For a long time they stood looking at it. Then they turned and crept quietly down the dark stairs, holding tight to their Father's hands.
They went back to Mother and Grandmother and Bot'Chan under the cherry trees.
"We must take the Baby home," said the Mother as soon as she saw them. "It's growing late."
"Oh, mayn't we stay just a little longer?" Take begged.
"Please," said Taro.
"If we go now, we can go home by boat," said the Father.
"I didn't believe a single other nice thing could happen this day," sighed Take. "But going home by boat will be nicer than staying. Won't it, Taro?"
But Taro was already on his way to the landing.
There was a pleasure-boat tied to the wharf. The whole family got on board; the boatman pushed off and away they went over the blue waters and into the river, and down the river a long way, through the city and beyond. They passed rice-fields, where men and women in great round hats worked away, standing ankle deep in water. There were fields where tea-plants were growing. There were little brown thatched roofs peeping out from under green trees. There were glimpses of little streets in tiny villages, and of people riding in a queer sort of basket hung from a pole and carried on the shoulders of two men.
At last they came to a landing-pace near their home. They were glad to see the familiar roofs again.