their being clad in at least a dozen _kimonos_,[2] put on one over the
other to keep the cold out. Just picture to yourself any one wearing even
half that number of coats, and you will doubtless agree with me that
one's form would not be much improved thereby in appearance. The noise
increased until New-Year's Eve, and when at last the New Year broke in
upon them, it was something appalling. The air was full of false notes,
vocal and otherwise, and I need scarcely say that at the "Dai butzu" also
grand festivities went on for the greater part of the night.

I was lying flat in bed on New-Year's Day, thinking of the foolishness
of humanity, when I heard a tap at the door. I looked at the watch; it
was 7.20 A.M.

"Come in," said I, thinking that the thoughtful maid was carrying my
sponge-bath, but no. In came a procession of Japs, ludicrously attired in
foreign clothes with antediluvian frock-coats and pre-historic European
hats, bowing and sipping their breath in sign of great respect. At their
head was the fat proprietor of the hotel, and each of them carried with
him in his hand a packet of visiting cards, which they severally
deposited on my bed, as I, more than ten times astounded, stood resting
on my elbows gazing at them.

"So-and-so, brick-layer and roof-maker. So-and-so, hotel proprietor and
shipping agent; so-and-so, Japanese carpenter; so-and-so, mat-maker; X,
merchant; Z, boatman," &c. &c, were how the cards read as I inspected
them one by one. I need hardly say, therefore, that the year 1891 was
begun with an extra big D, which came straight from my heart, as I
uncoiled myself out of my bed at that early hour of the morning to
entertain these professional gentlemen to drinks and cigarettes. And yet
that was nothing as compared with what came after. They had scarcely