GIFT OF 
 
A. M. Robertson 
 
 San Francisco 
 1901 
 
 if 
 
Copyright 1901 
 by A. M. Robertson 
 
 Thff Hurdock. Press 
 ;V< $an, Francisco 
 
308707 
 
f 
 
 Verses by MABEL HYDE 
 
Pictures by HELEN HYDE 
 
\ 
 
 CO NT TNT 5 
 
 New Year 
 
 January Second 
 
 The Land of Approximate Time 
 
 Japanese Stairs 
 
 Sonnet 
 
 A Nippon Dog 
 
 An Eclipse 
 
 The Shishi 
 
 Wooden Clogs 
 
 The Forward Plum 
 
 You Might Suppose, If You Didn t Know 
 
 Tokyo 
 
 Japanese Trees 
 
 A Thumping. Clumping on the Street 
 
 Buddhist Temples 
 
 Would You Like to be a Coolie ? 
 
 Would You Like to be a Farmer? 
 
 Riding in a Sampan 
 
 The Lay of the Doguya 
 
 The Friends of Daikoku 
 
 The Little Geisha 
 
 The Imperial Mail 
 
 Would You? 
 
 The Korogi Sings, for the Autumn has Come 
 
 The Coquette 
 
NEW YEAR 
 
 When the New Year comes to town 
 All the world is upside down, 
 All the world is jolly; 
 Dusters fly in fingers fleet, 
 Minstrels wander up the street, 
 O er and o er their song repeat, 
 With dragon-dance and folly. 
 
 Rice-straw fringes flutter high, 
 Gohei white with seaweed nigh, 
 While crawfish red are bending; 
 Snowy blooms on plum-trees view. 
 All the street is green bamboo, 
 Sturdy little pine-trees, too, 
 Which distant groves are sending. 
 
All the gods have joined the fun. 
 
 The god of wealth is there for one 
 
 And Ebis. who s been %hing. 
 
 The Treasure -ship has brought them in. 
 
 That each the Precious Things may win 
 
 And add their voices to the din, 
 
 New Year s luck a-wishing 
 
 9 
 
V 
 
 JANUARY SECOND 
 
 Kara-kong, kara! 
 Of smoothly lacquered clogs, 
 Rustling silks and gay brocades, 
 They re wearing their best togs. 
 
 Click, click, click! 
 
 It patters everywhere, 
 
 As feathered little shuttlecocks 
 
 Fly into the air. 
 
 Whizz, buzz, whirr 
 
 Great birds of soaring kites 
 
 They dart on high and fill the sky 
 
 Till shine the twinkling lights. 
 
 Hui-sha. hui! 
 
 Of coolies on parade, 
 
 In picture coats and dragging floats 
 
 Of sake not afraid. 
 
 Ha, ha, hai 
 
 The town s gone mad; 
 
 It s lost its sense, it is immense; 
 
 Let s all be glad! 
 
THE LAND OF APPROXIMATE TIME 
 
 Here s to the Land of Approximate Time ! 
 
 Where nerves are a factor unknown, 
 Where acting as balm are manners calm, 
 
 And seeds of sweet patience are sown. 
 
 Where it is very ill-bred to go straight to the point. 
 
 Where one bargains at leisure all day, 
 Where with method unique" at once" means a week. 
 
 In the cool, easy Japanese way. 
 
 Where every clock runs as it happens to please, 
 And they never agree on their strikes; 
 
 Where even the sun otten joins in the fun, 
 And rises whenever he likes. 
 
 Then here s to the Land of Approximate Time, 
 
 The Land of the Leisurely Bow, 
 Where the overcharged West may learn how to rest, 
 
 The Land of Inconsequent Now! 
 
 XI 
 
JAPANESE STAIRS 
 
 I wish that I had reversible feet, 
 
 So, without after repairs, 
 I could descend in a manner neat 
 
 These precipitous Japanese stairs! 
 
