The Birmingham age-herald., 1904-11-25
MAKING A CALL IN JAPAN.
Weird Smoking By the Host Has AL
 most Hypnotic Effect.

 Eleanor Franklin in Leslie's Weekly.
 One makes call at a Japanese house let us say, on business-and one finds the manner of it's charming The little jochu, the maid servant, lowing low to the ground as one enters, helps to re- move ones shoes. then leads the way into the reception room. What else Is one to call the place where one Is received? At night 1t may be a sleeping room or it may be where mine host and his fam fly dine. There Is nothing about it to prove that 1t Is neither of these. It is merely a room, absolutely bare, save for a vase of flowers, perhaps tastefully ar ranged In the tokonoma, or some other single ornament in this only corner of Japanese house where ornaments are dis played. One finds it restful sweet, how
 ever this bare simplicity, and one sinks upon the soft mat the jochu places at
 ones feet with sigh of contentment.
 In an instant Shijin, the master, enters and orders the jochu to bring the inevit-
 able pot of honorable tea" He doesn't
 have to ask for the tabako-bon, for that
 she instantly brings upon all occasions.
 The tabako-bon Is mysterious thing to
 one at first, and one watches with inter-
 est the manner of proceeding with 1t. It
 is a small box, usually of beautifully pol ished lacquer, in which is a bit of hibachi,
 or earthen flrebox, holding a few live
 charcoals neatly covered with fine white
 ashes Alongside the hibachi Is always a little bamboo tree, also usually prettily
 wrought, which one regrets to learn Is
 used for a cuspidor Then there may be
 several lserus lying on the tray, and a
 pouch of tobacco, sweet smelling and cut into threads of gossamer-like texture and refinement. The kiseru is a tiny pipe, the like of which was never seen outside of Japan. It Is a simple little thing, bam- boo tube really the size of a pencil, fitted
 at one end with a mouthpiece of metal
 not unlike cigarette holder. and at the | other end with a similar piece of metal not unlike a cigarette holder. and at the ether end with similar piece of metal l rounded out into a wee bit of bowl | about the size of a full-grown green pea. | While one is noticing all this and a few ether things. Shjin Is lowing low before one. murnuring honorifics and asking l about one's family, even unto the fifty
 second cousins, humbling himself and his the while in the most extravagant hu-
 milifics. Platitudlnarian remarks follow l anent the weather the war-nothing g much-duiing which he proceeds to load a | kiseru with the finely cut tobacco. invit- | ing you to do likewise. The little thing l holds only bit of a ball about the size
 of the head of an ordinary black hat pin, | just enough for one puff, and then-pank, | pank, panki-it is emptied against the
 side of the tabako-bon and reflled.
 This continues solemnly for a few mos
 ments, each getting a light at the live 1 coal in the hibachi in his turn, until
 mine host and myself find ourselves dis | cussng business In a very cloud of soft | blue smoke. through which I the strang- 1 er see fantastic pictures of yesterday, l the yesterday across hundreds of years
 of yesterdays. when this quaint custom 1 first became part of the life of strange l Japan. At the same time I, the stranger
 realize that I am not quite expert in the
 use of the kiseru, and that it Is a more complicated art than is at first apparent. | I take a long pull at the little pipe and
 then, pouf I blow all the smoke away
 and am left smokeless until I can reload
 and light again. Not so Shijin San. He
 takes long pull at the kiseru and-one i waits-ones attention is arrested in spite 1 of one pank, pank, pank, he empties the
 pipe and proceeds to refill 1t, but no | smoke issues from his mouth.
 He must have eaten it. But how could | he? I make up my mind that will try | it myself the next round. My friend | breathes naturally and easily, yet l breathes no sign of smoke. I am lost in | wonder and admiration, when prestol there 1t comes in a perfect volume from his nostrils. for all the world like the
 misted breath of jaded horse on a bit- ter winters day It Is a staggering sur-
 prise, but a surprise which brings an assurance that my Japanese friend can
 not include in his great lore of necro-
 nancy. In his bag of bewildering tricks. that of swallowing and properly digest
 ing tobacco smoke. Meantime we are talking and drinking countless tiny cups of colorless. sugarless. creamless tea, a tea peculiar to Japan. which even for eianers soon learn to like above all beverages. We exchange a few more
 honorifcs and humlifics. good wishes
 and extravagant compliments. and then
 say 'sayonara," goodbye. and I am so
 pleased with the soothing softness of my
 experience that don't realize until af-
 terward that our business ended-mostly in smoke.