He snuffed the air. It was no mistake. "Here's luck, surely," said he, throwing down his bundle.
Hurrying forward he saw a foaming waterfall tumbling over the rocks in a thick stream.
As he drew near, some of the spray fell on his tongue. He tasted it, smacked his lips and throwing down his cord and basket to the ground, filled his gourd and hastened home to his father.
Every day, till the end of his father's life, did he come to this wonderful cascade of wine, and thus the old man was nourished for many a long year.
The news of this fountain of youth spread abroad until it reached the court. The mikado, hearing of it, made a journey to Mino to see the wonderful waterfall. In honor of this event, and as a reward of filial piety, the name of the year-period was changed to Yoro, (Nourishing Old Age).
To this day, many people young and old go out to enjoy picnic parties at the foot of the waterfall; which now, however, runs honest water only, which makes the cheeks red; and not the wonderful wine that once tipped the old daddy's nose with perpetual vermilion.