lly, there she is, behind him; Chrysantheme, almost on all fours,
hidden between the paws of a great granite beast, half tiger, half dog,
against which our fragile tent is leaning.

"She pulled my trousers with her nails, for all the world like a little
cat," said Yves, still full of surprise, "positively like a cat!"

She remains bent double in the most humble form of salutation; she smiles
timidly, afraid of being ill received, and the head of my little
brother-in-law, Bambou, appears smiling too, just above her own. She has
brought this little mousko--[Mousko is the masculine of mousme, and
signifies little boy. Excessive politeness makes it mousko-san (Mr.
little boy).]--with her, perched astride her back; he looks as absurd as
ever, with his shaven head, his long frock and the great bows of his
silken sash. There they stand gazing at us, anxious to know how their
joke will be taken.

For my part, I have not the least idea of giving them a cold reception;
on the contrary, the meeting amuses me. It even strikes me that it is
rather pretty of Chrysantheme to come around in this way, and to bring
Bambou-San to the festival; though it savors somewhat of her low
breeding, to tell the truth, to carry him on her back, as the poorer
Japanese women carry their little ones.

However, let her sit down between Yves and myself and let them bring her
those iced beans she loves so much; and we will take the jolly little
mousko on our knees and cram him with sugar and sweetmeats to his heart's
content.

When the evening is over, and we begin to think of leaving, and of going
down again, Chrysantheme replaces her little Bambou astride upon her
back, and sets forth, bending forward under his weight and painfully
dragging her Cinderella slippers over the granite steps and flagstones.
Yes, decidedly low, this conduct! but low in the best sense of the word:
nothing in it displeases me; I even consider Chrysantheme's affection for
Bambou-San engaging and attractive in its simplicity.

One can not deny this merit to the Japanese--a great love for little
children, and a talent for amusing them, for making them laugh, inventing
comical toys for them, making the morning of their life happy; for a
specialty in dressing them, arranging their heads, and giving to the
whole personage the most fascinating appearance possible. It is the only
thing I really like about this country: the babies and the manner in
which they are understood.

On