"Fair lady, pardon me for addressing you without an introduction," said he, bowing politely. "You seem to be in need of ink. I have some here. You are quite welcome to make use of it."
Komachi was greatly delighted at receiving such a kind offer from a handsome and distinguished-looking man. She accepted his ink with many blushes and hearty thanks. She wrote her poem, and after reading it over carefully, handed it to one of her maids. Arihira asked to be allowed the privilege of reading the poem before it was hung on to a branch of the cherry-tree. She consented modestly, and he read it several times, praising it highly. Then he went aside, and taking a small slip of paper, wrote something on it very earnestly. He then returned to her, and handed her what he had written.
"Here is my poem, fair lady," he said, glancing at her with a significant but self-conscious look. "Of course there is no comparison between my poem and yours; but I earnestly hope that you will appreciate the spirit in which it was written."
She received the paper, and unsuspectingly looked over it, expecting to find some beautiful poem; but she was astonished to read an ardent
