This Scheming World Read online

  IT’S EXPENSIVE TO LIE WHEN YOU’RE LYING LOW

  EVERYONE was getting his forehead shaved and his hair dressed and donning holiday attire. So far as appearances went, a universal mood of festivity prevailed throughout the country in keeping with the New Year. But actually everybody was not facing the New Year in exactly the same fashion.

  For example, there was one man who was so hard pressed that he determined not to pay any of his bills at all. On New Year’s Eve, no sooner had he finished his breakfast than he put on his haori, and with his short sword at his side made ready to disappear temporarily. In an effort to placate his wife he said to her, “You must learn that above all the most important thing is perseverance. There will come a time,” he continued, “when our circumstances will improve, and then you can ride about in a sedan chair. Remember, there’s still some leftover duck meat from last night’s supper. Warm it over, seasoning it with sake, and eat it. When the bill collectors come, pay them all the money there is in the house. But, mind you! Keep back one kan for your treasure-drawing game. When the money on hand is all gone, just let matters look after themselves, and lie in bed with your back to the bill collectors.” So speaking, the fellow hurriedly left home. Is it any wonder “ that the man was bankrupt? Seeing his funds grow shorter day after day, he had failed to come up with any ready plan to improve the situation. Woe to the wife of such a fellow: she looks old while not yet a mother. On this day of days, when every single mon counted, he put two or three one-bu coins and about thirty momme of silver in his purse and set out for a tavern which he’d never visited before.

  “Oh,” he said to the mistress as he entered the tavern, “you haven’t settled your accounts yet, have you? Just look at all those bills, scattered about like a thousand letters. I’d say they must add up to two or three kart. Well, each household has its own expenses to meet, you know,” he continued glibly. “Why, I’ve got to pay the draper alone six and a half kan. Pity a man whose wife is so extravagant. It would really be much better for me to get a divorce and spend what it costs to keep her on other women. Unfortunately, however, I can’t do it because my wife became pregnant last March, and just this very morning her labor pains started. They say the baby will be born today, but even before it’s born they’re already making a great fuss over the choice of its swaddling clothes. They send for the wet nurse. Then midwives come-three or four of them. Then the family conjurer comes to charm and change the unborn infant from a girl into a boy. On top of that they have to prepare a bellyband, a cowrie shell, and a sea horse to be held in her left hand. The family doctor is busy in the next room boiling some birth-inducing herbs. Why, they even have stems of mushrooms ready, but goodness knows what they’re for. Worst of all, my mother-in-law has just arrived, and she goes around poking her nose into everything, whether she’s welcome or not. How utterly hilarious! Fortunately for me, however, they tell me I’m not supposed to be in the house; so I just dropped in here to pass the time away. Since you’ve never heard about my good fortune, I’m afraid you may think I’m here to escape the bill collectors, since it’s New Year’s Eve. But believe you me, I’m a man who owes nothing at all to anybody in this whole island. Do you mind if I stay here until the baby is born? I’ll pay you in cash.

  By the way, that yellowtail on the fish hanger is too small; it just won’t do. Here; you’d better buy a bigger one right away.” So saying, the customer plunked down a one-bu gold coin, which delighted the mistress no end and brought a smile on her face.

  “How lucky!, she exclaimed. “I’ll keep this a secret from my husband and buy an obi with it to satisfy a longstanding desire. It’s really good luck to have such a generous customer as you to come in on New Year’s Eve. It’s a sure sign, I believe, we’ll have good luck all next year. By the way, you’re much too fine a fellow to stay here in the kitchen. Why don’t you move into the regular room?” she urged him sweetly.

  “Well, all right,” he replied. “But just remember that

  I’m an awfully particular eater, altogether different from other people.” It was simply comical to see the way the mistress drew sake out of a special cask and warmed it up for him. After that, she tossed her hairpin on the floor for mat divination, and counted the number of seams from where it fell to the border of the mat, to see whether they were odd or even. Three times she tried, and each time the result came out the same, indicating for certain that the baby would be a boy. Thus the prediction of the mistress and the pure fabrication of the customer coincided perfectly.