 12 
 
SONNET 
 
 
 O matting! fetish of .this Eastern land, 
 
 Thou surface unprofaned by shoe or heel, 
 Whose spotless plane is never marred by sand, 
 
 Who degradations of no load dost feel 
 As do base carpets of the Western clime 
 
 From heavy-footed tables, shelves, and chairs. 
 Upon whose backs are poised ^with mien sublime 
 
 All dust-collecting tricks and ancient wares. 
 O thou whose undisturbed broad expanse 
 
 Knoweth but tread of snowy tabied feet. 
 Whose softly yielding self dost grace enhance 
 
 Of prostrate forms and heads bent low to greet. 
 Lest thou too wouldst to common uses deign. 
 Ne er leave J apan. where thou supreme dost reign 
 
A NIPPON DOG 
 
 A Nippon dog is a thing to see 
 He shows a matchless pedigree 
 Of dachs a-nd poodle. wolT and setter. 
 Fox and hound, and nothing better. 
 A misfit, remnant thing is he. 
 This beast of varied pedigree! 
 
I" is easy to see for you and for me 
 the search of the boy has begun 
 through the rain they >e looking in vain 
 i a partial eclipse of the son! 
 
THE SHISHi 
 
 At the gates of all the temples, 
 Shishi grim are ever seen; 
 
 Coming from the realm of fable. 
 Dog and lion stand between. 
 
 There the male, with mien terfffic, 
 Spends^ his time in long harangue 
 
 Knowing well his sex s privilege 
 In the land from which he sprang 
 
 But the female sits in silence. 
 Feels her dignity beneath. 
 
 To her lord to make just answer, 
 \ 
 
 Though she often grits her teeth 
 
 Shishi guarding all the temples, 
 When al times my soul is blue, 
 
 All I need to mend my humor 
 Is to. stand and gaze at you ! 
 
 16 
 
I wish on wooden clogs to walk, 
 Above the mud to proudly stalk. 
 
 i> 
 
 And all the deepest puddles find 
 Where high and dry I should nt mind 
 
 But here I have to plod and sqush 
 Through sucking bogs and sticky mush 
 And far too soon my home must seek 
 Because my rubbers spring a leak! 
 
 "JS3L 
 
THE FORWARD PLUM 
 
 
 The Plum declared the time had come 
 To fill the world with Spring; 
 
 But the timid little Cherry would n t 
 Think of such a thing! 
 
 The Plum-bloom boldly ventured out, 
 The ground was white with snow ; 
 
 In tones of wrath she bade the Sun 
 Command the Snow to go. 
 
 The Sun hurled down his ptercing darts 
 The Snow wept tears of grief. 
 
 Until she called the cold Night Wind 
 To come to her relief. 
 
Full <many days and nights they fought, 
 The Moon for judge they chose. 
 
 The saucy Plum refused to move. 
 Though sore were nipped her toes. 
 
 Then thick and fast the angry Sun 
 
 Aimed arrows at the spot. 
 Until one bright victorious eve 
 
 Behold, the Snow was not! 
 
 The Moon, to be impartial. 
 
 Turned half her garments black; 
 But the Ptum danced wildly on her twigs 
 
 And cried. "The Spring is back!" 
 
 S 
 
T 
 X 
 
 YOU MIGHT SUPPOSE. IF YOU DIDN T KNOW 
 
 You might suppose, if you did n t know, 
 There were no queer things in Tokyo: 
 That when t was time the train would go; 
 That railroad clocks were never slow, 
 That city lights on the moats would glow 
 And mark your way in a blinking row, 
 And paper lanterns you need n t show, 
 These things you d suppose, if you did n t know. 
 
 You might suppose, if you did n t know, 
 When Winter comes and the cold winds blow, 
 No gaping cracks your waits would show; 
 That water in pipes to your doors would flow, 
 And not be hauled from the well below; 
 That servants never would answer "No!" 
 And with their ideas your plans o erthrow. 
 You might suppose, if you didn t know. 
 
