Page:A Daughter of the Samurai.pdf/273

Rh Nevertheless, I had some annoying experiences, for to her heart I was still little Etsu-bo Sama, although her lips acknowledged that I had reached the dignified position of “Oku Sama”—Honourable Mistress—and although I had acquired some wonderful ideas and possessed two astonishingly active children, who dressed queerly and talked too loud.

My troubles began the very first night. After Taki had closed the outside gates and fastened the front and kitchen doors I heard her sliding the wooden panels which ran along the outer edge of the porch overlooking the garden. These were for protection in stormy weather and to keep us safe at night, but when closed they shut out the air completely.

“Don’t close the amadoes tight, Taki,” I called. “Leave a little space between them. We need fresh air for the rooms.”

“''Maa! Maa!''” cried Taki, with profound astonishment in her voice. “You left your home when you had but little learning, Oku Sama. Air without the smile of the august Sun goddess has poison in it.”

“But, Taki,” I protested, “this is like a foreign house. It has gas for the heaters, and we need outside air, even at night.”

She hesitated, evidently much distressed.

“It may be that air in the honourable foreign house is different,” she muttered, “but it seems peculiar—peculiar. And besides, it is not safe in a great city where burglars live.”

She walked away shaking her head and grumbling to herself. Feeling that I had established my authority, I went to bed, only to be awakened by a stealthy, intermittent rumbling, which presently ended in a muffled snap as Taki pushed in the wooden bolt of the last panel.

“Well,” I said to myself, half provoked, half amused,