  To hum a popular song to the accompaniment of a woman’s samisen at the year end, without regard to the convenience of the neighbors, is a form of amusement permitted only in the licensed quarters. In accord with the line of the song that runs so appropriately, “Leading a life of lamenting,” most people of this world, with a load of care on their minds, come to the very last day of the year, only to discover that it is much too long.

  Ordinarily people regret the all too swift passage of the days, but this particular day is an exception. When it finally arrives, people usually wish just the opposite.

  The entertainer who had been called into the inn for the customer’s comfort feigned gaiety as part of her service. Although she did not feel happy, she spoke with a smile on her face: “What a pity it is that the years flit by one after another!” she said. “Last year the arrival of the New Year was delightful to me, for I could play battledore and shuttlecock, but now I’m nineteen years old. It won’t be long before I’ll have to sew up the slits in my kimono sleeves and be addressed as ‘Madame.’ I’m sorry to say that this may be the last year I’ll be able to wear long sleeved kimono.”

  Unfortunately for the entertainer, the customer had a good memory, and replied, “The last time I met you at the Hanaya you were wearing kimono with round sleeves and saying you’d be nineteen that very day. That must have been about twenty years ago. So by now you must be at least thirty nine, but you’re still wearing longsleeved kimono. What in the world could you have to regret? It’s all to your advantage to be of small build, because it makes you look young.’’ Thus unsparingly he reminded her of her old line of talk, while the woman could only sit quietly, with hands folded in apology: So the man gave up being particular about her age, and the two of them had a peaceful sleep in a friendly bed.

  An old woman who seemed to be her mother appeared later, and called her out of the room. After mentioning one or two trivial things in conversation, the mother was then heard to remark that it was the last time she would see her daughter. For the want of fourteen or fifteen momme she was on her way to drown herself. On hearing this the younger woman burst into tears. Then she stripped off the padded silk haori she was wearing, wrapped it in a furoshiki, and gave it to her mother. The man was incapable of viewing this touching scene with indifference. So before the old woman left, once more a one-bu coin disappeared from his purse.

  Feeling in high spirits after this bit of charity, his voice correspondingly rose higher. Now it happened that two servants of one of his creditors who were in the inn heard and recognized his voice. Whereupon they entered the room and cried out, “So here you are at last! We’ve been by your house several times since this morning, but each time we couldn’t find you because you were out. Isn’t it lucky we met you here!”

  Then they transacted a bit of business with him. In the end, they relieved him of all his cash, together with his haori, his short sword, and one of his kimono. “And by January 5th,” they reminded him as they left, “we’ll expect you to pay the balance due.”

  The customer, though considerably out of countenance, managed to squeeze out a rather lame excuse. “I’ve got to see a friend of mine who has just sent word that he needs me to help him out,” he explained. “In any case, it was injudicious of me to leave home on New Year’s Eve.” Thus putting up a front of respectability, he left the inn at daybreak. As he went off, the people in the tavern laughed and sa
id, “Why, even a fool has more sense than that fellow!”

  SENSIBLE ADVICE ON DOMESTIC ECONOMY

  “THE IMMUTABLE rule in regard to the division of family property at the time of marriage,” said the experienced go-between from Kyoto, “is as follows: Let us suppose that a certain man is worth a thousand kan. To the eldest son at his marriage will go four hundred kan, together with the family residence. The second son’s share will be three hundred kan, and he too is entitled to a house of his own. The third son will be adopted into another family, requiring a portion of one hundred kan. If there is a daughter, her dowry will be thirty kan, in addition to a bridal trousseau worth twenty kan. It is advisable to marry her off to the son of a family of lower financial status. Formerly it was not unusual to spend forty kan on the trossseau and allot ten kan for the dowry, but because people today are more. interested in cash, it is now customary to give the daughter silver in the lacquered chest and copper in the extra one. Even if the girl is so ugly that she can’t afford to sit near the candle at night, that dowry of thirty kan will make her bloom into a very flowery bride!

