Entertainments of various kinds are given at the story-tellers’ halls. In some the story-tellers proper appear; half a dozen or more come upon the platform in succession, winding up with the chief story-teller of the evening. Those of the better grade tell serious stories, complete at a sitting or continued through the whole run of the company which is fifteen evenings, for they change twice a month. Most of the others, however, tell short stories, humorous and ending often in a word-play; their object is merely to raise a laugh among their audience. There are also story-tellers of a different kind, whose speciality is tales of war and stories of men famed in Japanese history; but as they talk seriously and not in the light vein of their more humorous confrères. they are not so popular as the latter. It is not, however, always the story-teller who occupy the platform. In the course of the evening there may be music and singing by professionals or conjuring tricks. There are also several halls opened exclusively for the singing of gidayu; and though for their proper singing a deep, strong voice is really requisite, female singers are far more numerous than male in Tokyo. In the capital it is not as in Osaka, the home of gidayu-singing, for a young and pretty girl-singer finds greater favour than a male singer of skill and experience. In one evening half a dozen such singers perform, the last being the head of the troupe.
A STORY-TELLER ON THE PLATFORM.
In these halls some of the stories told are far from edifying; but from others the lower classes become acquainted with the lives of the noted men of their country. The proletariat in Japan are probably more intimate with the history of their country than those of other lands. Such history may not always be authentic; but of the famous names in that history, warriors, statesmen, priests, and scholars, they hear from the more serious entertainers at the halls; and the gidayu has also an educative influence, for it inculcates unceasingly the duty of loyalty and filial piety and never tires of dwelling upon the nobleness of self-sacrifice.
CHAPTER XXI.
FEASTS AND FESTIVITIES.
Festivities in the old days—The New Year’s Day—The New Year’s dreams—January—February—The Feast of Dolls—The Equinoctial day—Plum-blossoms—Cherry-blossoms—The flower season—Peach-blossoms—Tree-peonies and wistarias—The Feast of Flags—The Fête of the Yasukuni Shrine—Other fêtes—The Feasts of Tanabata and Lanterns—The river season—Moon-viewing—The Seven Herbs of Autumn—October—The Emperor’s Birthday—Chrysanthemums and maple-leaves—The end of the year.
THERE are feasts and festivities galore in Tokyo. In the old times the feast-days marked in the calendar were far more numerous than they are now. In those days, while the daimyo and his retainers travelled pretty often between Yedo and their native province, the citizens seldom left town; it was a red-letter day with them when they set out on a pilgrimage to the great shrine of Ise or on a trip to Kyoto; and even these persons formed a very small minority. The high roads were infested by robbers; and it was only with their lives in their hands that humble citizens could go on a long journey. Being, then, confined in the town, its inhabitants naturally took what pleasures they could in it and availed themselves of every festivity to give themselves up to enjoyment. The festivals of the tutelary deities were, for instance, celebrated with great pomp; on annual feast-days the time-honoured customs were religiously observed; and the flowers of the season were admired and made occasions for general hilarity, for they served to break the monotony of a purely urban life. But the great facilities of transportation which have been introduced since the Restoration have in these days diminished the interest of the better classes in their city. The well-to-do men, who formerly considered it a luxury to possess a villa on the outskirts of Tokyo, are now not content unless they keep one at Kamakura or beyond for spending the week-end in and another a hundred miles or more from the city for their summer retreat. Kamakura and Enoshima, which are only thirty miles away from Tokyo, were in the old days so distant that they would not think of visiting them unless they intended to spend a few days there; but now school-children are taken to those places on a day’s excursion. The ease with which men can leave the city has made them but lukewarm supporters of the institutions which gave the town its periodical gaiety; for they no longer take an active part in the local festivities or pride themselves upon the fine show their ward might make on such occasions. Even the flowers for which Tokyo is noted they go to look at in the country; and the festivals of the tutelary deities have lost their former splendour, and their most prominent feature, the procession-cars, cannot now be built on the grand scale of the old days, for unless they can be bent low, they cannot parade the streets without snapping the innumerable electric wires which disfigure the thoroughfares of the metropolis. Of the five great feasts which were held every year in former times, two are no longer celebrated in Tokyo, the Feast of Tanabata on the seventh day of the seventh month of the lunar calendar and the Feast of the Chrysanthemum on the ninth day of the ninth month, the remaining three being the New Year’s Day on the first day of the first month, the Feast of Dolls on the third day of the third month, and that of Flags on the fifth day of the fifth month.
Still there remain many occasions on which the Tokyo cit may take his pleasure at home and abroad. The first of these, the New Year’s Day, presents the gayest appearance everywhere and is a day of general rejoicing. On either side of the gate or front door at every house stands a large pine branch supported by an unstripped bamboo-pole or two, and overhead flies the national flag. On the cross-beam of the gate or over the porch hangs a coil of sacred rope, to which are attached a piece of fern, a lobster, a bit of konbu (laminaria), and an orange. Indoors too, a piece of rope with a frond of fern is suspended in different rooms. In the morning when the family gather for breakfast, a set of three wooden goblets are brought on a stand, and the members of the household wish one another a happy New Year and drink spiced mirin with one of the goblets in the order of their position in the family; and instead of the usual boiled rice, they eat cakes of pounded rice roasted and boiled in a soup of greens. This drinking of mirin and eating of rice-cakes is repeated on the two mornings following. On the New Year’s Day people go out to present the New Year’s greetings to their friends and relatives. This custom is now less observed than formerly; for in these days they greet one another by post, and millions of postcards pass through the Tokyo post offices in the beginning of the year. On the New Year’s Day larger shops are closed, as well as offices, public and private. The streets are gay with the New Year’s decorations and with people going to and fro for the New Year’s greetings; while in streets of shops and small houses young men and women and children may be seen playing at battledore and shuttlecock in the open road to the great obstruction of the thoroughfare, the fun of the game being that those who miss a shuttlecock have their faces smeared with Indian ink or white paint.