Shank's Mare

by Ikku Jippensha

  Yaji was astonished for a moment, but looking at the man attentively he recognised him as the rice-dealer Tarobei, who lived in the same street in Edo. It fact, he was the very rice-dealer whose bill he had left unpaid when he set out from the city.

  'Halloa, Master Tarobei,' he said shamefacedly. 'Glad to meet you, though it's rather embarrassing.'

  'Not a bit,' said Tarobei. 'I'm one of a party here, —in fact they look upon me as the leader, so I had to come. But I'm glad to see you. It does one's eyes good to see an old friend when you're travelling. Let's go in and have a cup.'

  'Thank you,' said Yaji.

  'Who's your companion?' asked Tarobei. 'I think I've seen him before. Glad to meet you both. Won't you join our party? It won't cost you much, or if you join as my servant it won't cost you anything, and you can have a good feed. What do you say?'

  'I should like nothing better if I may,' replied Yaji.

  'That's all right,' said Tarobei. 'I'm the leader of the party so that will be all right. Come in, come in.'

  Yaji took off his sandals and having told the countryman to wait for him, went in.

  'Come along, come along, the two of you,' said Tarobei, and Kita also went in.

  The countryman continued to sit in front of the teahouse and drink his sake, while inside all were feasting and talking and laughing. Soon another party of travellers arrived in kago, the leader this time being a Westcountryman.

  'Ho-yoi-yoi! Ekkorasassa! Ekkorasassa!' cried the kago carriers and the kago were set down and all the party entered the teahouse. They were ushered into an inner room by a maid, and they also began to feast and make merry. It so happened that both parties finished their repast at the same time and came out of the teahouse together.

  'Please get into your kago,' called out the leader of the Edo party, and after a great deal of running about and confusion everybody got into a kago.

  'Come along, Yajirobei,' said Tarobei, who was a little flushed with sake. 'You must ride in my kago.'

  'No, no,' said Yaji. 'I couldn't think of it.'

  'I want to walk for a change,' said Tarobei. 'Get in, get in.'

  'You're very kind, —exceedingly kind,' said Yaji, and he got in.

  Both parties starting at the same time, and there being much confusion, Yaji's carriers made a mistake and got among the carriers of the Westcountry party without knowing it. Nobody took any notice and they went quickly through the streets of Yamada. Now the priest attached to the Edo party belonged to a different shrine to the priest attached to the Westcountry party, so that the Edo party branched off at a turning to the left and the Westcountry party went straight on. Yaji's carriers being mixed up with the Westcountry party kept straight on, and turned with the others into a building, out of which came a gentleman in ceremonial attire to meet them. All the party got out and went inside and Yaji went with them, but he was astonished when he got inside to find that they were all strangers.

  'That's strange,' he said. 'Please can you tell me where Master Tarobei, the rice-dealer, has gone?' he asked one of the party.

  'What's that?' answered the man. 'Master Tarobei? I haven't seen you before. Who are you?'

  'I'm Master Tarobei's neighbour,' answered Yaji. 'There must be some mistake. I wonder what's become of Kitahachi.'

  Yaji wandered about looking at each of them like one bewildered, and the members of the party all looked at him and whispered and nudged each other, and kept their eyes on their baggage because they thought he might be a thief. At last two or three of them went to the leader of the party.

  'Who is this strange man?' they asked.

  'Who can he be?' said another. 'Why's he looking all about him?'

  'If I could only see Master Tarobei, the rice-dealer, it would be all right,' said Yaji.

  'There's no such man in the party,' said the leader. 'You must be here for some bad purpose.'

  'Doesn't this gentleman belong to your party?' asked the priest.

  'No,' said the leader.

  'Dear me!' said the priest. 'What are you doing here? I must ask you to leave at once. You are taking great liberties.'

  'He must be a thief,' said the leader. 'Let's throw him out. There's something strange about him.'

  'What are you talking about?' said Yaji. 'Throw me out, indeed! What insolence!'

  'Aha!' said the priest. 'You seem to be an Edo man from your talk. I think I see what's happened. There was a party from Edo at the place where we stopped and your kago carriers must have got confused with our party.'

  'Oh, that's it, is it?' said Yaji. 'Then where's the place I ought to have gone to?'