  “But be that as it may,” continued the voice of experience, “there is certainly more to be said. Keep in mind that she is the spoiled darling of rich parents, accustomed to being fed on the choicest viands and daintiest morsels. Her round face with protruding cheekbones is really not so bad to look at after all. That bulging forehead, of course, will enable her to wear the bridal headdress more gracefully. Her wide-set nostrils are but a guarantee that she will never be short of breath. Her sparse hair will make it cool for her in summer. Her ample waistline will prove to be no drawback if she will only cover it with a magnificent over-garment. Her fat fingers will enable her to grasp all the more firmly the neck of the midwife.

  “You see,” argued the veteran of many a successful match, “it is possible to offer a plausible defense for any defect. In matchmaking, money is a very important consideration. If thirty kan of silver is deposited with a trustworthy merchant at six-tenths per cent interest per month, the income will total one hundred and eighty momme monthly, which will more than suffice to support four women: the bride, her personal maid, a second maid, and a seamstress. How unselfish must be the disposition of a bride who will not only look after the household faithfully, meantime taking care never to displease her husband’s family, but also at the same time will actually pay for the food she eats ! If you are looking merely for beauty, then go where women are made up solely to that end, to the licensed quarters. You are free to visit them any time of night you may wish, and thoroughly enjoy it, but next morning you will have to pay out seventy-one momme-which is not in the least enjoyable!

  “A more thorough investigation will reveal the fact that the sake served at a brothel amounts to four bu, while in a house of ill fame the rice and tea consumed will cost eight bu. When you actually come to think of it,” continued the man of experience, “you will realize that though the cost is exhorbitant it is but inevitable, for as with ‘Baking pans of double price,’ a margin to protect against loss must be added to the selling price. Not infrequently a customer will run out on his bill, in utter and base disregard for all sense of love and duty. Since it is impossible for the master to collect the money from him, his name will be crossed off his account book and the rascal himself given up as dead. Whereupon the master will solemnly strike the brazier with the fire tongs and utter a fearsome imprecation: ‘May the gods damn him to the hell of starvation as punishment for his dishonesty! May all his baked ducks, his cedar-smoked roast fish, and every other delicacy he likes to order to appease his epicurean tastes, be burned to cinders, that he may be taught how terrible is the punishment for the crime of cheating on his debts !’ This curse he utters with a look of horror, quite different from the expression on his face when receiving a striped harm made in the province of Hida.

  “It is better on the whole,” continued the wise old go between, “to give up dissipation in good time, for a roue is seldom happy in later life. So even if life at home seems dry and tasteless, you’d better have patience with a supper of cold rice, potluck bean curd, and dried fish. You can always have one of your tenants repeat for you the story of Lord Itakura’s gourd justice, just for the fun of it. Or you may lie down whenever you like, at perfect ease, and have a maid massage you down to the very tips of your toes. If you want tea, you may sip it while your wife holds the cup for you. A man in his own household is the commander supreme, whose authority none will dare to question , and there is none to condemn you. There’s no need to seek further for genuine pleasure.

  “Then, too, there are certain business advantages to staying home. Your clerks will stop their imprudent visits to the Yasaka quarters and their clandestine meetings at that rendezvous in Oike. And when in the shop, since they can’t appear to be completely idle, maybe they’ll look over those reports from the Edo branch office, or do some other work that they have been putting off doing-all to the profit of you, the master! The apprentice boys will diligently twist wastepaper into string, and in order to impress you, the master, sitting in the inner room, they will practice penmanship to their profit. Kyushichi, whose habit it is to retire early, will take the straw packing from around the yellowtail and make rope on which to string coins; while Take, in order to make things go more smoothly tomorrow, will prepare the vegetables for breakfast. The seamstress during the time you’re at home will take off as many knots of Hino silk as she ordinarily does in a whole day. Even the cat keeps a wary watch in the kitchen and when she hears the least sound in the vicinity of the fish hanger she will me to scare away the rats. If such unmeasured profit as this results from the master’s remaining at home just one night, think how vast will be the benefits that will accrue within the space of a whole year! So even if you are not entirely satisfied with your wife, you have to exercise discretion and realize that in the gay quarters all is but vanity. For a young master to be well aware of this is the secret of the successful running of his household.”