You might suppose, if you did n t know, 
 When you wait the streets and shopping go 
 No joggling crowd would gather and grow. 
 Or smoke in your face, or step on your toe. 
 Nor naughty boys, in manner low, 
 Bad names would call, or mud-pies throw, 
 And you wouldn t feel like a circus ; v oh, 
 Perchance you d suppose, if you did n t know. 
 
 You might suppose, if you did n t know. 
 
 That this Eastern world was full of woe. 
 
 And that ail these things "would- " plague you so, 
 
 Yes. of course."* you d suppose, if you didn t know. 
 
 21 
 
Little low houses with roofs of gray tiles. 
 
 Wandering windings of highways so small 
 keading one onward o er miles and o er miles 
 
 Through by-ways and alleys, o er bridges and all. 
 Sinuous, gleaming, are blue waterways 
 
 Where flat, heavy junks ever glidingly go, 
 Where the great-hatted fishermen spend all their days, 
 
 Where the boatmen are calling, and that s Tokyo. 
 
 Park s of majestical. tall spreading trees 
 
 Where red temples gleam and where dead princes rest, 
 Gardens as beautiful. even as these 
 
 Gazing at Fuji away in the west. 
 Dainty, wee figures with shining black hair, 
 
 Sweet voices murmur with gay laughter low, 
 Butterfly babies who flit here and there, 
 
 A soft, silken rustle. and that s Tokyo. 
 
The yellow of sunset is tinting the sky, 
 
 The trees silhouetted in lines black and bold, 
 No waves and no ripples on twilight moats lie, 
 
 A faint mist envelops the gray ramparts old. 
 The call of the vender, the mother s low croons, 
 
 The clapper-man s sticks as he walks to and fro, 
 A pate light diffusing the round paper moons, 
 
 Then the silence of midnight, and that s Tokyo! 
 
JAPANESE TREES 
 
 I can paint great umbrellas and thatches and moats 
 And bare-footed coolies in yellow rain-coats. 
 Or wee toddling tots in gay gowns, if you please. 
 But the things that distract me are Japanese trees 1 
 
 For they fling out their limbs in contortions terrific. 
 
 Or wave benedictions in style beatific ;" 
 
 They mince and they caper, they dance and they prance. 
 
 While gnarled, snaky rootlets their weirdness enhance. 
 
 Or a saucy one-footer, aping old age, 
 Brings forth golden fruitlings in manner most sage. 
 Or a gray elfish trunk with a nondescript line 
 needled endeavor pretends it s a pine 
 
 me back home to the land of my birth, 
 
 js grow with dignity out of the earth, 
 >shrub is a shrub, and a tree is a tree, 
 grotesque caprices are what distract me! 
 
A THUMPING, CLUMPING ON THE STREET 
 
 If perchance on the street you see something new, 
 With attention discreet you look it all through, 
 A clumpity- clump you will speedily hear 
 As the wooden clogs gather from far and from near. 
 
 Or if to the station you go for the train. 
 
 You may raise your voice loudly, but talking is vain 
 
 There s a clatter most deafening of shuffling and scraping. 
 
 As armies of clogs from the gates are escaping 
 
 But once in the house you may do as you please, 
 
 You may keep on your boots while those things Japanese 
 
 With their clumpity- thumpity-clickety- clack 
 
 Bide without /m disgrace till their owners come back. 
 

 BUDDHIST TEMPLES 
 
 Do you think a Buddhist temple 
 
 Is a place to take a child, 
 Where those beings most ferocious 
 
 Glare about "with faces wild ; 
 Where two fearsome giant Ni-O, 
 
 Crimson red, beside the gate, 
 Airy demons ever threaten 
 
 To beware their bloody hate? 
 
