As at last the gate was reached, a young lad came out in the dusk, and of him I inquired if it was really the house. He too had a soft voice and a courteous manner, and helped me to open the gate. After I had conversed with Mrs. N—— a little while, I learned that he was Lafcadio Hearn’s eldest son, the one he loved so, and wrote of so sweetly in many of his letters.
Mrs. N—— was dressed in grey: perhaps it was the shadow of the lamplight, but I received the impression that her life was in grey shadows. Her little son, however, was a bright contrast—round eyes, rosy cheeks, with a woollen cap with a long point and a dangling tassel—he was like a pixy. He was only four years old, but acted as interpreter between his mother and the maid. There was also the merriest kitten I ever saw—round, soft, and tailless, with a scatter of claws and a jump like a grasshopper, as it dashed after the shadow of the tail it never had. The grey woman spoke with such a sad lifeless voice—slowly, as though it were rather troublesome to have to speak at all, but not in unfriendly fashion. I heard much of the Hearns, as Mr. N—— is a very intimate friend of the family, and Mrs. N—— has come close to the eldest lad, and teaches him.
I heard from her what I have heard from many people, that Mrs. Hearn can neither speak nor write a single word of English. That baby English at the end of the Life and Letters is either a translation or a concoction.
There are many letters of Hearn’s to his wife in childish Japanese, that, since the appearance of Gould’s atrocious book, Mrs. Hearn has placed in Mr. N——’s hands for publication, though before that she had not wished to make them public.
November 27.—After the morning’s work, I went to the Goten for the Faculty lunch. Professor T—— took me from there to see the Anthropological Department of the University. They have a very considerable space, and lots of specimens of all kinds, though I did not see many European ones. The stone implements naturally interested me most. There are extraordinary numbers of arrowheads, and a good many celts of rough polished stone. It appears that there are no palaeoliths in the country; it is certainly true that none have been found, but that does not satisfy me that palaeolithic man did not live in Japan. Shell mounds of late Neolithic age seem to be the chief fundorts for the tools. In many cases earthenware, beads, and such like are found with them. The arrowheads are made of flint, rather more opaque and with a duller patina than English flint. But many of them are of obsidian, some of which are beautifully clear. There are also agate and chert ones, and one perfect gem of pure quartz. Their shapes are much like those common in Scotland, but a few were a little unusual with particularly fine edges, and some were very minute. The arrowheads rather preponderated, but I was more struck by the scrapers, which were particularly beautiful, and of a type I have not discovered anywhere before. There were many variations among the scrapers, the top edge being beautifully chipped; it was evident that a thong had kept them in a handle. Of the type composed of a straight single flake, so common at home, I saw very few.
Professor T—— has made the best arrangement for keeping the specimens I have ever seen—small tin boxes, with glass tops, and fastened by a tight ring clasp. The specimens, placed on cotton-wool in it, are immovable when the lid is shut, and the boxes can be placed in any position, but directly they are open they are free, and can be handled, unlike those sewn on to the irritating museum cards.
December 5.—At the Institute all day. I don’t at all approve of this Saturday work, but am too busy to feel justified in taking a single day off, as I can only work in the Institute; even writing for this work I can’t do at home, because I need the specimens and books at my hand.
December 6.—Lovely brilliant sunshine, but a heavy wind, so I am spending the day lying on a futon on the engawa (open verandah all along the house), in perfect shelter, for the ∠ shape of the house keeps off all the wind and cuts off none of the sun, and I am lying in a pink cotton kimono with my hair down, and can fancy myself on an August beach! but I know directly the sun goes in, Jack Frost will pop out, and in my thickest padded clothes I shall shiver. The sunshine is everything here—no wonder they put the sun and nothing else on their flag. The sky is more blue than our August heaven—and although dead leaves are whirling, the cryptomerias are green and the maples blood-red, while my rose bush has flawless leaves, with crimson petioles. Would it were always November in Japan!
December 11.—I have been too busy to write all these days, and as it happened, there has really been nothing worth recording except my discontent with the artisans and trades-people, which had perhaps better be left untold. To-day I lunched at the Goten and met Baron M——, last year the Minister of Education. He was very friendly and “made conversation” in quite a European and un-Japanese style, though I thought him stiff last year.
In the evening we had the second dinner of the University of London Union. Viscount I—— was there, the first Japanese to come to London to study, and a very entertaining brusque old man he is! Count H——, recently Ambassador to England, took me in, and there were sixteen of us altogether, seven foreigners and nine Japanese. It was quite a jolly dinner.