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 An Execution in Japan. superintendent of the arrangements, for he proceeded to examine closely the holes, and the heaps, pointed out where alterations were needed, turning over the heap of mats, and finally, seated himself on the camp stool in the midst of the space, and gazed around at the crowd in the full consciousness of being for the time one of the most important per sonages in Yokohama. But his supremacy at once paled when no less an individual than the executioner arrived on the scene. This accomplished amidst a silence so absolute that I could almost hear my heart beat, the great man on the camp-stool rose, and un folding a large document, read in a loud voice what I supposed to be a description of the crimes foi which the poor fellows were to suffer and the process of condemnation and sentence. This was a very long business, and before it had nearly finished the native spectators were laughing and joking upon the appearance of the doomed men, with that callousness to human suffering which so much blackens the otherwise amiable and pleasing character of the Japanese people. At last it was finished. As there were but five holes for seven prisoners, two would be obliged to remain in blind agony whilst their companions were being despatched. Five men were accordingly thrust forward with the staves and fists of the police; each man was made to squat on a mound, his clothes— if filthy, tattered rags could be called clothes—stripped from his shoulders, his hands tied behind his back, and his head pushed forward over the holes. Undoubtedly execution by the trenchant Japanese sword is as merciful a death as can be desired; but the Oriental nature, as if to compensate for this erring on the side of mercy, counter balances it by an undue prolongation of the preparations for death, which is worse than a hundred deaths. So in this case. As the poor fellows knelt over their holes the executioner slowly and deliberately took off his coat and bared his

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arms. Then he took from its silk casing the fatal sword, examined it fondly and lingeringly from the Yasttri me or filings on the hilt to keep the grash iron from slipping along the kirimon, or groove in the blade, to the point, held it over a pail whilst a cooly trickled water down it, and with a great deal of settling of his feet was ready. I was sick and giddy, but I kept my eyes fixed on the scene. At a sign from the official on the camp-stool, the executioner raised his sword slightly, hardly half a dozen inches, and be fore I could realize it the man's head was hanging over the hole by a single ligament, and the blood was gushing out in torrents. I then saw why the executioner had so completely severed the head; and the won derful skill of the Japanese swordmen, using as they do the most perfect weapons in the world, can be imagined in so arranging the force of the blow that absolute decapitation does not take place. He tore the head off, and held it toward the four sides of the square; then he gave it to a cooly, who roughly plastered the severed portion with clay and stuck it on to a kind of elevated shelf. In the meantime two coolies were thumping on the back of the prostrate body to hasten the rush of blood, after which one of the coarse mats was thrown over it and it was laid aside. I had seen enough, and I turned my head away as the executioner, after wiping his blade with paper, approached the other poor wretch, who was shouting out something at the top of his voice, whether a confession or a denunciation of injustice I was not scholar enough to understand. But although I turned my head away and saw not, I heard every sound, and could follow every act in the ghastly tragedy with exactitude. A movement amongst the crowd in a short time made me look round, and to my amazement within that square space there was not a living human being but the offi cials and their subordinates.