There being no one to arrange a marriage for him, he grew to the age of twenty and was still a bachelor.
One October day he decided to visit Idzumo temple to see if his name was coupled with that of any maiden. So, taking with him, as a gift, the first rice-sheaf of his harvest, he started on his long day’s journey. As he approached the temple steps he heard voices. Names were being called like counting: “He; she.” “He; she.” He recognized the name of a young man he knew; then another, and another—each paired off with the name of a young woman.
“Maa! Maa!” whispered the astonished youth, “I have intruded upon a meeting of the gods.”
But his interest was too great to allow him to retreat. Creeping between the ornamental posts that supported the floor, he listened, guiltily, but with anxious hope.
Another two names! Another! “He; she.” “ He; she”—but alas! not his own.
Finally a voice of authority announced, “These are planned. Our last day is almost gone and our work for the year is ended.”
“Wait a moment,” said another voice. “There is Taro. Again he is left. Cannot we find a maiden for him?”
The youth’s heart gave a bound, for he was Taro.
“Oh, troublesome!” impatiently cried a god. “Again comes that name!”
“We need not haste. He has no one to arrange for him,” said another.
“His name must go uncoupled for another year,” came from a distant corner. “There is no maiden left.”
“Wait!” spoke the first voice. “In Chestnut Village a girl has just been born in the house of the village master. The family is of higher class, but let us give her to Taro. Then our work will be done.”
