“What an enchanting picture! What can compare with a snow landscape?” he exclaimed, as he stood enraptured, gazing with delight from the balcony of the pavilion at the pure loveliness of the scene before him. “It is said that snow foretells a fruitful year. When the harvest is abundant great is the rejoicing of the people, and peace and prosperity reign over the land!”
While his lordship thus soliloquized, Heishiro, the sandal-bearer—Makabé Heishiro as he was called from his birthplace, Makabé in Hitachi, a surname being a luxury unknown to the third estate—waited without. Having adjusted his master’s footgear there was nothing more to do till he should come out again. But presently Heishiro observed that the snowflakes fell and lay somewhat thick on his valuable charge. He hastened to brush them off with his sleeve, but more flakes fell, and again the geta (clogs) were covered with icy particles.
“This will never do,” he said to himself. “His lordship disdains to wear tabi (socks) even in the coldest weather, deeming it a mark of effeminacy; should he place his bare feet on these damp geta he will assuredly catch cold. I must keep them warm and dry for him.”
So the good fellow in the kindness of his simple heart took up the heavy wooden clogs, and putting them in the bosom of his garment next to his skin, continued his patient waiting.
“His lordship comes!”
Heishiro had just time to put the geta straight on the large stone step at the entrance before the double doors slid open right and left and Masamuné appeared, young, imperious.
He slipped his feet on to the geta. How was this? They felt warm to his touch! How could that be in such freezing weather? There could be but one explanation. That lazy lout of a sandal-bearer had been using them as a seat—sitting on the honourable footgear of his august master! The insufferable insolence, of the fellow!
In a passion at the supposed insult he caught the offender by the nape of his neck, and shook him violently, exclaiming between his set teeth, “You scoundrel! How dared you defile my geta by sitting on them! You have grossly insulted me behind my back! Villain, take that....”
Catching up one of the clogs which he had kicked off, he struck the poor servitor a heavy blow between the eyes, which caused him to reel stunned and bleeding to the ground. Then hurling the companion geta at his prostrate victim, he strode proudly back to the castle, barefooted, for he was in too great a rage to wait until another pair of geta could be brought.