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SYDNEY GREENBIE
41

cent.; then fifty-five per cent. (the one I had indicated), and lastly, seventy-five per cent." That is the quaint way they have of passing judgement on women. Later on, another girl came in. Indeed, she was the best, and we assessed her at eighty per cent. She was not a beauty, being a little too stout, but she had charm and character and "go." She did everything, some things a little vulgarly, some charmingly, and some revealing training and education. She was the favorite. She liked foreigners, knew a few words of English, and kept the lot of us in a merry mood. What the main topic of conversation was, however, I never knew. Japanese are most exasperating in this, for they will carry on miles of conversation even about yourself, without as much as attempting to bring you into the affair. You simply have to extract an interpretation, so shy and evasive are they.

Thus another four hours of life passed on. It was not a bore, yet certainly not interesting. It cost us ten yen, five dollars, each, dozens of bottles of aerated water and beer, food and fruit, jokes and laughter. One girl played the violin—an altogether new thing to them—but one other did not so much as make a remark all evening. Yet this is what is in so great demand in Japan, so much so that one must employ these girls days ahead of time if one has any choice at all. And thus is man's sanity secured.

I had expressed an interest in the historical phase of this life and reminded my friend that he could show me what life in old Japan had been like in a vivid way. So a few weeks later he called upon me again and asked if I would come out with him for the evening. This time it was distant from the usual geisha quarters, off from the old road which before the coming of the foreigners had been the main street of Hyogo—Kobe's parent city. Even after the coming of the white man, this road had played its dramatic part, for, to avoid passing the hated foreign settlement, the samurai and daimyo had taken to traveling to Kyoto by turning northward and cutting through the hills over what is now known as Arima-michi (Arima Highway). To this hidden inn along Arima-michi we went that evening.

Besides dancing and singing and now more friendly intimacy, the proprietor brought her store of ancient possessions which she keeps for just such occasions. Japanese who wish to play samurai, or ancient noblemen, can here satisfy their desires. We regaled ourselves in these old-time costumes and acted scenes and samurai practices so