most lavishly sung of by the poets. There is a certain fitness, too (for Wine, Women, and Song have from time immemorial been catalogued together), that when viewing Cherry blossoms saké is the prescribed drink. This custom has been in vogue since the fifth century of our era; up to that time the Cherry blossom does not seem to have made any special appeal. The Emperor Rikiu, banqueting in a pleasure boat with courtiers and song on a lake in one of the Royal pleasure grounds, like King Cophetua saw the beautiful beggar maid, the Cherry Blossom, and declared her fair. She had attracted his attention by falling into his cup of saké. “Without wine, who can properly enjoy the sight of the Cherry blossoms?” he cried. I could improve on this story by putting a more gallant speech into the mouth of the monarch, but history would not bear me out, so I refrain. I should like to be able to say that from that incident dated the rosy blossom’s royalty, but, as a matter of fact, it was not proclaimed the national flower until three slow centuries had passed. However, it has been since then a bloom favoured by Royalty as well as by poets (often they are one and the same, in Japan); and to an Imperial lover, the Emperor Shomu, is due the credit of planting the first trees near the palace at Nara. He had seen the rustic beauty while hunting on Mount Mikasa, in Yamato, and
