no
feet.

'Well, well,' said the man, 'you can't be Urashima Taro, whatever you
say, for he lived three hundred years ago, and you are not yet thirty.'

With this the man banged the door in Urashima's face.

What could it all mean? Urashima Taro dead. Lived three hundred years
ago. What nonsense! He must be dreaming. He pinched his ear and assured
himself that he was not only alive, but wide awake. And yet--and
yet--everything about him seemed very much changed since he saw it last.
He stood stock still on his way to the gate, and looked this way and
that, trying to find something that had suffered only three days'
change. But everything was unfamiliar.

Then an idea struck him. On the morning of the day that he had rescued
the tortoise from the boys, he had planted a little willow slip down by
the pond in the field. He would go and look at it, and that would settle
the matter.

So he took his way to the pond. Half-way he was baulked by a hedge, high
and thick, which was new to him, but he found a way through a gap. Well
he remembered the exact spot where he had planted the willow slip on the
edge of the pond, but, when he arrived there, he could see no sign of
it. In its place was a gigantic trunk bearing vast branches which
towered overhead. And there the birds were singing the same songs as
they sang--three days ago! Alas! could it indeed be three _centuries_
ago?

Perplexed beyond measure, Urashima resolved to go to the fountain-head
and settle the matter once and for all. Turning away, he made all haste
to the village--was this the village he had known?--and inquired of a
countryman he had never seen before, where the village chronicles were
kept.

'Yonder,' said the man, pointing to a building which had certainly taken
more than three days to erect.

Urashima thanked him and then hastened to the building and went in. He
was not long in finding what he wanted. It was an ancient entry, and it
ran:

'Urashima Taro--a famous fisherman who lived in the early part of the
fourteenth century--the traditional patron demi-god of fishermen. There
are many stories concerning this half-mythical character, chief of which
is that he hooked a whale far from shore, and, as he would not
relinquish the prize, his boat was dragged for ever and ever over the
surface of the sea. Mariners of the present day solemnly aver that they
have seen Urashima Taro sitting in his boat skimming the waves as he
held the line by which he