  'How am I to know?' said the priest.

  'Whoever heard of a person not knowing where he was going?' said the leader. 'It seems to me that you got mixed up with our party on purpose in order to get yourself treated at our expense.'

  Then all the other members of the party began to get very angry and to threaten him. 'Such insolence!' they cried. 'Let's give him a thrashing.'

  'What are you talking about?' said Yaji. 'Do you think I can't pay my own way? That's easy enough for an Edo man. I'll pay for the lot of you.'

  Here Yaji sat down proudly on the floor.

  'What?' said the priest, astonished. 'You'll pay for all? That's splendid.'

  'Of course I can,' said Yaji. 'I don't care how much it is. Here you are.' He pulled out two hundred coppers wrapped in a piece of paper. This gave the priest another surprise.

  'Ha-ha-ha!' he laughed. 'That's no good. At the least it will cost you fifteen gold pieces.'

  'What?' said Yaji. 'Isn't this enough?'

  'Of course not,' replied the priest.

  'Well, if it won't pay for everything,' said Yaji, 'it will pay at least for the oranges.'

  'Ha-ha-ha!' laughed the leader. 'That's a good one.'

  'He's making a fool of us,' said the priest. 'We've had enough of this. The place you ought to go to must be the Naigu. That's where the priest who was with your party belongs. You must go to the old market in Myokencho and then ask again.'

  'Oh, that's the place, is it?' said Yaji. 'Well, thank you very much. Sorry to have disturbed you.'

  'What a fool the man is!' said the leader and they all began laughing and jeering at him and clapping their hands.

  Yaji felt very angry, but as there was nothing to be done he went off and retraced his steps to the place where he had branched off from the other party. As he walked he wondered what had become of Kita, —whether he had been taken away by the rice-dealer, and whether the Westcountryman had gone to Myokencho alone. Thus thinking he walked along till he came to Hirokōji. There he was accosted by an innkeeper in front of an inn.

  'Are you looking for an inn?' he asked. 'You'd better stop here.'

  'Is it far to Myokencho?' asked Yaji.

  'No, no,' said the innkeeper's wife. 'It's only a little further.'

  Yaji went on trying to remember the name of the inn in Myōkenchō where the Westcountryman said he was going to stop. He thought and thought, but the name of Fujiya had slipped his memory. It seemed to be on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't get it off, though he had a vague idea that it was connected with something hanging down.

  'Is there a hanging inn in Myokenchō?' he inquired of a passer-by.

  'A hanging inn?' said the man. 'I never heard of such a place.'

  'They don't seem to know it here,' thought Yaji as he went on. 'I'll go a bit further and ask again.'

  He went on quickly till he saw a sign marked 'Mankintan, Shichiemon Yamahara, Myokenchō.'

  'It must be somewhere here,' he thought. 'I'll ask again.'

  'Do you know of a place about here somewhere that's hanging down?' he asked a passer-by.

  The man looked at him puzzled. 'Hanging down?' he said. 'What sort of a place can it be hanging down?'

  'It's an inn,' said Yaji.

  'There's no inn like that,' said the man.

  'I've forgotten the name,' said Yaji.

  'I don't k
now any place like that,' said the man. 'Hanging down? Aha, perhaps if you go over to that house at the corner where that man's standing and ask there they'll know. Last year there was a man hanged himself there, so perhaps it's the hanging inn.'

  'No, no,' said Yaji. 'It isn't that sort of hanging.'

  'Well, you might go and ask,' said the man. 'It's an inn.'

  Yaji started off again on his search, getting more and more bewildered and flustered, till at last he spoke to a man standing at the door of an inn.

  'Excuse me,' he said. 'I've just got a question I want to ask you. Was it you who hanged himself last year?'

  The man, who happened to be the landlord, was thunderstruck at such a question. 'Never,' he said. 'I never hanged myself.'

  'Then where can it be?' said Yaji.

  'I don't know any place where a man hanged himself,' said the landlord, 'but there's a place a little further along where a man died from a rice ball which fell from a shelf and stuck in his throat. Perhaps that's the place.'

  'That would be it,' said Yaji. 'I know it was something about something hanging down.'

  He went on till he came to the house and then he asked at the gate. 'Is this the house that fell from a shelf?' he inquired.

