But Umé was again thinking of her mother. "Tell the jinrikisha-man to go faster," she urged.
The man was trotting along, looking at every pine-tree arch. The treeless streets, as far as one could see, were a bower of pine and bamboo. Little children ran into the road, dressed in new kimonos and sashes. Boys were making images of Daruma Sama in the snow, messengers were bearing gifts from one house to another, and men dressed in uniform were already going to pay their respects to their beloved Emperor.
Some of the streets were almost impassable because of the number of beautifully dressed girls who were playing battledore and shuttlecock. The air was full of the bright fluttering toys as they were struck from one player to the other, and the silver world was a very merry place as Umé rode swiftly toward her home.
"If only the honorable mother is augustly well, and the new baby strong," she said wistfully, "our humble household might be the gayest of them all."
As they drew near to their own gateway, Umé clapped her hands. Tara and his father were in the garden and an enormous kite was just rising into the air. It was decorated with a great red sun and a bright red carp, and had a long tail of red and blue papers flying behind it. Higher and higher it rose, the tail turning and twisting in the wind.
"I know my honorable mother is better!" cried Umé, beside herself with joy.
"The chestnuts did not go into the lucky-bag for nothing," said old Maru contentedly. "I knew they would bring an answer to our prayer."
But Umé did not hear her. She left the old woman picking her way carefully along the snowy stepping-stones while she flew to her father.
"Is my admirable mother better?" she asked breathlessly.
"Yes," answered her father. "O Doctor San says she will soon be well."