would be simple enough--but they swing up the house too, carry it off, set
their furniture in it again, and resume their contented family life. It is
not at all an uncommon thing to meet a pair thus engaged in shifting their
abode. The man is marching along with a building of lath and paper, not
much bigger than a bathing-machine, swung on his shoulders, while his wife
trudges behind him with two or three big bundles tied up in blue cloth. He
carries the house, and she the furniture. Within a few hours they will be
comfortably settled in the new street to which their needs or their fancies
call them.




CHAPTER VIII

A JAPANESE DAY


The first person astir in a Japanese household is the mistress of the
house. She rises from the quilts on the floor which form her bed and puts
out the lamp, which has been burning all night. No Japanese sleeps without
an andon, a tall paper lamp, in which a dim light burns. Next she unlocks
the amado, the wooden shutters, and calls the servants.

Now the breakfast-table must be set out. In one way this is very simple,
for there is no cloth to spread, for tablecloths are unknown, and when
enough rice has been boiled and enough tea has been made, the breakfast
is ready. But there is one point upon which she must be very careful. The
lacquer rice-bowls and the chopsticks must be set in their proper order,
according to the importance of each person in the family. The slightest