  'Never,' said the mistress. 'My house has always been here. It's never been put on a shelf.'

  'Dear me!' said Yaji. 'Isn't there any other.'

  'You've made a mistake,' said the woman. 'Isn't it the house that fell from a hill? That would be Yojiro's hut. It was blown by the wind into the valley the other day. That must be what you want.'

  'No, no, that's not it,' said Yaji. 'I don't know what to do. I'm all at sea. I've been asking all over the place and I'm quite worn out. I'll just take a rest and a smoke.'

  He sat down in front of the inn, and the landlord, who quite sympathised with him in his distress, brought out a tobacco-box from the inn.

  'Please take a whiff,' he said. 'Where do you really want to go to? Haven't you any companions?'

  'Yes, I had two,' said Yaji, 'but I've lost them and that's why I'm in such trouble.'

  'Isn't one of your companions a man from Edo and the other a Kyōto man with a wen beside his eye about this big?'

  'That's them,' said Yaji.

  'Then they're stopping in this house,' said the landlord. 'They've sent out to look for you.'

  'Is that so?' said Yaji. 'Well, I am glad. By the way, what's the name of your inn?'

  'Look for yourself,' said the landlord. 'It's written on that board hanging up there, —Fujiya.'

  'That's it, that's it,' said Yaji. 'I knew it was something hanging down from a ledge. Where are my companions?'

  'They're inside waiting for you,' said the landlord, and as he spoke the Westcountryman, who had heard Yaji's voice, came running out.

  'Here you are at last,' he said. 'I knew you'd be asking for us. We've been asking all over the place for you. Come in, come in.'

  Kita and the Westcountryman had followed the Edo party, but not being able to find Yaji, and being surrounded by strangers, they had felt rather embarrassed. After making inquiries in vain, they had gone on to the Fujiya in Myokencho in the hope that Yaji would ask his way there. Yaji told them of his adventures, at which they laughed heartily.

  Kita had sent for a barber and was having himself shaved when Yaji arrived.

  'It's lucky we've all got together again without any accident,' he said.

  'I'm the only one that's suffered,' said Yaji. 'By the way, barber, I'll have a shave too after you've done.'

  'Then you'd better have a bath while you're waiting,' suggested Kita.

  Yaji accordingly went off to the bath and Kita began talking to the barber. 'Mind you do my hair up tight, barber,' he said. 'Somehow my side hair always gets loose and makes me look so untidy. You know when a woman's hair is dressed to make it look very big they say she's got the Chikuma pot on her head.'

  'Yes,' said the barber, 'but at the same time they look very pretty.'

  'They may look pretty,' said Kita, 'but they shouldn't relieve themselves in public.'

  'Well,' said the barber, 'those Edo girls have such large mouths that when they yawn it takes all your love away.'

  'But then, Edo's famous for its courtesans,' said Kita. 'They're so full of spirit. Here they treat everyone the same and never refuse anyone. That's because they don't have enough faith.'

  'Yes,' said the barber, 'they wouldn't even refuse a gentleman like you, so that's all right.'

  'I'm telling the truth,' said Kita, 'so it's no use trying to make light of what I'm telling you.'

  'If you talk so foolishly,' said the barber, 'I shall cut you.'

  'It's painful enough as it is,' said Kita.

  'It's bound to be painful,' said the barber. 'I haven't sharpened the razor for a long time.'

  'What an extraordinary thing,' said Kita. 'Why don't you sharpen it?'

  'If I sharpened it too much,' said the barber, 'it would wear it out. Let me see. It must be three years since people began to complain how sore their heads felt when I shaved them with this razor.'

  'I can quite understand that,' said Kita. 'It's so painful that it feels as if you were pulling each hair out by the roots.'

  'Well, it doesn't matter how much it hurts as long as your life's not in danger,' said the barber.

  'Of course, of course,' said Kita. 'But don't shave my pate too much.'

  'You don't seem fond of being shaved,' said the barber.

  'How do you expect me to like being shaved with that razor?' said Kita. 'I expect you've taken all the skin off my head. Don't shave it any more. Just do my queue up nice and tight.'

  'All right, all right,' said the barber. 'What a lot of scurf you've got. There's a way of getting rid of that.'

  'How do you get rid of it?' asked Kita.

