manner, even though he tried, he was unable to move at all, and without answering he glanced up sideways at the disciple. After a while he found his tongue, and assuming rather a tone of irritation he said,
“It doesn’t ache at all!”
Really the operation of pressing, especially when his nose became rather ticklish, almost had a soothing effect on the Naigu, and he felt very little signs of ache. After the pressing had been going on for some time, little pimples, like millet seeds began to appear on it. It began to look like the body of some small plucked bird after it had been well roasted. When the disciple noticed its odd appearance, he ceased working his feet, and softly murmured to himself,
“—I am told that these spots should be removed with ‘Kenuki’ (a kind of minute pincers).”
The Naigu, puffing out his cheeks, was not at ease, but he kept silent, for he realised that he had entrusted himself to his disciple. There was not unkind meaning in his look of discontent. It was not that he was ungrateful to his disciple, but it was merely because he didn’t like the way the disciple treated his nose as if it were some dead article.
Then the Naigu, with an expression on his face like someone who had been undergoing an operation, continued to watch his disciple putting the finishing touches to his nose by removing all traces of grease.
When this was quite finished, and when the disciple seemed to have completed his task on the Naigu’s nose, the former gave a deep sigh of satisfaction, and an
