There are always plenty of fires for boys to see in Japan.

Taro had seen ever so many, before he was five years old, and
the Twins had both felt ever so many earthquakes. They were so
used to them that they didn't mind them any more than you mind a
thundershower.

All of Taro's kites were kept in the Kura. The big dragon kite
had a box all to itself; Take's thirty-five dolls were there,
too;--but, dear me,--here I am telling you about kites and
dolls, when I should be telling you about the picture of the
crow, and what they did with it!

First the Twins' Father took it down off the wall and rolled it
up. Then he took it in his hand, and he and Taro and Take all
went out into the garden.

When they reached the Kura, the Father unlocked the door, and
all three stepped inside.

It was not very light, but the air was sweet and spicy. On the
shelves about the room were many beautiful boxes of all sizes
and shapes.

The Father reached up to a high shelf and took down three boxes,
that looked just alike on the outside. He opened the first and
took out a roll neatly wrapped and tied with a silk string. It
was this picture of a Japanese lady who has run out quickly to
take her washing off the line because of a shower of rain.