raised the old man to great honour and riches, while the cruel neighbour was cast into prison, whence he never emerged.
The Pæony is another flower more admired in China than in Japan. The reason for this, if one regards the characteristics of the two races, is not far to seek. China is all for the rich outside, Japan for the delicate heart of things. China is magnificent, flamboyant, in her tastes; Japan’s are refined, subdued, fair without show, the most perfect in the world. The splendid and gorgeous reds and pinks and crimsons of the Azaleas and Pæonies are all very well for savages like the Chinese and myself; the Japanese will revel in the pearly half-tints, the mauves and dove colours of their Irises and Wistarias, the pale rosy clouds of their masses of Plum and Cherry.
The Pæony is called ‘the rich man’s flower.’ It is difficult and expensive of cultivation, even in the hands of an expert Chinese gardener, as I have found to my cost; and so ungraciously does it reward patience and care in its growing in Japan that it is ranked with the favours of princes. It is associated with lions and peacocks (both imported emblems) in the decoration of temples and palaces. It is, perhaps because of its fickleness, likened to a woman—and not to too good a woman either, for in their heart of hearts I am sure the Japanese regard her as a
