gabashi. The relationship was very distant at
best; but with nearer relatives in general, and with Yoemon his brother
in particular, the master of Tamiya had deadly feud. To them he would
not turn to find a husband for O'Iwa.

Thus it happened that one day in the seventh month (August)
Rokuro[u]bei was awaiting the appearance of Yamada Cho[u]bei. He really
knew little about the man, but Cho[u]bei at one time had been resident
in the ward. He had undergone vicissitudes, and now was a dealer in
metals and a kind of broker in everything under the sign of Musashiya.
He had a wide acquaintance over Edo in his different businesses, and was
the easy and slip-shod means by which Rokuro[u]bei would avoid the more
arduous part of the task laid on him by Matazaemon. Cho[u]bei was not
long in putting in an appearance. All affairs were gifts of the gods to
a man who lived on wind. Kazaguruma Cho[u]bei--Windmill Cho[u]bei--he
was called. His flittings were so noiseless and erratic, just like the
little paper windmills made for children, that the nickname applied
exactly fitted him. The maid in announcing him showed no particular
politeness. "Wait here a moment.... Danna Sama (master), Cho[u]bei San,
the metal dealer, requests an interview."--"Ah! Pass him here at
once.... Is it Cho[u]bei? Please sit down." Cho[u]bei had followed
almost on the girl's footsteps. She drew aside to make room for him,
then flirted out in haste. Poverty and dislike had no influence in
Yotsuya in those days. She seemed to scent the man.

Cho[u]bei looked with envy at the comfortable Rokuro[u]bei. The day was
hot. The thin _kimono_ fallen about his loins, the latter's garb was a
pair of drawers and a thin shirt. He sat looking out on the garden, with
its shade of large trees, its shrubbery and rock work. Everything was
dripping with the water industriously splashed to this side and to that
by the serving man. The tea was brought and Kondo[u] at last remembered
that he had a guest. As he turned--"It is a long time since a visit has
been paid. Deign to pardon the intrusion." Cho[u]bei sighed in making
this remark. The irony was lost on his fat host. As Rokuro[u]bei seemed
unwilling, or hardly to know how to impart the subject concerning which
he had summoned him, Cho[u]bei continued--"And the honoured health, is
it good? The honoured business, is it on some matter of moment that
Cho[u]bei is summoned?" Rokuro[u]bei woke up under the direct question.
He, too,