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
In their swift flight the city appeared a living sea of undulations, of
immense green wastes alternating with humming sections of trade, of
abrupt, cliff-like hills, of small parks that were masses of
cherry-bloom and landscapes of weird Japanese beauty. Patricia quoted
one of Haru's quaint sayings: "So-o-o many small village got such a
lonesomeness an' come more closer together. Tha's the way Tokyo born."
Occasionally the Ambassador pointed out the stately palace of some
influential noble, or the amorphous, depressing front of the
foreign-style stucco residence of some statesman, built in that
different period when the empire took first steps in the path of
world-powers, with its low, graceful Japanese portion beside it.
Everywhere Barbara was conscious of the flutter of children--of little
girls whose dress and hair showed a pervasive sense of care and
adornment; of faces neither gay nor sad looking from latticed windows
that hung above open gutters of sluggish ooze; of frail balconies
adorned with growing flowers or miniature gardens set in earthen trays;
of doorways hung with soft-fringed, rice-straw ropes and dotted with
paper charms--the talismanic _o-fuda_ seen on every hand in Japan. In
Yokohama what had struck her most had been the curious composite, the
jumbled dissonance of East and West. Here was a new impression; this was
real Japan, but a Japan that, if it had taken on western hues, had
everywhere qualified them by subtle variations, themselves oriental.
Past the carriage whirled landaus bearing Japanese _grandes dames_ in
native dress, with pomade-stiff coiffures against which their
rice-powdered faces made a ghastly contrast; between the rear springs of
each vehicle was fixed a round flat pommel on which a runner stood,
balancing himself to the swift movement. A Japanese military officer in
khaki, with a row of decorations on his breast, rode by on a horse too
big for him, at a jingling trot. Two soldiers passing afoot, faced
sidewise and their heavy cowhide heels came together with a thud, as
they saluted. Their arms had the jerky precision of a mechanical toy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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