sleeves and shoulders like little avalanches from the hillsides. I will go to him and lead him back.'

"So saying, he hurried after the traveler and soon overtook his flagging steps.

"I beg you to return with me,' he said, 'and accept what poor shelter we can offer. Our house is unsightly and wants comforts, but it may be better than to lose your way in the snow.'

""The traveler gave earnest thanks to his host, and they walked slowly back to the house.

"As they walked, they felt as friends; and that was very right," Misao earnestly explained; "for if two find shelter together in the journey of life, even if for a moment, even if they but happen to sit under the same tree to escape passing shower, or drink from the same wayside stream, the sages teach us that some Great Cause has brought them there and they belong to each other, brothers in the spirit, for that moment at the least. We say that there is en between them.

attractive to me,' said the guest, courteously.

"We have nothing to offer you but some boiled awa, and you must be hungry from the long day's tramp.'

"Boiled awa will be most welcome. Please let me have some.'

"The woman placed the awa before him and he ate.

"When I was more fortunate in life,' said the host, 'I read of awa in song and story, but never saw it. And now it is our subsistence.' Then, changing the subject quickly, that he might not sadden his guest's repast by pity: "The cold wind whistles outside. I hope you will be able to sleep without fire; for we have not a faggot.'

"The pilgrim tried to assure him that he would do well, but was taken with a violent tremor from the cold, which was, indeed, almost as piercing within the hut as without.

"Seeing this, the poor man, with a noble hospitality and a smile of determined sac

"I will cut the potted trees for firewood.'

""The potted trees?'

"Yes, three,-cherry, pine, and plum, -all that I have left from a once cherished and valuable collection. They are beautiful. But they will also give warmth.'

""No! You must not. Such a thing is unthinkable. I thank you for the willingness; but you must keep them until better days shall come.' The guest, though nearly freezing, tried to save the trees.

"No. I myself am a fallen tree buried by the snow,' said the host, sorrowfully, 'and for me the blossoming spring will not be here again. With the flakes of snow upon them, the little trees remind me of the faggots that Buddha gathered for the hermit he served upon Snow Mountain. He performed hard service for discipline. Why should I grudge a small sacrifice for hospitality?'

"When the poor man reached his beloved little trees, the tears blinded him. But he tossed them from his eyes.

"He considered the potted trees for a moment, lost in admiration of their beauty and grace.

"First I will cut the plum,' he said to himself; 'for the plum blooms first in the spring. How many hearts leap joyfully every year to see the first plum-blossoms above the bamboo fence! And this, my little plum-tree,-how often I have sighed at seeing its perfect petals fall when their time was over! Who could have expected its fate at my hands within the flame?'

"He raised the ax and cut down the plum-tree.

"Lovely cherry,' he said, looking upon it pitifully, 'how often, when your bloom. was late, I nursed and tended you, a living thing that I loved, into health and lustiness. Now you are thriving, but I am in so lamentable a state that I must feed you to the fire.'

"And the cherry fell beside the plum. "He remembered, as he turned to the pine-tree, the care with which he had shaped and pruned and trained its beautiful branches and guided the very needles that they might hang with fullest grace.

"But the blue of the pine resembles the blue of the smoke,' he said, trying to make peace with himself. 'And its wood will make fragrant the gift of heat. So there is fitness in my giving it to the hearthfire.'

"He swung the ax, and the pine fell to the ground.

"He brought the three fallen trees to the hearth, and soon kindled a cheery blaze and bade the guest come near.

""The warmth of your sacrifice has made me forget all discomfort,' said the shugyo-ja.

"And because you are here, we too have warmed ourselves, and are better for it,' the poor man answered.

"We sit about the same hearth-fire and have eaten the same fare-tell me your name, my host.'

"I am a nameless fellow,' he answered humbly, 'for my name means nothing to any one.'

66

"I am sure that your manner bespeaks no common birth. Tell me your name, I pray. You can have no reason to withhold it. For I ask for no purpose that is ill or idle,' the guest insisted.

"Well, I shall not conceal it from you. This is all that is left of Tsuneyo, who once ruled twenty villages of Sano.'

