"Just as we did on your birthday," said Tei.
"Oh, Tei, why did you speak of that? I had put that unworthy memory away in a dark place with all my other bad deeds and was never going to think of it again."
"Just as we put away the dolls in the godown after the Dolls' Festival is over, Umé?"
Umé laughed. "I had not thought of that, but it is so," she said.
All the time the two little girls were talking they were busily preparing breakfasts for their dolls. They had five or six small trays and on each one they placed chopsticks and bowls, and cups about as big as thimbles.
The room in which they were playing was the honorable guest room, the best one in the Utsuki house. On one side of the room was a sight to make any little girl jump for joy. As many as five long shelves had been placed along the wall, arranged one above another like steps, and more than one hundred dolls were grouped on the shelves.
"Here are dolls of all honorable sizes! Ten sen for each, and all honorable prices!" chanted Umé, just as she had heard the toy-peddler cry.
There were indeed dolls of all sizes and kinds. There were big dolls and little dolls, boy dolls and girl dolls. Some were over a hundred years old, and others looked quite new.
On the top shelf stood five emperors with their empresses, and on the lowest shelf, among the toys, Haru was standing beside a new doll which Umé's mother had given her for this Dolls' Festival.
This festival, on the third day of the third month, is the most important one of the whole year to little Japanese girls. For nearly a week Umé and her mother had been busy preparing for this festival. They had set the shelves in place, covered them with gorgeous red cotton crêpe, and had then brought boxes and boxes and bags and bags of dolls and toys from the godown.