"And in three days do you expect to show me a picture worth my looking at?" inquired the Shogun.
"I have travelled all over the country for that work which it has pleased you to commit to my care, and it will be ready on time," replied the artist, humbly.
When the last day had come the artist said his screen was ready, and that it was hanging in a particular room in the Shogun's palace. The high dignitary and his court were present, and examined the picture.
What was painted was simplicity itself. There was a river, and in the stream a boat was moored, with a furled sail. The banks of the river were lined with rushes. There were a few trees, with a bird here and there perched on the boughs. A rabbit was nibbling the grass. In the distance was a high mountain.
"That is supposably water, if I am not mistaken," said the Shogun.
"It's very sluggish," remarked the pipe-bearer.
"Those rushes—ahem!" interposed a courtier—"are they not absurdly stiff?"
"And, dear me," chimed in the secretary, "what birds! Stuffed birds on boughs are too preposterous!"
"The boat—such a boat as that never could float! Is it meant for a boat or a rock?" inquired the master of the robes.
"The fact is," said the Shogun, "it is an idiotic performance. It wants life, go, dash, imagination. It is dulness personified. It is nothing but 'prentice work, and entirely unfitted to grace our elegant abode. Treasurer, pay this man for his trouble. A full year's wages, such as you would give to a weeder of rice."