“Which do you like best, here or the capital?”
“It is all the same to me.”
“You feel more at home in a quiet place like this, don’t you?”
“At home, or not at home, the life in this world depends all upon how you train your mind. It would be of no use to move into a land of mosquitoes, when you got sick of the country of fleas.”
“It would be all well if you emigrated into a country, where there were neither mosquitoes nor fleas?”
“If there be any such country, just show it to me, please Sensei. Show it to me now,” says the woman earnestly.
“If you wish, I certainly will.” I took out my sketch book and let my brush spin out a woman on horse back, looking up to a mountain cherry blossom—just an imaginary impression. A work of the instant, it hardly made a picture, but to give an idea. I speedily finished it and said:
“Now get in here, there is neither flea nor mosquito in this land,” putting it under her nose. Will she be seized by a surprise or by bashfulness? To judge by her looks, I felt sure that embarrassment would be the last thing she would allow to overtake her. I watched her for the moment.
“What a cramped up world! It is all width. You are fond of a place like this? You must be a regular crab.” Thus she got herself out, and I laughed out aloud:
“Ha, ha, ha, ha.”