At One End Are Two
Alcoves With Floors Of Polished Wood, Called Tokonoma.
In one
hangs a kakemono, or wall-picture, a painting of a blossoming
branch of the cherry on white silk - a perfect piece of art, which
in itself fills the room with freshness and beauty.
The artist who
painted it painted nothing but cherry blossoms, and fell in the
rebellion. On a shelf in the other alcove is a very valuable
cabinet with sliding doors, on which peonies are painted on a gold
ground. A single spray of rose azalea in a pure white vase hanging
on one of the polished posts, and a single iris in another, are the
only decorations. The mats are very fine and white, but the only
furniture is a folding screen with some suggestions of landscape in
Indian ink. I almost wish that the rooms were a little less
exquisite, for I am in constant dread of spilling the ink,
indenting the mats, or tearing the paper windows. Downstairs there
is a room equally beautiful, and a large space where all the
domestic avocations are carried on. There is a kura, or fire-proof
storehouse, with a tiled roof, on the right of the house.
Kanaya leads the discords at the Shinto shrines; but his duties are
few, and he is chiefly occupied in perpetually embellishing his
house and garden. His mother, a venerable old lady, and his
sister, the sweetest and most graceful Japanese woman but one that
I have seen, live with him.
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