On the Akasaka Road, in Tokyo, there is a slope called Kii-no-kuni-zaka,--
which means the Slope of the Province of Kii. I do not know why it is
called the Slope of the Province of Kii. On one side of this slope you see
an ancient moat, deep and very wide, with high green banks rising up to
some place of gardens; -- and on the other side of the road extend the long
and lofty walls of an imperial palace. Before the era of street-lamps and
jinrikishas, this neighborhood was very lonesome after dark; and belated
pedestrians would go miles out of their way rather than mount the
Kii-no-kuni-zaka, alone, after sunset.


All because of a Mujina that used to walk there. (1)



The last man who saw the Mujina was an old merchant of the Kyobashi
quarter, who died about thirty years ago. This is the story, as he told
it:--


One night, at a late hour, he was hurrying up the Kii-no-kuni-zaka, when
he perceived a woman crouching by the moat, all alone, and weeping
bitterly. Fearing that she intended to drown herself, he stopped to offer
her any assistance or consolation in his power. She appeared to be a slight
and graceful person, handsomely dressed; and her hair was arranged like
that of a young girl of good family. "O-jochu," [1] he exclaimed,
approaching her,-- "O-jochu, do not cry like that!... Tell me what the
trouble is; and if there be any way to help you, I shall be glad to help