Each insect was in a little cage which was made of horsehair or fine strands of bamboo. The cages were of different shapes and sizes for the different kinds of insects. Some were tall and shaped like a bee-hive, some were oblong and others were square. Umé's kirigirisu was in a cage four inches long.
Tei also had a few sen. She looked at many insects carefully and finally chose a beautiful bright green grasshopper that made a sound like the weaving of a loom:--"Ji-i-i-i, chon-chon! Ji-i-i-i, chon-chon!"
Then home trotted the two little girls with their cunning cages.
It was a very warm day and the good mother was waiting for them with cups of cold tea. She looked at the insects and smiled at the baby who kotowed an honorable welcome to them.
"When I was a child," she said, "my unselfish mother told me a wise story about those same two insects."
Immediately the children seated themselves.
"We will be most respectfully quiet and listen, if you will tell it to us," said Umé.
"Long, long ago," began the mother, "when Japan was young, there were two faithful and obedient daughters who supported their blind old father by the labor of their hands. The elder girl spent all her days in weaving while the other was just as industriously sewing. In that way they took faithful care of their blind father for many years.
"Finally the old man died, and so deeply did the two daughters mourn for him that soon they died also.
"One summer evening a strange sound was heard on their graves. It was a new sound that no one had ever heard there before, and it was made by two little insects which were swinging and singing on a blade of grass above the place where the two daughters lay.