that the percentage of
attendance made by the children at the primary schools of the
prefecture is higher than anywhere else. Like Amsterdam, Niigata is a
city of bridges. There must be 200 of them. The big timber bridge
across the estuary is nearly half a mile long. One finds in Niigata a
Manchester-like spirit of business enterprise. Our hotel was
excellent.

Because they speak with all sorts of people and hear a great deal of
conversation the blind _amma_ are full of interesting gossip. A clever
_amma_ who ran his knuckles up and down my back said that farm land a
good way from Niigata was sold at from 200 yen to 300 yen and
sometimes at 400 yen per quarter acre.[130] Prefectural officials who
called on me explained that drainage operations on a large scale were
being completed. The water of which the low land was relieved would be
used to extend farming in the hills. An effort was also being made to
develop stock-keeping in the uplands. It was proposed "to supply every
farmer with a scheme for increasing his live stock." The optimistic
authorities were particularly attracted by the notion of keeping
sheep. The plan was to arrange for co-operation in hill pasturing and
in wool and meat production. Mutton was as yet unknown, however, in
Niigata. (The mutton eaten by foreigners in Japan usually comes from
Shanghai.)

I went into the country to a little place where the natural gas from
the soil was used by the farmers for lighting and cooking. I heard
talk in this village and in others of the influence of the local army
reservists' society. "Young men on returning from their army service
are always influential. They are much respected by the youths and are
talkative indeed in the village assembly."

As our host was the village headman he kindly brought the assembly
together to meet me. I asked the assembled fathers about two stones
erected in the village. Somebody had kindled a fire of rice screenings
near one of them and it had been scorched. On the other stone a kimono
had been hung to dry. The explanation was that the stones were
monuments not shrines, and that the people who had set them up had
left the district. The stones were no doubt respected while the donors
lived. It was not uncommon for a pilgrim to a shrine to erect a
memorial on his return home.

In this village fifty Shinto shrines of the fifth class had been
closed under the influence of the Home Office. They were shrines which
had no offering from