ABSTRACT
SONO HITO took us over one day to visit his friends at Tatsumi, an interesting old place, where we had a practical demonstration of the irresistibility of Japanese hospitality. We had intended to spend only an afternoon, but our intentions might as well have been non-existent for all that they availed. A wooden image would have succumbed, and neither of us was an image, though, in the light of the native graciousness, we appeared to ourselves wooden enough. So it was that that afternoon visit, under Tatsumi manipulation, expanded into days, and the days into weeks.
