『Much may be said in favour of him who cultivates plants.
The man of the pot is far more humane than he of the scissors.
We watch with delight his concern about water and sunshine, his freuds with parasites, his horror of frosts, his anxietry when the buds come slowly, his raputure when the leaves atｔain their lustre.
In the East the art of floriculture is a very ancient one, and the loves of a poet and his favporite plant have often been recorded in story and song.
With the development of ceramics during the Tang and Sung dynasties we hear of wonderful receptacles made to hold plants, not pots, but jewelled palaces.
A special attendant was detailed to wait upon each flower and to wash its leaves with soft brushes made of rabbit hair.
It has been written that the peony shuld be bathed by a handsome maiden in full costume, that a winter-plum should be watered by a pale, slender monk.
In Japan, one of the most popular of the No-dances, the Hachinoki, composed during the Ashikaga peiod, is based upon the story of an impoverished knight, who, on a freezing night, in lack of fuel for a fire, cuts his cherished plants in order to entertain a wandering friar.
The friar is in reality no other than Hojo-Tokiyori, the Haroun-Al-Raschid of our tales, and the sacrifice is not without its reward.
This opera never fails to draw tears from a Tokio audience even toay.』
(From the Book of Tea, Flowers, pp.95-96, Charles E. Tuttle Co., Rutland, Vermont, Tokyo, Japan)
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