United States or Papua New Guinea ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Always ere O-Toyo and her son could reach their home after such a day, the dusk would fall softly about them; for the way was long, and they had to both go and return by boat through the wilderness of rice-fields round the town, which is a slow manner of journeying.
Returning to the underworld, they must take a place lower than that which they held before. To-day these rites are not allowed by law. So it came to pass that O-Toyo found herself one night in a lonely little temple at the verge of the city, kneeling before the ihai of her boy, and hearing the rite of incantation.
Next day the mother asked O-Toyo: "Would you not like to become a holy nun, and to live in a very, very small temple, with a very small altar, and little images of the Buddhas? We should be always near you. If you wish this, we shall get a priest to teach you the sutras." O-Toyo wished it, and asked that an extremely small nun's dress be got for her. But the mother said:
O-Toyo was a darling, but she lacked several things conversation for one. You cannot live on giggles. She shall remain unmarried at Nagasaki, while I roast a battered heart before the shrine of a big Kentucky blonde, who had for a nurse when she was little a negro "mammy."
But if there be none, he is dead, because that is a sign that his soul has returned by itself to seek nourishment. O-Toyo found the lacquer thickly beaded with vapor day by day. The child was her constant delight. He was three years old, and fond of asking questions to which none but the gods know the real answers. When he wanted to play, she laid aside her work to play with him.
Sometimes stars and fireflies lighted them; sometimes also the moon, and O-Toyo would softly sing to her boy the Izumo child-song to the moon: Nono-San, Little Lady Moon, How old are you? "Thirteen days, Thirteen and nine." That is still young, And the reason must be For that bright red obi, So nicely tied , And that nice white girdle About your hips. Will you give it to the horse? "Oh, no, no!"
Will you give it to the cow? "Oh, no, no! And up to the blue night would rise from all those wet leagues of labored field that great soft bubbling chorus which seems the very voice of the soil itself, the chant of the frogs. And O-Toyo would interpret its syllables to the child: Me kayui! me kayui! "Mine eyes tickle; I want to sleep." All those were happy hours.
Word Of The Day