 Where a Fudo dealing justice 
 
 Sends the wicked down below 
 Where the horrid imps are waiting 
 
 And a fiendish Emma O, 
 Where a Kwannon, thousand handed 
 
 Scatters mercies into space 
 And Daikoku apoplectic 
 
 Guards his wealth with mumpy face 
 
Where a Thunder -gd is whirling 
 
 With his drums in circling forms. J 
 And the God of Winds is bursting 
 
 As he blows the earth s great storms . 
 Where the Dragon s claws are clutching. 
 
 And his jaws are open wide 
 As his scaly coils he s hurling 
 
 Boldly down the temple side ? 
 
 All these creatures have their uses. 
 
 All our evil deeds they view- 
 Naughty girls and boys are teaching 
 
 What they daily should n t do: 
 Yet Amida on his lotus 
 
 Preaches peace with features mild, 
 
WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE A COOLIE? 
 
 Would you like to be a coolie. 
 
 And wear a flapping coat. 
 With a label like an ace upon your back? 
 
 Would you wear a mushroom hat. 
 
 Skinny tights to balance that. 
 With sandals on your feet so bare and black? 
 
 Would you tike to be a coolie. 
 
 And play you were a horse. 
 And haul impatient tourists to and fro? 
 
 For a few behaggJed cents. 
 
 Great lumbering copper pence. 
 And grumblings loud and deep when you were slow? 
 
 28 
 
Would you like to be a coolie, 
 
 And carry granite rocks 
 In a little wicker basket on a pole? 
 
 With a towel round your head, 
 
 Would you weed the road instead, 
 The moss from off the stones would you cajole ? 
 
 Would you like to be a coolie, 
 
 Where hurry there is none, 
 Where there s ever time to smoke and drink your tea, 
 
 Where your pay is by the load, 
 
 Where your conscience does not goad, 
 A quiet minded coolie would you be? 
 
 Would you like to be a coolie, 
 
 And have a paper house. 
 And warm your fingers at a charcoal pan, 
 
 And live on ancient fish, 
 
 A slimy, greenish dish, 
 Would you like to be a coolie in Japan? 
 
WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE A FARMER? 
 
 Would you like to be a farmer 
 
 And wade in liquid mud 
 With the slippery rice -field wrigglers gliding by, 
 
 Where the creatures nip your toes, 
 
 And your back is full of woes, 
 A farmer s occupation would you try? 
 
 Would you like to be a farmer 
 And tread a water-wheel 
 
 With a brain -destroy ing sun upon your head; 
 Would you walk and never stop, 
 Though you never reached the top, 
 
 When an automatic pump would do instead? 
 
Would you like to be a farmer 
 With a wooden hoe to plow, 
 And dig along one row for half a day, 
 
 When in other lands they ride, 
 
 With a larger wage beside, 
 Would you like to try that hooked -up Ratchet way? 
 
 Would you like to be a farmer 
 
 With a hay -stack on your back, 
 With naught but feet projecting from the grass, 
 
 Would you carry stuff to sell 
 
 When a horse would do as well, 
 Or a slowly ambling, antiquated ass? 
 
 Would you like to be a farmer 
 
 Where your wife pranced forth in 
 And you showed the independence of 
 
 In a ballet -skirt of straw 
 
 When the weather s somewhat raw, 
 Would you like to be a farmer in Japan 
 

 iY 
 
 A-v 
 
 **&. 
 
 T? 
 
 RIDING IN A SAMPAN 
 
 In the land of queer things, where queer things you vie.w, 
 Where queer things you. eat and queer things you do, - 
 Queerer than all other queer things beside 
 Are the very outlandishly queer things yDu ride. 
 
 You may ride on a pack horse, your feet on his mane, 
 
 And drive with one rope, without bit, without rein, 
 
 Or else in a basket which swings from a rod 
 
 In smallest dimensions you pose like a god , 
 
 Or when in a ricksha the miracle feel 
 
 That confident infants escape from your wheel. 
 
 But better than these things to try. if you can, 
 
 Is a few hours ride in a groaning sampan. 
 
