We passed such cunning little farms; two acres is called a good farm, and everything seemed to be growin’ on it in little squares, kep’ neat and clean, little squares of rice and wheat and vegetables.
And Josiah sez, “I wonder what Ury would say if I should set him to transplantin’ a hull field of wheat, spear by spear, as they do here, set ’em out in rows as we do onions. And I guess he’d kick if I should hitch him onto the plow to plow up a medder, or onto the mower or reaper. I guess I’d git enough of it. I guess he’d give me my come-up-ance.”
“Not if he wuz so polite as the Japans,” sez I.
“And what a excitement it would make in Jonesville,” sez Josiah, “if I should hitch Ury and Philury onto the mowin’ machine. I might,” he continered dreamily, “just for a change, drive ’em into Jonesville once on the lumber wagon.”
But he’ll forgit it, I guess, and Japan will forgit it too 199 before long. Their tools are poor and fur behind ourn, and some of their ways are queer; such as trainin’ their fruit trees over arbors as we do vines. Josiah wuz dretful took with this and vowed he’d train our old sick no further over a arbor. Sez he, “If I can train that old tree into a runnin’ vine I shall be the rage in Jonesville.”
But he can’t do it. The branches are as thick as his arm. And I sez, “Children and trees have to be tackled young, Josiah, to bend their wills the way you want ’em to go.” They make a great fuss here over the chrysantheum, and they are beautiful, I must admit. They don’t look much like mine that I have growin’ in a kag in the east winder.
Their common fruits are the persimmons, a sweet fruit about as big as a tomato and lookin’ some like it, with flat black seeds, pears, good figs, oranges, peaches, apples. There is very little poverty, and the poorest people are very clean and neat. Their law courts don’t dally for month after month and years. If a man murders they hang him the same week.
But mebby our ways of lingerin’ along would be better in some cases, if new evidence should be found within a year or so, or children should grow up into witnesses.
We went into a Japanese house one day. It is made on a bamboo frame, the roof and sides wuz thatched with rye straw, the winders wuz slidin’ frames divided into little squares covered with thin white paper. The partitions wuz covered with paper, and movable, so you could if you wanted to make your house into one large room. Josiah told me that he should tear out every partition in our house and fix ’em like this. “How handy it would be, Samantha, if I ever wanted to preach.”
And I told him that I guessed our settin’ room would hold all that would come to hear him preach, and sez I, “How would paper walls do with the thermometer forty below zero?” He looked frustrated, he had never thought of that.