tants. All those who can afford it go in rickshaws, which pass us
every minute, and the others wear clogs which lift them high out of the
dirt. These clogs are called _geta_, and they are the funniest footwear
to be found anywhere. You would find it more difficult to get about on
them than on roller-skates, but the Japs are so much used to them that
they trip along morning, noon, and night in them without being the least
tired. They are simply little stools of wood, one flat piece being
supported by two smaller ones at the toe and heel, and they are held on
by straps across the foot. Men, women, and children are thus raised
inches out of the mud, and patter about, ting-tang, ting-tang, all day
long. Some of the women have coarse white stockings made with a separate
stall for the big toe, on the model of a baby's glove, so that the geta
strap can go through.

[Illustration: GETA CLOGS.]

We have now got into the middle of the town where the more populous
streets are. You ought to notice how the colours of the clothes differ
for the different ages of the people: the grandmothers and grandfathers
wear dark purples and sombre hues; the middle-aged people have soft
colouring, grey greens and palish shades; and the children are very gay,
in every imaginable colour and often all mixed together. The girls have
all a broad sash called an _obi_, humped up in a funny way behind their
bodies; in the children this becomes a great bow like the wings of a
butterfly. The people are small, and were it not for the clogs they
would look smaller still; their country is not little, for Japan is
larger than the United Kingdom, but the people are rarely tall, and they
are slenderly built, with small bones, so that being among them makes an
ordinary fair-sized Englishman feel clumsy and long-limbed. Now we are
in the main street of all. Here comes a tram filled with Japanese, all
smiling and chattering and looking happy; they take life with a smile.
The houses here are larger than those we have passed, and some are just
European buildings of stone, and the shop-windows are filled with glass,
and show as fine a display as in the best London shops. There are many
entirely for the sale of Western things, and others for the things of
the country--the beautiful embroideries and silks, and silver-work and
lacquer-work and carving, which you know so well by sight at home, for
it is sent over in large quantities now, and anyone can buy it in London
a