“You surprise me,” said Gonzaemon, “but at least you can oblige me by remaining in bed until the usual hour for getting up in the morning.”
“My good master,” replied Kyūsuké again, “I am very sorry to displease you so often, but mine is a hopeless case, for to be frank with you I cannot for the life of me stay abed after seven in the morning.”
Now, you must know, that according to our old way of counting time, nine at night was midnight, and seven in the morning answered to 4 o’clock. Kyūsuké, therefore, never slept more than four hours every night, and his master on learning this was surprised beyond measure.
“What a wonder you are!” he exclaimed. “It is seldom one finds gentlemen in service such passionate lovers of work! How gratified I am to find such a notable exception in you. I trust you will not take my suggestion amiss; it was necessary in order that your fellow-servants should not suffer in consequence of your zeal for work.”
“I humbly beg your forgiveness for venturing to disobey your kind orders,” said the young man respectfully.
“Don’t beg my forgiveness,” said his master, “for by so doing you put me in an awkward position.”
After considering for a few moments while the servant waited silently for further orders, Gonzaemon resumed:—
“Well, Kyūsuké, I have another suggestion to offer you. You know that you are your own master while your fellow-servants are asleep. I do not wish you to work for me in those hours, so if you do not wish to rest, employ that time in making sandals for your own profit. I will see that you are provided with plenty of straw.”
“My good master, you are very kind, but I fear it is not right that a servant should use any of his time in work for his own profit.”
Thus Kyūsuké once more baffled the kind intentions of his master. Gonzaemon was struck with his faithfulness.