essers hung with unfamiliar implements in white
metal and white wood: the brightly labelled casks of _sake_ and
_shoyu_ (sauce) waiting in the darkness like the deputation of a
friendly society in its insignia of office: the silent jars of tea,
greenish in colour and ticketed with strange characters, the names of
the respective tea-gardens: the iron kettle hanging on gibbet chains
from the top of the ceiling over a charcoal fire sunk in the floor;
the tasteful design of the commonest earthenware bowl: the little
board and chopper for slicing the raw fish: the clean white rice-tubs
with their brass bindings polished and shining: the odd shape and
entirely Japanese character which distinguished the most ordinary
things, and gave to the short squat knives a romantic air and to the
broad wooden spoons a suggestion of witchcraft: finally, the little
shrine to the Kitchen God, perched on a shelf close to the ceiling,
looking like the facade of a doll's temple, and decorated with brass
vases, dry grasses, and strips of white paper. The wide kitchen was
impregnated with a smell already familiar to Asako's nose, one of
the most typical odours of Japan, the smell of native cooking, humid,
acrid and heavy like the smell of wood smoke from damp logs, with
a sour and rotten flavour to it contributed by a kind of pickled
horse-radish called _Daikon_ or the Great Root, dear to the Japanese
palate.

The central ceremony of Asako's visit was her introduction to the
memory of her dead parents. She was taken to a small room, where the
alcove, the place of honour, was occupied by a closed cabinet, the
_butsudan_ (Buddha shelf), a beautiful piece of joiner's work in a
kind of lattice pattern covered with red lacquer and gold. Sadako,
approaching, reverently opened this shrine. The interior was all gilt
with a dazzling gold like that used an old manuscripts. In the centre
of this glory sat a golden-faced Buddha with dark blue hair and cloak,
and an aureole of golden rays. Below him were arranged the _ihai_, the
Tablets of the Dead, miniature grave-stones about one foot high, with
a black surface edged with gold upon which were inscribed the names of
the dead persons, the new names given by the priests.

Sadako stepped back and clapped her hands together three times,
repeating the formula of the Nichiren Sect of Buddhists.

"_Namu my[=o]h[=o] renge ky[=o]!_ (Adoration to the Wonderful Law of
the Lotus Scriptures!)"

She instructed Asako