I 
 
 A lumbering, flat-bottomed, .low-roofed scow, 
 With no place of comfort in stern or in bow, 
 And out at the back there s a long curving tail 
 Which threshes the water when furled is the sail. 
 But when there s a quite imperceptible breeze 
 The boatman sits down as he smokes at his ease 
 First hoisting a tattered, beribboned thing gray, 
 Which wearily droops as it crawls on its way. 
 
 You sit on the floor, as there s no better seat. 
 
 Indulging with cat naps your alternate feet, 
 
 And. fitting your head twixt the roof and the rail. 
 
 Admire the view as you silently sail, 
 
 Yet never forgetting a most wary eye . 
 
 To keep on black crawlers that scamper close by. 
 
 Unfolding at length, you emerge from your hole, 
 
 A stepless pier climbing, a most thankful soul. 
 
 Then ride on your pack horse, a perch insecure, 
 And curl in your kago, a thing to endure, 
 With laughter roll after your swift - running man. 
 But ever eschew your second sampan. 
 
 33 
 
Bring from the kiln the new china. 
 
 Kutani, old Satsuma rare, 
 Ninsei. Hirato, Imari, 
 
 We manufacture it there. 
 Rub down the glaze on the grindstone. 
 
 Smear the brown age, it s no sin, 
 For the foreigner bold is rolling in gold. 
 
 Let s take the foreigner in ! 
 
 Bring to me quickly my gum-pot 
 
 Glue on a handle or two, 
 Mark a few cracks with gold lacquer - 
 
 Any old junk will do. 
 Fill a bronze hole with a nail-head 
 
 And paint out the color of tin, 
 Less they feel in the spout, they never find out, 
 
 Let s take the foreigner in ! 
 
 m 
 
 -r 
 
 \ 
 
Cut out the wood block for the printer 
 
 And follow the old artist s line, 
 Soak the white paper in tea leaves 
 
 And eat in a few worm 1 holes fine, 
 Paste on a torn ragged backing, 
 
 Put on a huge price, and don t grin, 
 For the foreigners ride with a dude for a guide, 
 
 Let V take the foreigner in ! 
 
 Run for* the daimio s weapons, 
 
 Create his old lacquer tray, 
 Hunt up impossible tea -jars, 
 
 Stained carving and wine -cups display ; 
 Roll up your choice old collection 
 
 In patchy brocade, wearing thin, 
 For the foreigners seek a touch of antique, 
 
 We 11 take the foreigner in ! 
 
There s a lively little beastie found in all Japan, 
 As loving a little beastie as known to mind of man. 
 No matter where one wanders, to north or south or west, 
 This devoted little beastie comes to share his rest. 
 
 He s a jolly little beastie. who loves to romp and play 
 Upon resounding ceilings and turn night into day. 
 He and all his cousins pursue a noisy game, 
 Run races and, jump hurdles and tumble o er the same. 
 
Sometimes they fight a duel. When one is heard to fail, 
 With humping, and with bumping he s dragged off by the tail. 
 At times , in calmer moments, they all sit down and sing 
 With cheerful sqeals in tunes unknown to other living thing! 
 
 Should one suggest a little feast of phosphorus on toast, 
 
 The people shriek in horror, for never have they dosed 
 
 Those guileless little beasties that bring them luck and wealth^ 
 
 Nor in a trap with fragrant cheese have coaxed them all by stealth. 
 
 Those attentive little beasties, the friends of old Daikok , 
 That gambol o er his rice -bags and think it all a joke, 
 Those clever little beasties, night spirits of Japan, 
 Collecting from the larder for the luck they bring to man. 
 
THE LITTLE GEISHA 
 
 Wandering out o mornings, 
 
 One hears the dulcet tones 
 Of samisens and quavers, 
 
 Of trilling and of groans : 
 And through the latticed doorways, 
 
 With eyes applied below, 
 One sees the busy geisha^ 
 
 Who live in Geisha Row. 
 
