THE GREAT BUDDHA
Tsuki-yo yoshi
Tachitsu itsu netsu
Mitsu-no-hama.
The sea-shore of Mitsu!
Standing, sitting or lying
down,
How lovely is the moonlight
night!
Before the iris had quite faded, and before the azaleas of Hibiya were set ablaze—in Japan they count the months by the blossoming of the flowers—Reggie Forsyth had deserted Tokyo for the joys of sea bathing at Kamakura. He attended at the Embassy for office hours during the morning, but returned to the seaside directly after lunch. This departure disarranged Geoffrey's scheme for his friend's salvation; for he was not prepared to go the length of sacrificing his daily game of tennis.
"What do you want to leave us for?" he remonstrated.
"The bathing," said Reggie, "is heavenly. Besides, next month I have to go into villegiatura with my chief. I must prepare myself for the strain with prayer and fasting. But why don't you come down and join us?"
"Is there any tennis?" asked Geoffrey.
"There is a court, a grass court with holes in it; but I've never seen anybody playing."
"Then what is there to do?"
"Oh, bathing and sleeping and digging in the sand and looking at temples and bathing again; and next week there is a dance."