I Long For The
Lowing Of Cattle And The Bleating Of Sheep.
At six we reached Tochigi, a large town, formerly the castle town
of a daimiyo.
Its special manufacture is rope of many kinds, a
great deal of hemp being grown in the neighbourhood. Many of the
roofs are tiled, and the town has a more solid and handsome
appearance than those that we had previously passed through. But
from Kasukabe to Tochigi was from bad to worse. I nearly abandoned
Japanese travelling altogether, and, if last night had not been a
great improvement, I think I should have gone ignominiously back to
Tokiyo. The yadoya was a very large one, and, as sixty guests had
arrived before me, there was no choice of accommodation, and I had
to be contented with a room enclosed on all sides not by fusuma but
shoji, and with barely room for my bed, bath, and chair, under a
fusty green mosquito net which was a perfect nest of fleas. One
side of the room was against a much-frequented passage, and another
opened on a small yard upon which three opposite rooms also opened,
crowded with some not very sober or decorous travellers. The shoji
were full of holes, and often at each hole I saw a human eye.
Privacy was a luxury not even to be recalled. Besides the constant
application of eyes to the shoji, the servants, who were very noisy
and rough, looked into my room constantly without any pretext; the
host, a bright, pleasant-looking man, did the same; jugglers,
musicians, blind shampooers, and singing girls, all pushed the
screens aside; and I began to think that Mr. Campbell was right,
and that a lady should not travel alone in Japan.
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