about him like birds of Paradise to a field of grain.

On every side were set up images of the infant Buddha. Around these,
worshipers crowded that they might purchase some portion of the licorice
tea poured over the image and supposed to guard against many evils.

Groups of white-garbed pilgrims from distant cities passed on to
worship, their tinkling bells keeping time to the soft pad of their
sandaled feet. Under the overhanging boughs of the ancient trees were
placed low platforms spread with bright red blankets, and thereon sat
the family groups. In these throngs very few were well off in worldly
possessions. For the masses this day meant curtailment of necessities
for many other days. It was a willing sacrifice, for, having done duty
at the temple and cheerfully contributed their hard-earned "rin," they
yielded themselves up to the enjoyment of being set free, in a space
where neither worry nor want were permitted to enter, where their poor
lives touched something higher or less sordid than themselves. The day
was a gift of the gods and they would be merry, for to-morrow was toil
and poverty. It was neither satisfying nor permanent but all so simple
and happy. Only a heartless stickler for creed and dogma would have
labeled it idolatry or banished from the garden of the temple the
participants who were childlike in their enjoyment.

It took us some time to make our way to the building where Kishimoto
guided us that he with his family might first offer their devotions.
Once there, the ceremony began. I was not expected to participate and
stood aside. It was not without anxiety that I heard the grandfather
give a stern command to Zura to approach and kneel with him before the
great bronze image, and her equally rigid refusal to do so.

With difficulty the proud old Buddhist refrained from creating a scene
before the other worshipers, but it was plain that he was stung to the
quick for the honor of his religion. From the look in his face he only
bided his time.

The girl moved nearer to me and none too quietly mocked priest and
worshiper gaily. Both maid and man seemed determined once for all to
settle the supremacy of will. They were like two warriors measuring
their strength before the final contest. The slip of a dark-eyed girl
seemed an adversary easily disposed of. Though justly angered, her
opponent had learned that if from him she had inherited tenacity of
will, the legacy from her father had been an inv