"You don't like beetle-bites any better, do you?" Taro said.

"Well," said Take, "I'd rather the beetle should bite me than Mother."

"Well, now, maybe you'll be a Paragon yourself sometime," the Mother said.

"There weren't any women paragons, were there?" asked Taro.

"Oh, yes," said the Mother. "Once there was a young girl who loved her father dearly, and honored him above everything in the world, as a child should. Once she and her father were in a jungle, and a tiger attacked them. The young girl threw herself upon the tiger and clung to his jaws so that her father could escape."

"Did the tiger eat her up?" said Taro.

"I suppose he did," the Mother answered.

"Was it very n.o.ble of her to be eaten up so her father could get away?" Take asked,

"Oh, very n.o.ble!" said the Mother.

"Well, then," said Take, "was it very n.o.ble of the father to run away and let her stay and be eaten up?"

"The lives of women are not worth so much as those of men," her Mother answered.

Take bounced on her cushion. "I don't see how she could honor a man who was so mean," she said.

Take's mother held up her hands. She was shocked. "Why, Take!"

she said. "The man was her father!"

"Tell us another," said Taro.

"Please, honored Mother, don't tell me about any more Paragons,"

said Take.

Her Mother was still more shocked.

"Why, little daughter," she said, "don't you want to hear about the Paragon that lay down on the cold, cold ice to warm a hole in it with his body so he could catch some fish for his cruel stepmother to eat?"

"No, if you please, dear Mother," said Take, "because all the Paragons had such horrid parents."

"My dear little girl," the Mother said, "you must not say such dreadful things! We must honor and obey our parents, no matter what kind of persons they are."

"Well," said Take, "we love and honor you and our Father--you are so good and kind." She put her hands on the matting in front of her, and bowed to the floor before her Mother.

Taro saw Take do this, and he wanted to be just as polite as she was; so he rolled over on his cushion and bowed to the floor, too.

"Now, tell us about the 'Lucky Tea-Kettle,'" begged Take.

Their Mother began: "Once upon a time--"

But just as she got as far as that they heard a little sound from Bot'Chan's cushion in the corner, and the covers began to wiggle.

"There's Bot'Chan awake," said the Mother. "I must take care of him now. The 'Lucky Tea-Kettle' must wait until another time."

And just at that minute bright spots of sunshine appeared on the paper screen, and the shadows of leaves in pretty patterns fluttered over it.

"The sun is out! The sun is out!" cried the Twins.

They ran to the door, put on their clogs, and were soon dancing about in the bright sunshine.

TAKE'S BIRTHDAY

TAKE'S BIRTHDAY

Taro and Take loved their birthdays the best of all the days in the year.

They had two of them. Most twins have only one birthday between them, but j.a.panese twins have two.

That is because all the boys in j.a.pan celebrate their birthdays together on one day, and all the girls celebrate theirs together on another day.

So, you see, though they were twins, Taro and Take didn't have the same birthday at all.

Take's birthday came first. She knew days beforehand that it was coming, for every once in a while she would say to her Mother, "How many days is it now?" and her Mother always knew she meant, "How many days is it to my birthday?"

One morning when she woke up, Take said, "Only six days more."

The next morning she said, "Only five days more." One morning she jumped out of bed very early and said, "Oh, it's to-day! To-day!

It begins this very minute."

Taro didn't get up early that day. When he heard Take singing, "It's to-day," he just buried his nose under the bedclothes and pretended to be asleep!

He remembered Take's last birthday, and he remembered that boys seemed to be in the way that day. They weren't asked to play with the girls, and they wouldn't have done it anyway, because the girls spent the whole day playing with dolls! Taro didn't think much of dolls.

Before breakfast, her Father took Take out to the Kura. He reached up to the high shelf and brought down the big red box that held the dolls. It was as big as a trunk. Then he reached down another box and carried them both into the house.

Although it was so early in the morning, the Mother had already put fresh flowers in the vase, in honor of Take's birthday.

The bedding had been put away, and on one side of the room there were five shelves, like steps against the wall. Take knew what they were for.

"Oh," said Take, "everything is all ready to begin! May I open the boxes right now?"

Her Mother said, "Yes." She even got down on her knees beside the boxes and helped Take open them. They opened the red box first.

It was full of dolls! A whole trunkful of dolls. Thirty-five of them!

The first doll Take took out was a very grand lady doll, dressed in stiff silk robes, embroidered with chrysanthemums.

"Here's the Empress," she cried; she set the Empress doll up against the trunk. Then she ran to get her dear everyday doll.

She called her everyday doll "Morning Glory," and sometimes just "Glory" for short. Glory was still asleep in Take's bed.