te balustrades eaten away
by lichen. All the objects there wear the strange grimace, the quaint
arrangement familiar to us in the most antique Japanese drawings.

I walked through it all at the burning hour of midday, and saw not a
soul, unless, indeed, through the open windows of the bonze-houses, I
caught sight of some few priests, guardians of tombs or sanctuaries,
taking their siesta under dark-blue gauze nets.

Suddenly this little mousme appeared, a little above me, just at the
point of the arch of one of these bridges carpeted with gray moss; she
was in full sunshine, and stood out in brilliant clearness, like a fairy
vision, against the background of old black temples and deep shadows.
She was holding her robe together with one hand, gathering it close
round her ankles to give herself an air of greater slimness. Over her
quaint little head, her round umbrella with its thousand ribs threw a
great halo of blue and red, edged with black, and an oleander-tree full
of flowers, growing among the stones of the bridge, spread its glory
beside her, bathed, like herself, in the sunshine. Behind this youthful
figure and this flowering shrub all was blackness. Upon the pretty red
and blue parasol great white letters formed this inscription, much used
among the mousmes, and which I have learned to recognize: 'Stop! clouds,
to see her pass!' And it was really worth the trouble to stop and look
at this exquisite little person, of a type so ideally Japanese.

However, it will not do to stop too long and be ensnared--it would only
be another delusion. A doll like the rest, evidently, an ornament for a
china shelf, and nothing more. While I gaze at her, I say to myself that
Chrysantheme, appearing in this same place, with this dress, this play
of light, and this aureole of sunshine, would produce just as delightful
an effect.

For Chrysantheme is pretty, there can be no doubt about it. Yesterday
evening, in fact, I positively admired her. It was quite night; we
were returning with the usual escort of little married couples like
ourselves, from the inevitable tour of the tea-houses and bazaars. While
the other mousmes walked along hand in hand, adorned with new silver
topknots which they had succeeded in having presented to them, and
amusing themselves with playthings, she, pleading fatigue, followed,
half reclining, in a djin carriage. We had placed beside her
great bunches of flowers destined to fill our vases, late iris and