n the Parks."

"Let us enjoy what lies to our hand, you Philistine." And we did till a
cloud darkened and a wind ruffled the river reaches, and we returned to
our 'rickshaws sighing with contentment.

"How many people do you suppose the land supports to the square mile?"
said the Professor, at a turn in the homeward road. He had been reading
statistics.

"Nine hundred," I said at a venture. "It's thicker set with humans than
Sarun or Behar. Say one thousand."

"Two thousand two hundred and fifty odd. Can you believe it?"

"Looking at the landscape I can, but I don't suppose India will believe
it. S'pose I write fifteen hundred?"

"They'll say you exaggerate just the same. Better stick to the true
total. Two thousand two hundred and fifty-six to the square mile, and
not a sign of poverty in the houses. How do they do it?"

I should like to know the answer to that question. Japan of my limited
view is inhabited almost entirely by little children whose duty is to
prevent their elders from becoming too frivolous. The babies do a little
work occasionally, but their parents interfere by petting them. At
Yami's hotel the attendance is in the hands of ten-year-olds because
everybody else has gone out picnicing among the cherry trees. The little
imps find time to do a man's work and to scuffle on the staircase
between whiles. My special servitor, called "The Bishop" on account of
the gravity of his appearance, his blue apron, and gaiters, is the
liveliest of the lot, but even his energy cannot account for the
Professor's statistics of population....

I have seen one sort of work among the Japanese, but it was not the kind
that makes crops. It was purely artistic. A ward of the city of Kioto is
devoted to manufactures. A manufacturer in this part of the world does
not hang out a sign. He may be known in Paris and New York: that is the
concern of the two cities. The Englishman who wishes to find his
establishment in Kioto has to hunt for him up and down slums with the
aid of a guide. I have seen three manufactories. The first was of
porcelain-ware, the second of _cloissonnee_, and the third of lacquer,
inlay, and bronzes. The first was behind black wooden palings, and for
external appearance might just as well have been a tripe-shop. Inside
sat the manager opposite a tiny garden four feet square in which a
papery-looking palm grew out of a coarse stoneware pot and overshadowed
a dwarfed pine. The rest of the room was fill