The Motor Maids in Fair Japan | Page 3

will not do. My old joints are far too stiff to be doubled up like a pair of
nut crackers."
The girls giggled and the four little Japanese maids giggled, too; not
that they understood a word of the language, but good humor is the
keynote of the Japanese character and strangers are treated with a
sympathetic courtesy and hospitality unequaled in any other country.
However, Miss Campbell's fears were immediately set at rest, for the
long, low-ceiled drawing-room of the villa was furnished in European
fashion with plenty of comfortable arm-chairs and sofas made of
bamboo. The floors were covered with thick soft mats and the front
walls facing the piazza were really sliding panels covered with opaque
paper through which the light cast a soft mellow luster. As a matter of
fact, Dr. and Mrs. Spears, the owners of the villa, had kept it as

Japanese as possible without interfering with their foreign ideas of
comfort. The only ornaments were several beautiful scrolls and screens
and a few vases.
Instead of sitting down quietly and being served to tea, which was
evidently the next duty expected of them by these formal domestics,
Billie and her friends rushed from one room to another in a state of
eager curiosity. They poked their inquisitive little noses into the
charming bedrooms and even peeped into the mysterious kitchen
quarters where O'Haru reigned supreme,
"It's Japanese enough to be pretty and American enough to be
comfortable," observed Nancy, arranging her curls at one of the
bedroom mirrors.
"I don't know why you call it 'American,'" objected Billie. "I think you
should say 'international,' since beds may be imported from Turkey,
Russia, Prussia, England, or France, to say nothing of Germany and
Italy."
"Well, no matter what nationality it is, I'm glad I'm going to sleep on a
bed instead of on the floor as Japanese girls do, with a little bench for a
pillow to keep from rumpling my hair."
Just then a Japanese girl appeared in the doorway. She was quite young,
perhaps seventeen, perhaps older, and enchantingly pretty.
"Her eyes are like stewed prunes," wrote Nancy to her mother that
night, "rich and black and luscious. Her hair is as black as father's
ebony box and quite as shiny; her skin smooth and creamy. She has a
little rosebud mouth and a small straight nose and she wore the most
beautiful kimono, all blue with a cerise sash or obi, as it is called. Her
name is 'Onoye' and she's the daughter of the cook, O'Haru. She is just
one of the maids in the house, I suppose, but she seems better class and
she speaks a little English. Her mother adores her and I suppose Onoye
is being spoiled Japanese fashion, which is very different from
American fashion. Japanese girls are the most unselfish, uncomplaining,
considerate, everything-that-I'm-not little souls I ever saw."

Nancy's description of O'Haru's daughter was not exaggerated in the
least. Little Onoye, pausing timidly at the entrance to their bedroom,
was a vision to charm the eye. She blushed, smiled deprecatingly and
hung her head.
"Will honorable ladies be pleased to employ humble refreshment?" she
announced in a funny high voice with a prim, precise accent.
The girls would have laughed if it had not been impolite. All their
impulsive actions must be checked in this land of perfect manners, or
they would certainly appear rude and rough.
"We should be most pleased and happy, I am sure," answered Billie,
feeling that she must not be outdone in lofty expression, "But what
excellent English you speak. Do you live here, too?"
Onoye looked up and her face brightened.
"I make studying of American language one time," she said.
"And are we to have tea now?" asked Nancy as the Japanese girl
backed out of the room.
"If pleasingly to gracious ladies," she answered.
With bobs and bows, she led the way to a summer house in the garden
where the others were already installed in comfortable chairs.
"These are certainly the most hospitable servants I ever saw," Miss
Campbell was saying to Mary and Elinor. "They make one feel like a
guest in one's own house. I am sure if I lived here long, I should learn
to meet myself at the front door and invite myself to take refreshments
in the garden."
The girls smiled lazily. They seemed somehow to have entered into a
land of unrealities and dream pictures. The bamboo and rice paper villa
was a doll's house, the lovely garden, a stage setting and the
picturesque band of Japanese servants gliding noiselessly about, the

chorus.
And while they talked and sipped their tea, a fat, decrepit pug dog came
slowly toward them down the walk on spindle legs. As the aged
creature approached, O'Haru paused