e sitting in Mr.
Fukuchi's own room overlooking the river with a distant view of the sea.
Books, all Japanese, were heaped up in an alcove, while the only
furniture the room possessed was a very fine kakemono and a little
narrow table. While we were talking, one of Fukuchi's little children, a
boy of eight, entered, carrying with him his collection of butterflies,
which, he thought, might chance to interest me. He showed me a catalogue
which he was preparing for them. It was so admirably compiled that it
would have been good enough for a special work on the subject.

[Illustration: OUTSIDE KIOTO]

Fukuchi's ideal actor is Danjuro, and during the conversation he was
constantly referring to him. "Of all the actors I like Danjuro the
best," he said, "because he is an artist and understands colour, besides
having a keen appreciation for harmony in the general arrangements." He
told me that Danjuro is the one actor in Japan who can take the part of
a woman to perfection. Many actors on the stage can keep the figure of a
woman for five minutes at a time, but rarely longer, so painful are the
poses, owing to the throwing back of the shoulders and the turning in
of the knees. But Danjuro can go on and on indefinitely in this role,
and so remarkable is he that even a Japanese woman is unable to detect
one false move. On one occasion, when taking this part at a theatre in
Yokohama before an audience composed chiefly of women, he happened to
make a slip and by some slight error proved himself the man. In an
instant the whole audience felt it, and the effect produced on them was
simply astounding! For once they nearly laughed, an unheard-of thing
with a Japanese audience: to see a woman turn so suddenly into a man was
too much for their equanimity.

Danjuro's finest and most artistic bit of acting is in Japan's greatest
tragedy, _The Chushingura_, in the part of Goto, who, returning to his
lord intoxicated, falls asleep by the wayside. His master, finding him,
fires off a gun close to his ear. "Most actors," said Mr. Fukuchi,
"would fall asleep with their backs to the audience, and when waking
depend upon 'make-up' for an altered expression. Danjuro sleeps with his
face to the audience, and on the gun firing wakes up with an entirely
altered expression through the contraction of the facial muscles."

I was curious to know from Fukuchi what were the duties of the
stage-manager in Japan. For some time he looked thoughtful, as thou