you have lots of water here some time of the year!”
The idea is simple in the carrying out, though subtle in theory. The bed of a lake is hollowed out,—not too deep, for that would upset the vraisemblance of the scheme, as, if it were not shallow, how did the water dry up so early in the season? Sand and pebbles form the edges, and big boulders jut up as rocky islands might, while overhanging shrubs try in vain to look at themselves in what should be the mirror below. Irises and water grasses make a pretty group, with some low, dark rocks, and a stone lantern in another nook, as if the water had just receded from their feet, and the illusion is complete.
Or, perhaps, it is a cascade’s spirit which is to be lured to the place. Just as on All Souls’ Day, the Japanese Bon, or ‘Festival of the Dead,’ spirits are evoked by gifts, and their blessing and presence asked for by getting a habitation, food and clothing ready for them, so, by making a bed for a brook, a series of leaping-stones for a waterfall, the spirit sought for comes. I do not say that the reality comes in the case of either the water or the Souls of the Dead, but the comforting assurance of them to the imaginative person—even to those not Japanese—most certainly does. I have more than once felt sure that I heard the tiny trickling noise of water dripping down between the rocks,
