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Ando, the traitor, who spoke Hindustani fluently, acted as interpreter whenever there was a hitch in our conversation. With what I knew of the Tibetan language, and with this man's help, everything was explained as clearly as possible to the Tibetans. Notwithstanding this, they continued to lash mercilessly my poor servant.

The sewing was, of course, done at home. Mata would have trusted this sacred rite to no domination but her own. She worked incessantly, planning, cutting, scolding, hurrying off to the shopping district for some forgotten item, conferring with Ando Uchida about the details of Tatsu's outfit, then returning, flushed with success and importance, to new home triumphs. Umè sewed steadily all day.

Well, she was a fine young woman and a vartuous. I remember her knocking down and giving a black eye to my old mother, who was wonderfully deep in Romany, for making a bit of a gillie about you and she. What was the song? Lord, how my memory fails me! Oh, here it is: "'Ando berkho Rye cano Oteh pivo teh khavo Tu lerasque ando berkho piranee Teh corbatcha por pico."

I cannot, I must not hope! Too long have I searched. Not a schoolboy who thought he could draw an outline in the sand with his toe but I have fawned on him. I dare not look. Ando, to-day I am shaken as if with an ague of the soul. I I could not bear another disappointment." He did indeed seem piteously weak and old. He hid his face in long, lean, twitching fingers. Ando was sincerely affected.

"Indeed I have been zealous to preserve it, chiefly for your sake." "Preserve it? What can you mean?" "I have become a government inspector of mines," explained Uchida, in some embarrassment. "I thought you knew. There is a rich coal deposit near that waterfall." "Ando! Ando!" groaned the old man, "you were once an artist! The foreigners are tainting us all."

Fire completed what the sword had begun, destructive flames attacked the frame dwellings of the city, and in a few hours the great capital of the shoguns and their powerful regents was a waste of ashes. Many of the vassals of the Hojo killed themselves rather than surrender, among them a noble named Ando, whose niece was Nitta's wife. She wrote him a letter begging him to surrender.

"None knows this better than I, and yet I am the greatest among them. Show me one of our young artists who can stand like Fudo in the flame of his own creative thought! There is none!" "What you say is unfortunately true of the present Tokyo painters, perhaps equally of Kioto and other large cities, but " Here Ando paused as if to arouse expectancy. Kano did not look up.

In every rock and tree she paints I can see the hint of that coming lover; in her flowers, exquisitely drawn, nestle the faces of her children. She knows it not, but I know, I know! She thinks she cares only for her father and her art. When I die she will marry, and then how many pictures will she paint? Bah!" "Poor child!" murmured Ando, under his breath.

Love of beauty dies in the womb. Shall we strive to become as dead things?" "The love of beauty will never perish in this land," said Ando more earnestly than he had yet spoken. "A Japanese loves Art as he loves life. Our rich merchants become the best patrons of the artists." "Patrons of the artists," echoed Kano, wearily. "You voice your own degradation, friend Ando.

Ando put his hand out quickly behind him, seized the long roll tied in yellow cloth, and began to unfasten it. Kano was panting with the vehemence of his own speech. He poured another little cup of tea and drained it. He began now to watch Ando, and found himself annoyed by the deliberation of his friend's motions. "Strange, strange " Ando was murmuring.