[Illustration:  ROOF PROTECTED AGAINST STORMS BY STONES]

But perhaps the most remarkable thing about the non-material life of this village is the fact that it contains no fewer than 400 carved stones of a more or less religious character.  A few are Buddhist; some are memorials to priests or teachers; several bear that representation of a man and a woman facing one another (p. 265) which is one of the oldest mystic emblems; the majority are devoted apparently to the horse god.  Every man who loses a horse erects a stone.  There are two persons in the village who can carve these stones at a cost of about 2 yen.  Some stones which are painted red are dedicated to the fire god.  The 400 stones of which I am speaking do not include grave stones.  These are seen everywhere, many of them just by the wayside.  Nearly every family buries in its own ground.  Some burial places with stones of many forms dating back for a long period of years are extremely impressive.  At the Bon season the grass on every burying ground is carefully cut.

All the shop-keepers seem to own their own houses and all but three have some land.  There are three sake shops, two of which sell other things than sake, two general shops, two cake and sweet shops, two tobacco shops, a lantern shop and a barber.  There are eight carpenters, four stonecutters, five plasterers and wall builders, five woodcutters, two roof makers, two horse shoers, and in the winter a blacksmith. (The cost of putting on four shoes is 60 sen.) All these artisans own their own houses and all have land.

As to the health of the village there are two doctors who come every other day.  One was qualified at Chiba and the other at Sendai.  They make no charge for advice and the price of medicine is only 10 sen unless the materials are expensive.  I suppose they may receive presents.  They also probably have a piece of land.  There is no veterinary surgeon, but one is to be found in the village which composes the other half of the commune.

A physician who had been born in the village and was staying for a few days with the Buddhist priest who was my host, thought that 90 per cent. of the villagers ate no meat whatever and that only 50 or 60 per cent. ate fish, and then only ceremonially, that is at particular times in the year when it is the custom in Japan to eat fish.  The villagers who did eat meat or fish did not take it oftener than twice or thrice a month.  The canned meat and canned fish in the shops—­Japanese brands—­were used almost entirely for guests.  The doctor expressed the opinion of most Japanese that “people who do not eat meat are better tempered and can endure more.”  I have heard Japanese say that “foreigners are short-tempered because they eat so much meat.”

We spoke of the considerable consumption of pickles, highly salted or fermented.  For example, in the ordinary 25-sen bento (lunch) box there are three or four different kinds of pickles.  The doctor said that pickles were not only a means of taking salt and so appetisers to help the rice down, but digestives; fermented pickles supplied diastase which enabled the stomach to deal promptly with the large quantities of rice swallowed.