ABSTRACT
In those halcyon days of the Tokugawa regime, when Japan, almost secluded from the rest of the world, was leading the life of a hermit, there lived in the city of Yedo a mask-maker named Gengoro. By dint of his rare craftsmanship, he built up a reputation as a maker of noh masks, and was patronized by many celebrated actors of various schools in the service of the Shogun. It is almost universally the case that the skilled artizans in Japan are notorious for their unpunctuality in the execution of orders, as they work only when they are in the right mood and can depend on doing full justice to their ability; and our Gengoro was no exception to the rule. With some little industry, he would have easily enjoyed an ample income, enabling him and his family to live in comfort, if not in luxury. As it was, the straitened circumstances of his domestic finance were often a source of complaint vigorously ventilated by his wife. And this unpleasant scene was re-enacted on the approach of the Bon Festival, an occasion of popular rejoicing and gay attire. Gengoro's wife could not stand the thought of allowing her only child, a little boy, to be without a holiday dress for the coming festival season, and to look like a beggar amidst the children of the neighbourhood, who would then be in their finest in honour of the occasion.
