st simon-pure Japanese shave,
patronizing the village barber while dodging a passing shower. The
Japanese tonsorial artist shaves without the aid of soap, merely wetting
the face by dipping his fingers in a bowl of warm water. During the
operation of shaving he hones the razor frequently on an oil-stone. He
shaves the entire face and neck, not omitting even the lobes of the ear,
the forehead, and nose. If the European traveller didn't keep his senses
about him, while in the barber-chair of a Japanese village, he would find
himself with every particle of fuzz scraped off his face and neck, save,
of course, his regular whiskers or mustache, and with eye-brows
considerably curtailed.

From Ashiyah my road follows up alongside a small tidal canal to
Hakamatsu, traversing a lowland country, devoted entirely to the
cultivation of rice. Scores of coal-barges are floating along the canal,
propelled solely by the flowing of the tide. I can imagine them floating
along until the tide changes, then tying up and waiting patiently until
it ebbs and flows again; from long experience they, no doubt, have come
to calculate upon one, two, or three tides, as the case may be, floating
their barges up to certain landings or villages.

The streets of Hakamatsu present a lively and picturesque scene, swarming
with country people in the gayest of costumes; the stalls are fairly
groaning beneath big piles of tempting eatables, toys, clothing,
lanterns, tissue-paper flowers, and every imaginable Japanese thing.
Street-men are attracting small crowds about them by displaying
curiosities. One old fellow I pause awhile to look at is selling tiny
rolls of colored paper which, when cast into a bowl of water, unfold into
flowers, boats, houses, birds, or animals. In explanation of the
holiday-making, a young man in a custom-house uniform, who knows a few
words of English, explains "Japan God "-it is some religious festival
these smiling, chatting, bowing, and comical-looking crowds are keeping
with such evident relish.

Prom Hakamatsu to Kokura the country is hilly and broken; from Kokura one
can look across the narrow strait and see Shimonoseki, on the mainland of
Japan. Thus far we have been traversing the island of Kiu-shiu, separated
from the main island by a strait but a few hundred yards wide at
Shimonoseki. From Kokura the jinrikisha road leads a couple of ri farther
to Dairi; thence footpaths traverse hills and wax-tree groves for another
t