "lover of the plum" and poet to Takara, who came forthwith and bowed, and then stood by, waiting to be directed. Tetsutaisho first spoke, saying: "Michizane, your lady would have you provide some entertainment before the sun is set. She herself will suggest the kind." "Yes, Michizane," said she. "Let it be 'no,' the dance of our fathers; then, if you like, a poem." Michizane bowed and departed, though not with a happy expression. Since her early childhood this old man had faithfully provided Takara with innocent amusement, which service, since his lady's marriage to Shibusawa, consisted chiefly in reading to her poems of his own creation. She had brought him along from Kyoto as a necessary part of her household effects, all of which belonged to an age or a school not of the shogun's. He was now a veteran of sixty years, and little calculated to compose in a vein suited to his fair lady's taste, except it be not when Tetsutaisho was so near by. Michizane was not long, however, in arranging in front of the "lovers' nest" the covered float, upon which there balanced a dozen and six--one for each half decade from birth to ninety--of the fairest and loveliest of the geishas. These were arranged at the rear of the platform in the form of a crescent, beginning at the left with the youngest and ending at the right with the oldest--symbolic of the rising and the setting of the sun. All were clad in rich garments, fashioned according to their ages, and their hair was arranged in representation of the several stages of womanhood. They stood with bowed head and extended foot, ready to reel and swing at the first sound of the music. At the centre of the crescent there sat facing the dancers three others of a different type and a more gaudy dress, with bright coloured ornaments in their hair and much tinsel about their waists. These were the koto players, who held their instruments in front waiting the signal for them to begin the dance. In front of these, facing the dancers, sat Michizane, cross-toed and erect, with his withered hands folded in front of him. He wore a plain grey kimono, which folded under a long girdle, looped up at the side, and his long white hair fluffed out and hung far down over his stooped shoulders.