“Tell me first, whence you come and whither you go,” said the ronin. “For I well see that you are of better times, and that misfortune has brought you here.”
“We are in dire distress,” said the Samurai, “and I have scarce a yen[8] to buy rice for the breakfast of my wife.” Then he told all their story to the ronin, who, being of a good heart, was grieved at their sorrows.
“It is little that I can do for you myself,” he said, “since I am but a wanderer with nothing in my sleeves. But come with me and I will set you in the way of making a good but simple friend. Yonder are the towers and temples of Yedo,” and he pointed to the roofs of a city gleaming gold in the morning sun. “In a certain street lives a tradesman, a poor fellow, yet of a good heart. He bears the name of Chohachi. Seek him and tell him I commend you to his kindness. My road lies elsewhere. Sayonara!”[9]
Bidding good-by to the ronin, the two hurried on and finding Chohachi, he took them in and made them welcome. There they remained several days until O Tsuiu San recovered from her fatigue, and Shindo from his wound. Then Chohachi spoke.
“Honored One,” he said, “very welcome are you and yours to the shelter of our roof tree, but the rice pot holds not enough for four. Is there any way in which you are able to make the pot boil?”
“Good friend,” replied Shindo, “in the house of my fathers the rice pot ever boiled without assistance from me. I know no way.”
Chohachi knit his brows.
“Can the Honorable One teach the young men to fence?”
“Alas,” cried Shindo. “I have little skill as a swordsman. I fear I know not enough to teach fencing.”
“Can the Honorable One teach writing?” demanded Chohachi.