At a school I had to face the usual ordeal of having to "write" as
best I could a motto for use as a wall picture. Our lettering, when
done with a brush, falls pitifully behind Chinese characters in
decorative value, and our mottoes will not readily translate into
Japanese. I was often grateful to Henley for "I am the master of my
fate, I am the captain of my soul," because with the substitution of
"commander" for captain, the lines translate literally.

We left the village through arches which had been erected by the young
men's association. At an old country house four interesting things
were shown to me. There was, first, a phial of rice seed 230 years
old. The agricultural professor who was my fellow-guest told me that
he had germinated some of the grains, but they did not produce rice
plants. The second thing was a fine family shrine before which a
religious ceremony had been performed twice a day by succeeding
generations of the same family for 350 years. The third object of
interest was a little, narrow, flat steel dagger about eight inches
long, sheathed in the scabbard of a sword. The dagger was used for
"fastening an enemy's head on." After the owner of the sword had
beheaded his foe, he drew the smaller weapon, and, thrusting one end
into the headless trunk and the other end into the base of the head,
politely united head and body once more, thus making it possible "to
show due respect and sympathy towards the dead." Finally, I had the
privilege of handling a wonderful suit of armour which was fitted
slowly together for me out of many pieces. Although it had been made
several centuries ago, this rich suit of lacquered leather had been a
Japanese general's wear on the field of battle within living memory.

One of the landowners I met was a poet who had been successful in the