"How then have you come to this poverty?'

"By the envy and injustice of others.' "Why do you not go to Kamakura, the capital city, and appeal to the shogun for justice?' demanded the guest.

"My master, the shogun, has been told ill of me, whom he does not know. But he is still my master. And though I am reduced to bitter want, I hold myself still his knight, his warrior. I have still a suit of armor, a spear, and a horse yonder. Should danger threaten Kamakura, that armor, though battered, shall be thrown upon me; I shall spring to that spear,

though rusty, and mount that horse, though he is old and thin. The distressed knight Tsuneyo shall be among the first to arrive at the threatened capital. If war breaks out, I shall prove my devotion, the first of all the shogun's knights to dash into the battle unto death. Death? That would be glorious; but to die like this, of starvation-that is indeed a bitter fate!'

"Do not lament, my host and friend,' the stranger tried to console him. 'Have faith. The time of bitterness is near an end. I feel that the good days will come to you while I am close at hand.'

"Then the pilgrim priest spoke words of wisdom and hope to him all through the night, so that the poor man met the next day with renewed courage.

"At daybreak the poor man and his wife bade the pilgrim farewell with regret. There were tears in their eyes as he left them, and they urged him to stay another day and rest.

"I may not, though I wish to,' the shugyo-ja replied. 'Farewell. Fare you well, Tsuneyo!'

'Since it must be, fare you well!'

"And the stranger went away through the snow, now glimmering wanly in the first light of a pale winter sun.

"Tsuneyo and his wife managed to exist through the winter. When the spring came, the poor knight sadly missed his little trees. Sometimes he would forget that he had burned them, and, on awaking in the morning, would think happily, "Today the plum should be in flower'; or, 'Now it is time for the cherry to deck herself'; or, "This warmer sunshine will enrich the fragrance of the pine.' Then his heart would contract with sudden pain. But he never regretted the sacrifice to the shugyo-ja, who had left him thoughts even more inspiring than the beauty of the trees.

"Suddenly, one day, a messenger appeared, riding through the plain, and drew rein at the little hut of Tsuneyo.

"He announced that all the knights who were vassals of the shogun were summoned by their master to gather at Kamakura. The great knights of vast domain and influence, and the humblest and most un

`known-all were called by their loyalty and duty to appear on a certain day at Kamakura, beside their shogun and at his service.

"The poor knight did not know whether he was summoned to war or to a council; but he left without delay, knowing that the journey would take him longer upon his pitiful, bony horse than it would the more fortunate warriors upon their dashing steeds. And he wished to be there among the first, to prove his devotion and fealty.

"It may be I am called to battle and to die,' he told his wife, as he bade her a sad farewell. 'But that is not the real test of my bravery. For it takes more courage to appear among the splendid knights of the shogunate,-with their retainers and rich apparel,-mounted upon this sorry nag, dressed in this dilapidated armor, and bearing this rusty spear, than it would take to plunge into a hopeless battle.'

"Though Tsuneyo's loyalty and courage were strong and quick, his horse was weak and slow. There was no value in whip or spur, because the underfed and aged creature could not move quickly if it would. Impatient at the slow pace, Tsuneyo often dismounted and coaxed and pulled the tired horse along the road.

"The people whom he met or passed looked wonderingly at the strange, shabby knight who proceeded to the brilliant meeting at Kamakura.

"For it was a glorious sight, this gathering of the warriors. There were knights of eight provinces of the east, brilliantly equipped, in armor of glittering silver and strong cords, with swords and spears decorated with silver and gold, mounted on horses swift and bright as comets, followed by trains of relay horses as noble, and suites of gorgeously clad attendants and grooms.

"It was no wonder that eyes filled with such dazzling spectacles looked in amazement at poor Tsuneyo.

"And the knights themselves glanced with condescension or amusement upon so ignoble looking a colleague."

"Mean old things!" said Elizabeth.

warriors a knight in battered armor, with time-worn horse and rusty spear-the poorest of my knights. Bring him to me.' "It was not difficult to find Tsuneyo by that description, for he stood out among the brilliant warriors like a toad among the water-lilies.

