es. It
is as if the freshness of early spring and the richness of full summer
were mingled together.

As we wander on over the scented ground we notice, a little way off, a
rather pathetic-looking Japanese in the national costume, with a flat
board or book in his hand. He is looking at us earnestly, and follows on
at a respectful distance behind us.

Next we come upon a quaint little garden on the lines of what we should
call a landscape garden in England, but it is all on a tiny scale, as
if made for dolls to walk in. There is a pond as big as a tea-tray,
walks the breadth of one's foot, wee trees, gnarled with age and twisted
and fully grown, but no higher than your knee. It is all so delicate and
dainty and tiny that we are afraid to walk in it for fear we should
spoil it; we feel thoroughly big and clumsy as Gulliver must have felt
among the Lilliputians, and we expect every minute to see the rightful
owners, wee men and women the size of a man's fingers, rushing out from
the little summer-house with the curved roof at the end, and crying
shrilly to us to go away!

Treading carefully, a foot at a time, along the miniature paths, we pass
through this and go on toward the temple which now appears amid a grove
of deep dark pines. The steps are worn and hollowed, and on each side of
them is an astonishing red figure of a man-monster in a very ferocious
attitude, like that of the lions rampant seen on crests. These figures
are a dark hot red and are dotted all over with white dabs; as we draw
nearer to them we see that these dabs are doubled up bits of white paper
sticking irregularly here and there without any arrangement. We cannot
imagine what they are for, but as we stare we hear a foot crunch the
gravel gently, and the little Jap with the board creeps up and salaams
deeply, making at the same time a curious hissing noise as if he sucked
in his breath. He must be very nervous.

"If the honourable sirs will allow this humble servant to explain," he
begins in fluent and perfect English.

We are only too glad of his help, and not to be outdone in politeness we
simultaneously raise our hats to him. He then tells us that all these
paper pellets are prayers or wishes. People write down what they want on
them and then moisten them in their mouths and spit them out against the
images; if the paper sticks it shows the wish will be granted, if it
falls to the ground then fate is against it. It is not a very beautiful
cus