of flour
in the house. As even the sun has specks on it, I saw no reason to be
too critical of my understudy, whose shortcomings grew less as she grew
prettier.

With all the cocksureness of youth, Zura seized the domestic steering
gear. Sometimes the weather was very fair and we sailed along. Often it
was squally, but the crew was merry, and I was happy. I had something of
my very own to love.

To Pine Tree and Maple Leaf and the ancient cook the young housekeeper
was a gifted being from a wonderful country where every woman was a
princess. Unquestioningly they obeyed and adored her, but Ishi to whom
no woman was a princess and all of them nuisances--stood proof against
Zura's every smile and coaxing word. Love of flowers amounted to a
passion with the old gardener. To him they were living, breathing beings
to be adored and jealously protected. His forefathers had ever been
keepers of this place. He inherited all their garden skill and his equal
could not be found in the Empire. For that reason, I forgave his
backsliding seventy times one hundred and seventy, and kept him.

Often Zura took the children she used as models for her pictures into
the garden and loaded them with flowers. On the mossy banks they romped
and indulged in feasts of tea and crackers. Ishi would stand near and
invoke the vengeance of eighty thousand deities to descend and
annihilate this forward girl from a land of barbarians. Finding his
deities failed to respond, he threatened to cast his unworthy body upon
the point of a sword, if Zura cut another bud. But I knew, if Ishi's
love of flowers failed to prevent so tragic an end, his love of sake
would do so.

For years the garden had been his undisturbed kingdom, and now that it
should be invaded and the flowers cut without his permission and
frequently without his knowledge enraged him to the bursting point. His
habits were as set as the wart on his nose and he proposed to change
neither one nor the other. "Most very bad," he wailed to me. "All
blossoms soul have got. Bad girl cut off head of same; peaceful makes
absence from their hearts. Their weep strikes my ear."

So on the day we were to celebrate Thanksgiving and Jane's happiness,
and Zura had declared her intention of decorating every spot in the
house, I was not surprised to hear coming from the garden sounds of an
overheated argument. "Ishi, if it weren't for hurting the feelings of
the august pig I would say you were it. Stand asid