in simple
English with that air of responsibility which the eldest son so soon
acquires in Japan. His brothers and sisters enjoyed a happy relation
with him and with each other. The whole family was merry, unselfish
and, in the best sense of the word, educated. As we knelt on our
_zabuton_ we refreshed ourselves with tea and the fine view of the
active volcano, Asama, and chatted on schools, holidays, books, the
country and religion. After a while, a little to my surprise, the
mother in her sweet voice gravely said that if I would not mind at all
she would like very much to ask me two questions. The first was, "Are
the people who go to the Christian church here all Christians?" and
the second, "Are Christians as affectionate as Japanese?"

Karuizawa, which is full of ill-nourished, scabby-headed,
"bubbly-nosed"[134] Japanese children, is an impoverished place on one
of the ancient highways. We took ourselves along the road until we
reached at a slightly higher altitude the decayed village of Oiwake.
When the railway came near it finished the work of desolation which
the cessation of the daimyos' progresses to Yedo (now Tokyo) had begun
half a century ago. In the days of the Shogun three-quarters of the
300 houses were inns. Now two-thirds of the houses have become
uninhabitable, or have been sold, taken down and rebuilt elsewhere.
The Shinto shrines are neglected and some are unroofed, the Zen temple
is impoverished, the school is comfortless and a thousand tombstones
in the ancient burying ground among the trees are half hidden in moss
and undergrowth.

The farm rents now charged in Oiwake had not been changed for thirty,
forty or fifty years. In the old inn there was a Shinto shrine, about
12 ft. long by nearly 2 ft. deep, with latticed sliding doors. It
contained a dusty collection of charms and memorials dating back for
generations. Outside in the garden at the spring I found an irregular
row of half a dozen rather dejected-looking little stone _hokora_
about a foot high. Some had faded _gohei_ thrust into them, but from
the others the clipped paper strips had blown away. At the foot of the
garden I discovered a somewhat elaborate wooden shrine in a
dilapidated state. "Few country people," someone said to me, "know who
is enshrined at such a place." It is generally thought that these
shrines are dedicated to the fox. But the foxes are merely the
messengers of the shrine, as is shown by the figures of crouching or