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In a cup of tea by laugh
katio herne. Have you ever attempted to

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mount some old tower stairway spiring up
through darkness, and in the heart of

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that darkness found yourself at the cobwebbed
edge of nothing? Or have you followed

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some coast path cut along the face
of a cliff, only to discover yourself

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at a turn on the jagged verge
of a break. The emotional worth of

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such experience from a literary point of
view, is proved by the force of

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the sensations aroused, and by the
vividness with which they are remembered. Now

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there have been curiously preserved in old
Japanese story books certain fragments of fiction that

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produce an almost similar emotional experience.
Perhaps the writer was lazy, Perhaps he

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had a quarrel with the publisher.
Perhaps he was suddenly called away from his

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little table and never came back.
Perhaps death stopped the writing brush in the

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very middle of a sentence. But
no mortal man can ever tell us exactly

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why these things were left unfinished.
I select a typical example. On the

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fourth day of the first month of
the third Tenhwa, that is to say,

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about two hundred and twenty years ago, the Lord Nakagawa Sedo, while

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on his way to make a New
Year's visit, halted with his train at

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a tea house in Hakusan in the
Hongo district of Yedo. While the party

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were resting there, one of the
Lord's attendants, Awakato named Sekinai, feeling

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very thirsty, filled for himself a
large water cup with tea. He was

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raising the cup to his lips when
he suddenly perceived in the transparent yellow infusion

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the image or reflection of a face
that was not his own. Startled,

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he looked around, but could see
no one near him. The face in

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that he appeared from the coiffure to
be the face of a young samurai.

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It was strangely distinct and very handsome, delicate as the face of a girl,

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and it seemed the reflection of a
living face, for the eyes and

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the lips were moving. Bewildered by
this mysterious apparition, second I threw away

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the tea and carefully examined the cup. It proved to be a very cheap

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water cup with no artistic devices of
any sort. He found and filled another

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cup, and again the face appeared
in the tea. He then ordered fresh

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tea and refilled the cup, and
once more the strange face appeared, this

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time with a mocking smile. But
Second Eye did not allow himself to be

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frightened. Whoever you are, he
muttered, you shall delude me no further.

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Then he swallowed the tea, face
and all, and went on his

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way, wondering whether he had swallowed
a ghost. Late in the evening of

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the same day, while on watch
in the palace of the Lord Nakagawa,

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second I was surprised by the soundless
coming of a stranger into the apartment.

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This stranger, a richly dressed young
samurai, seated himself directly in front of

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second I, and saluting the wakato
with a slight bow, observed, I

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am shikibu Henai met you to day
for the first time. You do not

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seem to recognize me, he spoke
in a very low but penetrating voice,

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and sekiin I was astonished to find
before him the same sinister, handsome face

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of which he had seen and swallowed
the apparition in a cup of tea.

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It was smiling now as the phantom
had smiled, but the steady gaze of

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the eyes above the smiling lips,
was at once a challenge and an insult.

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No, I do not recognize you, returned secin. I angry but

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cool, and perhaps you will now
be good enough to inform me how you

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obtained admission to this house. In
feudal times, the residence of a lord

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was strictly guarded at all hours,
and no one could enter unannounced, except

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through some unpardonable negligence on the part
of the armed watch. Ah, you

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do not recognize me, exclaimed the
visitor, in a tone of irony,

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drawing a little nearer as he spoke. No, you do not recognize me,

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yet you took upon yourself this morning
to do me a deadly injury.

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Secondny instantly seized the tanto at his
girdle and made a fierce thrust at the

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throat of the man, but the
blade seemed to touch no substance. Simultaneously

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and soundlessly, the intruder leaped sideward
to the chamber wall and through it.

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The wall showed no trace of his
exit. He had traversed it only as

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the light of a candle passes through
lantern paper. When Second Eye made report

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of the incident, his recital astonished
and puzzled the retainers. No stranger had

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been seen either to enter or leave
the palace at the hour of the occurrence,

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and no one in the service of
the Lord Nakagawa had ever heard of

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the name shikibu Heinai. On the
following night, second I was off duty

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and remained at home with his parents. At a rather late hour, he

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was informed that some strangers had called
at the house and desired to speak with

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him for a moment. Taking his
sword, he went to the entrance,

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and there found three armed men,
apparently retainers, waiting in front of the

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door step. The three bowed respectful
to second Eye, and one of them

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said, our names are Matsuoka Bungo, Suchi Bashi Bungo, and Oko Mura

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Heiroku. We are retainers of the
noble shikibu Henai. When our master last

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night deigned to pay you a visit, you struck him with a sword.

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He was much will hurt and has
been obliged to go to the hot springs,

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where his wound is now being treated. But on the sixteenth day of

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the coming month he will return,
and he will then fitly repay you for

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the injury done him. Without waiting
to hear more. Second, I leaped

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out, sword in hand, and
slashed right and left at the strangers.

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But the three men sprang to the
wall of the adjoining building and flitted up

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the wall like shadows. And here
the old narrative breaks off. The rest

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of the story existed only in some
brain that has been dust for a century.

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I am able to imagine several possible
endings, but none of them would

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satisfy an occidental imagination. I preferred
to let the reader attempt to decide for

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himself the probable consequence of swallowing a
soul and of in a cup of tea.