(Beg pardon, it was a paltry kitchen!)
Everything was seen on the table.
Japanese dinner has no strict order of courses. You are a frolicsome butterfly among the dishes set like flowers before you. You may flit straight to any one which catches your whim.
“Take your honourable chop-sticks!” I said.
Poor Miss Ada!
“How shall I manage with one stick?” she raised her eyelids in questioning meekness.
I bade her to split the stick in two. It was a brand new wooden one. I showed her how to finger it.
She nibbled a bit from each dish. Every time she tasted she looked upon me with a suspicious smile.
And how she slipped her sticks at the critical moment!
The sight amused me hugely.