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Fuji came up with the milk, and looked very grave when he saw the muddy footprints on the clean sheet. "Now, Fuji," said Gissing, "do you suppose they can lap, or will we have to pour it down?" In spite of his superior manner, Fuji was a good fellow in an emergency. It was he who suggested the fountain-pen filler.
In that quaint fairyland diminutive rivers flow gracefully under tiny trees, past mole-hill mountains, till they fall at last into lilliputian lakes, almost smothered for the flowers that grow upon their banks; while in the extreme distance of a couple of rods the cone of a Fuji ten feet high looks approvingly down upon a scene which would be nationally incomplete without it.
"It is Fuji, the most beautiful mountain in the world." By and by Take said, "I don't feel a bit like a giant any more." And Taro said, "Neither do I." For a long time they stood looking at it. Then they turned and crept quietly down the dark stairs, holding tight to their Father's hands. They went back to Mother and Grandmother and Bot'Chan under the cherry trees.
It is very rare to have everything explained beforehand. When Adam and Eve were put into the Garden of Eden, there was nothing said about the serpent. However, Gissing did not believe in entreating a servant to stay. He offered to give Fuji a raise, but the butler was still determined to leave. "My senses are very delicate," he said.
Through the observation slits in the walls of the Chih' Yuen's conning-tower Frobisher saw, as the Japanese fleet completed its evolution, several dazzling flashes of flame dart out from the turrets of the Yoshino and the Fuji, and simultaneously it appeared as though the entire Japanese fleet had fired at the same moment, so fierce and so continuous were the flashes of the discharges.
Long afterward, when Buddhist believers came to Japan, one of them, climbing Fuji, noticed that around its sunken crater were eight peaks, like the petals of their sacred lotus flower. Thus, it seemed to them, Great Buddha had honored Japan, by bestowing the sacred symbol of Nirvana, or Heaven, on the proudest and highest part of Japan.
Why do the pilgrims from all over the empire exclaim joyfully, while climbing Fuji's cinder-beds and lava-blocks, "I am a man of Omi"? Why, when quenching their thirst with the melted snow-water of Fuji crater, do they cry out "I am drinking from Lake Biwa"? Why do the children clap their hands, as they row or sail over Biwa's blue surface, and say: "I am on top of Fuji Yama"?
In the tunnel the icicles were hanging several feet long and as big as masts, and the air was biting. But one emerged suddenly upon a prospect the wonder of which probably cannot be excelled a vast plain far below, made up of verdure and villages and lakes, with distant surrounding heights, and immediately in front, filling half the sky, Fuji himself.
Then Fuji suddenly belched its volcano of color and lava; of rose and gold, amber, salmon, primrose, sapphire, marigold; and in a stream these poured over Fuji's sides and down along the ridge-line of the lesser hills until they too were covered with a layer of molten glory a mile thick. The clouds above Fuji forgot to be black.
The first glimpse was one of untold spun-gold glory. There it stood. "There it is! There it is! Look!" a fellow traveler cried. "There is what?" I called. We were on top of a great American College building in Tokyo. "It's Fuji!" I had given up hope. We had been there two weeks and Fujiyama was not to be seen.
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