The Kingdom of Slender SwordsRives, Hallie Erminie
History
The Kingdom of Slender Swords
Rives, Hallie Erminie
East and West -- Fiction; Japan -- History -- Meiji period, 1868-1912 -- Fiction
Along its crest ran a lane bordered with thorn hedges. A little way
inside this stood a huge stone _torii_, facing a square, ornamented
gateway, shaded by cryptomerias. The latter was heavily but chastely
carved, and on its ceiling was a painting, in green and white on a
gold-leaf ground, of Kwan-on, the All-Pitying. From the gate one looked
down across the declivity, where in a walled compound, the rambling
buildings of the Embassy showed pallidly amid green foliage. Beyond this
were sections of trafficking streets, and still farther a narrow, white
road climbed a hill toward a military barracks--a blur of dull,
terra-cotta red. In the dying afternoon the lane had an air of placid
aloofness. Somewhere in a thoroughfare below a trolley bell sounded, an
impudent note of haste and change in a symphony of the intransmutable.
Over all was the scent of cherry-blossoms and a faint musk-like odor of
incense.
From the gate a mossy pavement, shaded by sacred _mochi_ trees, led to a
Buddhist temple-front of the _Mon-to_ sect, before which a flock of
fluttering gray-and-white pigeons were pecking grains of rice scattered
by a priest, who stood on its upper step, watching them through placid,
gold-rimmed spectacles. He wore a long green robe, a stole of gold
brocade was around his neck, and his face was seamed with the lines of
life's receding tides. At one side of the pavement, worn and grooved by
centuries of worshiping feet, was a square stone font and on the other
side a graceful bell-tower of red lacquer. Back of this stood a forest
of tall bronze lanterns, and beyond them a graveyard, an acre thick with
standing stone tablets of quaint, squarish shape, chiseled with deep-cut
idiographs. Nearer the graveyard, overshadowed by the greater bulk of
the temple, was a long, low nunnery, with clumps of flowers about it.
Through its bamboo lattices one caught glimpses of women's figures, clad
in slate-color, of placid faces and boyishly shaven heads. About the
yard a few little children were playing and a mother, with a baby on her
back, looked smilingly on.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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