 The -floor is strewn with obis, 
 
 And rouge in tiny pots ; 
 They kneel before steel mirrors 
 
 And dab the beauty-spots. 
 Now some are loudly singing, 
 
 Some dance with rhythmic beat. 
 Those naughty little geishas 
 
 Who live in Geisha Street. 
 
Again, when day is older, 
 
 While still the sun is high, 
 Bedecked in silks and tassels, 
 
 They come a -riding by, 
 Their eyes with mischief gleaming, 
 
 Lips carmine, brows of snow, 
 Those coquettish little geisha 
 
 Who live in Geisha Row ! 
 
 And should one go a -dining, 
 
 With chopsticks on fhe floor. 
 One hears a teasing laughter 
 
 As they push the sliding door. 
 They come, those fairy beings, 
 
 And sway on gliding feet ; 
 Those bewitching little geisha 
 
 Who live in Geisha Street! 
 
THE IMPERIAL MAIL 
 
 The children are scattering like autumn s dry leaves, 
 Aye, turn to see what is the matter ! 
 
 For outrunners two with wide flapping sleeves 
 Are preceding a galloping /clatter. 
 
 Nearer it sweeps with a furious dash, 
 
 The chickens distractedly fly. 
 "Clear the way! " -then a scarlet flash, 
 
 The Imperial mail has gone by ! 
 
If all your doors were paper, 
 
 And all your windows too, 
 And you nearly froze when the wind arose, 
 
 What do you think you d do? 
 
 If your house had solid shutters 
 
 Which were put up in the rain. 
 And with a knot hole s spark you sat in the dark. 
 
 Do you think you would complain ? 
 
 But when vicious little earthquakes 
 
 Shake you to and fro, 
 With sulky growl, and typhoons howl, 
 
 It s time to pack and go ! 
 
THE KOROGI SINGS, FOR THE AUTUMN HAS COME 
 
 The sunset of summer is touching the hills, 
 With purple and gold the green valley it fills; 
 The villagers shout as they gather the sheaves, 
 Cool showers from heaven refresh thirsty leaves; 
 Like the touch of the master on soft-muted string, 
 Their service of praise the wee earth-people bring; 
 The joy of their humming resounds far and near. 
 For the korogi sings, and the autumn is here. 
 
 The heat and the toil of the summer are past, 
 The Year welcomes homeward her children at last, 
 And the winds of old Winter shall lull them to rest, 
 While the Earth -Mother pillows their heads on her breast; 
 The bell-cricket tinkles, the frogs join the song, 
 ,The cattle low soft, for the day has beeh long, 
 rThe air is a-tremble with wee voices clear, 
 Tor the korogi sings, ajid the autumn is here/ 
 
 Rejoice, ; queenly Earth, in your royal array! 
 
 Rejoice, -.all ye birds, as ye sing far away ! 
 
 tYe little marsh minstrels, pour forth your delight? 
 
 Earth calls you to join in her chorus to-night. 
 
 O lusty red Harvest-Moon ! lavish your beams 
 
 Till the ripples awaken and dance on the streams. 
 
 Then sing, men and maidens, the Year calls you home- 
 
 With the korogi sing, for the autumn has comei, 
 
^ 
 
 N. 
 
 f-r. 
 
 C 
 
 THE . t COQUETTE 
 
 Fair Fuji is a gay coquette, 
 
 Her lover Sun is in the sky. 
 In fleecy dlouds she hides, and yet 
 
 Peeps coyly forth with one bright eye ; 
 Till, having wooed her long in vain, 
 
 He seeks the west in evening s hush, 
 The heartless one : glides forth again 
 
 And becks him back with rosy blush. 
 
 Now daily grows he wan and pale. 
 
 Yet still pursues his fruitless quest, 
 Till, shyly drawing back her veil, 
 
 She sees him feebly drop to rest. 
 Then smiling through the wintry night, 
 
 E en while the other sighs forlorn, 
 In bridal robes of snowy white, 
 
 She waits to greet him in the morn. 
 
 43 
 
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