into the cemetery of the neighboring temple. But it continued to flutter
before him as if unwilling to be driven further, and acted so queerly that
he began to wonder whether it was really a butterfly, or a ma [16]. He
again chased it, and followed it far into the cemetery, until he saw it fly
against a tomb,-- a woman's tomb. There it unaccountably disappeared; and
he searched for it in vain. He then examined the monument. It bore the
personal name "Akiko," (3) together with an unfamiliar family name, and an
inscription stating that Akiko had died at the age of eighteen. Apparently
the tomb had been erected about fifty years previously: moss had begun to
gather upon it. But it had been well cared for: there were fresh flowers
before it; and the water-tank had recently been filled.


On returning to the sick room, the young man was shocked by the
announcement that his uncle had ceased to breathe. Death had come to the
sleeper painlessly; and the dead face smiled.


The young man told his mother of what he had seen in the cemetery.


"Ah!" exclaimed the widow, "then it must have been Akiko!"...


But who was Akiko, mother?" the nephew asked.


The widow answered:--