the presumption to seat
you next herself. You are her guest, and must be made happy by being
placed in the near neighbourhood of the principal and most beautiful
object in the room, which is invariably the arrangement of flowers. And
a vase of flowers in a Japanese house is at once a picture and a poem,
being always in perfect harmony with the surroundings. The art of
arranging flowers is an exact science, in the study of which seven years
of constant hard work finds a man but fairly proficient. In fact, to
create a really fine arrangement is just as difficult as to paint an
equally fine picture. Every leaf and every flower has to be drawn and
practically modelled into form, while even so simple a thing as the
bending of a twig requires much care and knowledge. To become a master
in the art of flower-arrangement a man must study for at least fourteen
years, devoting the remainder of his life to perfecting and improving
it.

[Illustration: A WISTARIA GARDEN]

There are scores of different arrangements that one must learn, and
volumes upon volumes of designs, showing all the most delicate and
subtle forms of placing which a master, in order to create perfect
balance, must have at his fingers' ends. These ancient designs are so
perfect that it is almost impossible to change them or to insert any
original work into them. Here and there, indeed, some great master will
make a slight variation in the arrangement of a particular flower, and
in a very short time that variation is trumpeted throughout the country
and known in all art sections. To a Westerner this seems incredible. He
affirms that if he jumbles a bunch of flowers together in a vase he can
create a different effect every time. Very probably, and he can also
strew roses and cut flowers all over his dining-table if he likes;
but he will still be creating nothing more than a jumble. If he were to
think out the arrangement of his table from an artistic point of view as
a bit of decoration, he would find it impossible to produce such a
wealth of inartistic variety. "But," argues the uninitiated Westerner,
"these roses strewn carelessly over our tables, and bunches of flowers
stuck loosely into vases, are far more natural than the single stiff
bough of blossom of Japanese decoration. Flowers grow in Nature
carelessly and wildly, and therefore they must be arranged to look like
that." Now, it is always difficult to answer these people, for the
dining-table of the West