devilishly. I felt sickened.

As it was none of my business whether it was a Madonna or a kodanna
(young master), they let pose there any old way, but it was vulgar to
feign assurance that one's subject is in no danger of being understood
so long as others did not know the subject. Clown claims himself as a
Yedo kid. I thought that the person called Madonna was no other than a
favorite geisha of Red Shirt. I should smile at the idea of his gazing
at his tootsy-wootsy standing beneath a pine tree. It would be better
if Clown would make an oil painting of the scene and exhibit it for
the public.

"This will be about the best place." So saying the boatman stopped
rowing the boat and dropped an anchor.

"How deep is it?" asked Red Shirt, and was told about six fathoms.

"Hard to fish sea-breams in six fathoms," said Red Shirt as he dropped a
line into the water. The old sport appeared to expect to fetch some
bream. Bravo!

"It wouldn't be hard for you. Besides it is calm," Clown fawningly
remarked, and he too dropped a line. The line had only a tiny bit of
lead that looked like a weight. It had no float. To fish without a float
seemed as nearly reasonable as to measure the heat without a
thermometer, which was something impossible for me. So I looked on. They
then told me to start, and asked me if I had any line. I told them I had
more than I could use, but that I had no float.

"To say that one is unable to fish without a float shows that he is a