The road by way of the stream was a longer one than that by the street, for the river wound with many a turn and twist, as if loth to reach the sea. It was no more than a path, stony in some places and muddy in others--rough throughout; and there were spots where the unwieldy vehicle was in danger of overturning. The Japanese are so innately poetic that even the least educated find pleasure in gazing upon nature in its sweetest moods. On Lake Biwa, not far from Ki[^y]oto, there is, while I write, a tea-house on a hill, which, at certain seasons, does a thriving trade, because from that particular spot an entrancing view may be obtained of moon and foliage and water. And it is not the cultured class alone that enjoys this refined amusement. The common horny-handed field coolie may be seen smoking his pipe, beaming with satisfaction, upon the mat, surrounded by wife and children, all equally enchanted by the spectacle. On the river-bank, built out over the stream, not far from Tsu, there was just such another tea-house, from which a view was obtained of land-locked bay and rocks and feathery bamboo--the self-same picture which O'Tei used to enjoy from her own garden near the temple, seen from another point. It was to this tea-house that O'Kikú had proposed to conduct the rollicking samurai, to sit there a while with quip and jest, and thence return to supper. Preparations had been made on a grand scale; coolies had been sent to repair the path in rotten places with bundles of rushes, to clear away stones; and therefore the expedition was a matter of talk for several days before among those who dwelt in the castle. It was in obedience to a whim--in order more completely to crush her rival--that O'Tei had elected to choose this route. A vision of her favourite landscape had appeared before her. It was so long since she had seen it that she yearned to look on it again. As the procession moved swiftly and silently over the snow, she became lost in reverie. She had been happy once in her garden in a negative sort of way. How long ago it seemed! And since those early days (sure a century since) what a catalogue of suffering and crime! Yes, it must be a century, not a few years only. She was an old, old woman, seared and world-worn, longing for the mysterious change. Her ordeal on this planet would soon be over. How gladly would she move elsewhere. The cold was intense. She drew over her head a purple kerchief, for the beauty of the scene must not be blocked out by curtains. The well-skilled bearers marched with a steady, gentle sway, picking their steps with cat-like caution. Their straw shoes made no sound on the soft snow. The regular rhythm of their breathing lulled to repose. Leaning back her weary head upon the cushions, O'Tei fell fast asleep.