assed a bamboo grove, whose huge plumes, black in
the darkness, danced and beckoned like the Erl-king's daughters. They
passed a little house shuttered like a Noah's Ark, from which came a
monotonous moaning sound as of some one in pain, and the rhythmic beat
of a wooden clapper.

"What is that?" asked Asako.

"That is my father's brother's house. But he is illegitimate brother;
he is not of the true family. He is a very pious man. He repeats the
prayer to Buddha ten thousand times every day; and he beats upon the
_mokugy[=o]_ a kind of drum like a fish which the Buddhist priests use."

"Was he at the dinner last night?" asked Asako.

"Oh no, he never goes out. He has not once left that house for ten
years. He is perhaps rather mad; but it is said that he brings good
luck to the family."

A little farther on they passed two stone lanterns, cold and blind
like tombstones. Stone steps rose between them to what in the darkness
looked like a large dog-kennel. A lighted paper lantern hung in front
of it like a great ripe fruit.

"What is that?" asked Asako.

In the failing twilight this fairy garden was becoming more and more
wonderful. At any moment, she felt she might meet the Emperor himself
in the white robes of ancient days and the black coal-scuttle hat.

"That is a little temple," explained her cousin, "for Inari Sama."

At the top of the flight of steps Asako distinguished two stone foxes.
Their expression was hungry and malign. They reminded her of--what?
She remembered the little temple outside the Yoshiwara on the day she
had gone to see the procession.

"Do you say prayers there?" she asked her companion.

"No, _I_ do not," answered the Japanese, "but the servants light
the lamp every evening; and we believe it makes the house lucky.
We Japanese are very superstitious. Besides, it looks pretty in the
garden."

"I don't like the foxes' faces," said Asako, "they look bad
creatures."

"They _are_ bad creatures," was the reply, "nobody likes to see a fox;
they fool people."

"Then why say prayers, if they are bad?"

"It is just because they are bad," said Sadako, "that we must please
them. We flatter them so that they may not hurt us."

Asako was unlearned in the difference between religion and
devil-worship, so she did not understand the full significance of this
remark. But she felt an unpleasant reaction, the first which she had
received that day; and she thought to herself that if she were th