. The mikado's empire. se towns, the ideal Fukui was a grand the excitement of travel was now over, and I was to see the actualFukui. I rode around the castle circuit, and out into the city, and fora long distance through its streets. I was amazed at the utter pover-ty of the people, the contemptible houses, and the tumble-down lookof the city, as compared with the trim dwellings of an American rode through many streets, expecting at last to emerge into somesplendid avenue. I rode in vain; and, as I rode, the scales fell frommy eyes. There was no more excitement now to weave fi
. The mikado's empire. se towns, the ideal Fukui was a grand the excitement of travel was now over, and I was to see the actualFukui. I rode around the castle circuit, and out into the city, and fora long distance through its streets. I was amazed at the utter pover-ty of the people, the contemptible houses, and the tumble-down lookof the city, as compared with the trim dwellings of an American rode through many streets, expecting at last to emerge into somesplendid avenue. I rode in vain; and, as I rode, the scales fell frommy eyes. There was no more excitement now to weave films of gla-mour before my vision. I saw through the achromatic glasses of act-uality. I realized what a Japanese—an Asiatic city—was. All thehouses of wood, the people poor, the streets muddy, few signs ofwealth, no splendid shops. Talk of Oriental magnificence and luxu-ry ! What nonsense! I was disgusted. My heart sunk. A desper-ate fit of the blues seized me. I returned home, to chew the cud ofgloomy Servant before his Master. Fukui was the home of Kusakabe, my former student, who died inNew Brunswick. His father had heard of my coming. In the after-noon he called to see me. A lacquered trayful of very fine oranges,on which lay the peculiarly folded paper, betokening a gift, and a slipof paper written with Chinese characters — the visiting-card — washanded me by Sahei, who, as usual, fell down on all fours, with faceon his hands, as though whispering to the floor. It was the Orientalway of visiting with a gift in the hand. He had come to the houseby way of the rear instead of the front gate, in token of humility on MECEPTION BY THE STUDENTS. 431 his part and honor to me. I bid my servant usher him in, and asad-looking man of fifty or more years entered. Through Iwabuchihis story was soon told. His wife had died of grief on hearing ofher son dying a stranger in a strange land. Two very young sonswere living. His other children, five in number,
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Keywords: ., bookauthorgriffisw, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookyear1894