  'By shaving your head and becoming a priest,' said the barber.

  'Eh?' said Kita. 'What stupid things you say!'

  'Does your queue feel all right now?' asked the barber.

  'No, no, do it tighter,' said Kita. 'Look how clumsily you've done it on this side. Don't you know how to tie up a queue tightly? Such clumsiness!'

  'How will this do then?' asked the barber, and he twisted up Kita's queue so tightly that he drew the skin on his head into wrinkles and made him turn up his eyes. Kita felt as if his hair was being pulled out of his head, but he wouldn't give in and tried to keep a straight face.

  'That's all right,' he said. 'It feels very comfortable.'

  'I think it will be all right,' said the barber.

  'You've done it so tight that he looks as if he couldn't bend his neck,' said Yaji, who had come back from the bath.

  'Shall I do your hair too?' asked the barber.

  'No, I feel chilly after my bath,' said Yaji. 'I must have caught cold. I'll put it off till to-morrow.'

  The barber took his leave and the maid brought in supper and served it to each person, upon which the countryman, who had been lying down, woke up.

  'Let's have supper,' he said.

  'I'm sorry we have no fish to-day,' said the maid.

  'It's quite a feast,' said Yaji. 'Come along, Kita.'

  'Where are my chopsticks?' asked Kita.

  'They're lying on the tray before you,' said Yaji. 'What a chap you are!'

  'Please give 'em to me,' said Kita. 'I can't bend my head to look down.' 'What's the matter?' asked Yaji. 'Halloa, your face is funny. Your eyes are pulled up so that you look just like a fox.'

  'It's that barber, ' groaned Kita. 'He did my queue up so tight. It's so painful that when I bend my neck it feels as if all my hair was being pulled out by the roots.'

  'You're spilling all your soup,' said the Kyōto man. 'Look, you've put your soup on top of your rice. There, you've spilled it. Haven't you any manners?'

  'Wipe it up, Yaji, will you?' said Kita.

  'What a bother you are,' said Yaji. 'What did you want to have your queue tied up so tightly for? You should have had it done
loose. I expect you annoyed the barber.'

  'That's it,' said the countryman. 'That's why he did it up so tight.'

  'I can't even talk,' groaned Kita. 'Ain't there anything to be done, Yaji?'

  'I'll make it looser for you,' said Yaji, and he gave Kita's queue a good hard pull.

  'Ow! Ow!' yelled Kita. 'What are you doing?'

  'That feels better, doesn't it?' said Yaji.

  'Ah, I can bend my neck a little,' said Kita. 'What an unfortunate chap I am.'

  Supper being over, the dishes were removed and they began talking about how they should amuse themselves.

  'Let's go to Furuichi to-night,' suggested the Kyōto man.

  'Well, it seems rather bad to go there before we've been round the temples,' said Yaji, 'but we might as well enjoy ourselves as not.'

  'Come on,' said the Kyōto man. 'I've spent thousands there year after year so they'll be quite willing to let me be responsible. Come on, let's go at once.'

  'I wish I'd had my hair dressed too,' said Yaji.

  'Landlord, landlord,' called the Kyōto man. 'Just come here a minute.'

  'Ay, ay,' answered the landlord. 'Did you call me?'

  'The gentlemen from Edo wish to go mountain climbing.'

  In the vulgar language of the place, going to see the courtesans is called climbing the mountain.

  'Very well,' said the landlord. 'I'll go with them.'

  'Let's go to the Gyūsharō or the Chizukatei,' said the Kyōto man.

  'To the Drum Chamber, or whatever they call it,' said Kita.

  'It's not the Drum Chamber,' said the landlord. 'It's the

  Tambourine Chamber. That's at the Chizukaya.'

  'Well, let's go to the Chizukaya then,' said the Kyōto man.

  It was already dusk before they were ready, and this being the proper time the three sallied out with the landlord for their guide.

  Furuichi is just along Myokencho. There the houses are set so closely that their eaves meet and from every house come the lively notes of the samisen playing the Isé song. Soon they reached the Chizukaya, where all the girls came running out to meet them.

  'Welcome, welcome,' they cried. 'Please come upstairs.'

  'Well, I may as well go upstairs too, I suppose,' said the landlord of the Fujiya. 'I'll show you the way.'