House-owners give the firemen a great many presents to keep them faithful to their duty.
As the two little girls watched the men running to the fire with a little box of a hand-engine, and with the beautiful standard in the lead, they thought it a fine sight.
"Tara says he is going to be a fireman when he grows up," said Umé. "He says it is because a fireman gets so many presents."
Tei shook her head. "It is a sad thing when a fire burns a thousand houses as it did in our city last year," she said. "I do not like to think of it."
"We need have no fear," said Umé lightly. "Our fathers have extra houses packed away in their godowns."
"That is true," said Tei, "but many others are not so wisely fortunate."
Just then they reached the doll-shop and the fires were forgotten.
"Oh, the lovely dolls!" cried Umé clapping her hands.
There were a hundred bright kimono sleeves pushing and reaching toward the shelves of dolls in the shop. There were fifty little Japanese girls chattering together about the smiling face of one and the beautiful silk kimono of another.
The click of wooden clogs, the clank of Japanese money, and the merry talk of the children, all trying to be heard at the same time, made it a jolly affair.