  Such was the counsel offered by the veteran go-between from Kyoto on New Year’s Eve. Though he dwelt upon it at some length, it was advice well worth listening to.

  Be that as it may, let me say that the women of today, under the influence of the styles of the gay quarters, dress exactly like professional entertainers. Prominent drapers’ wives, who in public are addressed as mesdames, are so attired as to be mistaken for high-class courtesans; while the wives of small shopkeepers, who once served as clerks of the drapers, look exactly like courtesans one grade lower. Again, the kimono worn by wives of tailors and embroiderers who live on side streets bear a startling resemblance to those of the women employed in tea houses. It is fun to spot them in a crowd dressed in conformity with their respective degrees of fortune. A woman, after all, is only a woman: there are few, if any, marked differences between professionals and non-professionals. But by comparison the non-professionals seem slow-witted, ungainly, and unrefined in letter writing. Neither can they drink sake in nearly so graceful a manner as the professionals. Nor can they sing songs. They wear their kimono so clumsily that they seem to hang loose about them. They move so awkwardly that when walking down the street they’re unsteady on their feet. In bed they can talk of nothing but bean paste and salt. They’re so stingy that when blowing their nose they use only a single sheet of paper. They never even heard of aloeswood, thinking it might possibly be some kind of medicine. In any and in all respects they are disappointing, and even in their hair styles, which are copied after those of professional courtesans, there is a world of difference.

  Any courtesan-chaser must be an exceptionally smart fellow. Despite his cleverness, however, and his knowledge that money is hard to earn, he won’t pay his debts though urgently pressed to do so-not even when he is under indictment for non-payment. Yet he dares to reserve the services of his favorite courtesan for the entire New Year’s season, in utter disregard of the cost. He will even pay in advance th
e whole bill as early as December 13th, the very first day of the preparation season for the New Year.

  Shrewd though this fellow is about many things, he is blinded by the pleasures he finds in the gay quarters.

  A prosperous merchant of Karasuma Street, Kyoto, on retiring from business, gave to each of his two sons five hundred kan. The younger son steadily increased his wealth, until all his relatives believed that he was worth two thousand kan. As for the elder son, when New Year’s Eve rolled around in the fourth year of his independence, he felt compelled to utter a fervent prayer of thanksgiving to God that the night was dark. Had the moon been shining brightly, the memory of his former respectability would never have allowed him to walk the streets of Kyoto selling pepper. Under cover of darkness, with head and face concealed in a paper hood, he wandered about unnoticed, a poor peddler of pepper, till the New Year dawned upon him. The place to which his aimless feet had carried him was none other than the Tamba Highway, which was also the entrance to the Shimabara gay quarter. Memories of better days came back to him, when he used to enter that very gate at dawn. But now he had to turn his weary footsteps homeward.

  LIFE AND DOORPOSTS: BOTH ARE BORROWED

  GENERALLY speaking, when we get accustomed to something, it no longer worries us. At the entrance of Shimabara, the notorious gay quarter of the capital, there is a certain stretch of rice field, through which runs the ‘Lane of Shusaka,’ famous in the popular ballad. In autumn when the rice is ripening, the farmers make a scarecrow to frighten the birds away. They set it up in the field with an old sedge-straw hat on its head and a bamboo stick in its hand. But as the kites and crows are used to seeing the great sedge hats with the familiar shop brands on them, worn by those pleasure seekers who visit the quarter, they are no longer scared away, probably taking the scarecrow to be some lone pleasure seeker. By and by they even dare to perch on the hat, treating the straw man as just another stray man-about-town.