[Illustration:  RICE POLISHING BY FOOT POWER. p. 78]

I saw a village which a few years ago had been “disorderly and poor” and in continual friction with its landlord.  Eventually this man realised his responsibility, and, inspired by Mr. Yamasaki, took the situation in hand.  He talked in a straightforward way with his villagers, reduced a number of rents and spent money freely in ameliorative work.  To-day the village is “remarkable for its good conduct” and the relation between landlord and tenant seems to be everything that can be desired.  The landlord is not only the moving spirit of the co-operative store but has started a school for girls of from fifteen to twenty.  They bring their own food but the schooling is free.

On the gables of one or two houses near the roof I noticed ventilators which were cut in the form of the Chinese ideograph which means water, a kind of charm against fire.  At the door of one rather well-to-do peasant house I saw several paper charms against toothache.  There was also an inscription intimating that the householder was a director of the co-operative society and another announcing that he was an expert in the application of the moxa.[39] Every house I went into had a collection of charms.  One charm, a verse of poetry hung upside-down, as is the custom, was against ants.  Another was understood to ensure the safe return of a straying cat.

In one house in the village my attention was drawn to the fact that the rice pot contained a large percentage of barley.

In two or three places I passed pits for the excavation of lignite, which does not look unlike the wood taken out of bogs.  A pit I stopped at was twenty-two fathoms deep.  There were twenty miners at work and air was being pumped down.

One of the things we in the West might imitate with advantage is the village crematorium.  In Japan it is of the simplest construction.  The rate for villagers was 50 sen, that for outsiders 2 yen.  No doubt there would be an additional yen for the priest.  In a little building which was thirty years old 200 bodies had been cremated.

I looked into a small co-operative rice storehouse.  The building was provided by a number of members “swearing” to save at the rate of a yen and a half a month each until the funds needed had accumulated.  The money was obtained by extra labour in the evening.  Just before I left Japan the Department of Agriculture was arranging to spend 2 million yen within a ten-years’ period to encourage the building of 4,000 rice storehouses.

As I watched the water pouring from one rice field to another and wondered how the rights of landowners were ever reconciled, someone reminded me of the phrase, “water splashing quarrels,” that is disputes in which each side blames the other without getting any farther forward.  To take an unfair advantage in controversy is to draw water into one’s own paddy.  The equivalent for “pouring water on a duck’s back” is “flinging water in a frog’s face.”  A Western European is always astonished in Japan by the lung power of Far Eastern frogs.  The noise is not unlike the bleating of lambs.