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'You are to appear before the shogun. He orders it,' the messenger said to him. "What, I?' Tsuneyo was surprised. 'But surely you are mistaken? It is some one else whom you seek.'

"No, no, I am not mistaken. I was ordered to find the most miserable-looking horseman.'

""Then indeed you have found the man you sought.'

"Make haste, then, and present yourself to the shogun.'

""The order shall be obeyed,' said Tsuneyo, but with a somewhat troubled countenance. For he feared that his old enemies had again been working against him, and that some evil-minded person had falsely charged him with treason. But he

"But with no sign of timidity, he passed them in stately dignity, as became a knight, his rusty spear held at his side.

"He knelt before the shogun. "Are you not Tsuneyo of Sano?' the shogun asked the kneeling warrior. ""I am he, my Lord.'

"Have you forgotten me, Tsuneyo?' "I remember always my loyal devotion to your lordship.'

"Yes. But look into my face, Tsuneyo. Do you not recognize me now?' "Tsuneyo looked at his master, his eyes wide with wonder and incredulity.

"It seems-I dare not-'

"Yes. I am the shugyo-ja whom you sheltered from the snowy storm that overtook me in the midst of my pilgrimage. You have kept your word, Tsuneyo, and come among the first of the knights, on your shabby horse, with your rusty spear, to obey your shogun's call. You have done exactly as you said you would do; and that is ever praiseworthy. I have assembled my knights here to-day to see their

shogun render justice. And my first act shall be to restore to you, O Tsuneyo, my host and my friend, the twenty villages of Sano which are rightfully your own.

"And further, I have remembered with a burning heart, my knight, the noble spirit through which you destroyed your precious potted trees, all that were left to you of departed loveliness-burned them to warm a stranger, the guest of a night.

""The trees you sacrificed for me were plum and cherry and pine. In return for them, O Tsuneyo, I now give to you possession of three rich manors: Umeda (The Plum Field) of Kaga, Sakurai (The Cherry Well) of Echizen, and Matsuida (The Pine-well Field) of Kozuke. Keep them, my host, and hand them down to your posterity forever. Rise and accept the gift.'

"Tsuneyo received the document in both hands, and raised it to his forehead three times in token of gratitude. But he had little need for either sign or word of thanks; he looked into the shogun's eyes, and each understood the heart of the other. For they were friends.

"As Tsuneyo retired from his chieftain's presence, those who had laughed at him when he entered now envied him or rejoiced in his good fortune, according to their natures. But Tsuneyo had no eyes for them or thought for their opinions. His eyes, brimming with happiness, were eager for the sight of his faithful wife's face when he should bring her the news of

their fortune; when he should lead her into the full inheritance of the old beloved possessions in Sano which he had now regained; when he should share with her the beautiful new estates, the gifts of the Plum, the Cherry, and the Pine." Misao paused.

"Oh, it was lovely!" said Elizabeth. "Fine! Thank you," Harry agreed.

"How could they show all that without lots of scenery? And a great big stage?" Elizabeth wondered.

"Just by the acting," said Misao. "The actors make you feel it all. For instance, when Tsuneyo calls the pilgrim across the snow, he is really very near him on the platform; but, by the way he calls, you can hear the distance and even feel the heavy, snowy air."

"I think it is by the imagination, too," said Harry, wisely. "You can always imagine better when you have n't too many things to play with."

"That is so," Elizabeth agreed. "And for that matter, we have imagined it all, Harry, just by hearing Misao tell it."

"You have imagined the story so well that you did not even notice it had stopped snowing," said Misao.

"Has it? Oh, goody! goody!" Elizabeth ran to the window. "Is it too late for Uncle Arthur to come, do you think?"

"No, for there he comes!" said Harry. "Joy! We shall go to the theater twice to-day!" cried Elizabeth; "once in America and once in Japan."

Two little laughs met Polly May,
As she went on an outing;
One set her dimples all at play;
The other left her pouting!

One sent her in a hurry call,

For merry little twinkles; The other made the tear-drops fall, And marred her face with wrinkles.