that as the cool weather increased their appetites, however, the food seemed a little tastable now. Listening to these discussions Yoshi began to forget his illness, and felt slightly better. He turned over wearily in his bed.
His wife, O-Ume by name, wrapped in a hanten-overdress, and with her baby on her back, was busily preparing the supper. The evening sunbeams were streaming into the kitchen through the door beyond the three-mat room. As Yoshi watched his wife, his spirits returned and he began to feel less troubled.
“I had better sharpen that razor now,” he thought, and he tried to raise his tired body into a sitting position. But when he sat up he felt dizzy, and again laid his head back upon his pillow.
“Shall I bring you some water to wash with, my dear?” asked his wife gently, and she came near to his bed, with her wet hands hanging at her sides. Yoshisaburo tried to say, “No,” but his voice was so weak that his wife did not catch his reply. When she tried to take the bed-clothes off him, and to carry his spittoon and other things from his bedside, he tried to cry out to her, “No, leave them alone!” but again his wife did not hear him. Once more his reviving spirits became irritated.
“Shall I support your body from behind?” asked his wife, and she came and stood behind her husband.
“Bring me the razor-strop and Mr. Yamada’s razor!” said Yoshisaburo. His wife looked at him for a moment and was silent, then she said quietly, “Are you able to do it now?” “Bring them to me at any
