University of Virginia Library

The Old Jinrikisha [1st installment]
Conkey's Home Journal 6.5 (February 1, 1900): 1-2.
By Onoto Watanna
Drawing by John C. Gilbert

Now, before I begin to tell you about the people who have ridden in me, I would like to say a few little things about myself. Of course, I understand that you would far rather hear about people than me, for that is natural, to wish first of all, to hear of your kind, but please remember that I have that same feeling. I am far more interested in jinrikishas[1] than I am in people, so you can understand somewhat of my unselfishness, when I propose, after only a few words about myself, to confine myself almost entirely to telling you about those happy or hapless mortals in whose lives I have played my part.

I always was an inquisitive jinrikisha. I remember when I was being made, one of the workmen, or, as I sometimes like to call them, one of my creators, remarked, after he had padded me with the softest of rice straw and matting, that I was as soft and pliable to the touch as a pretty woman. So my sex was set. This may account in a measure for a foolish soft- heartedness I am sure you will learn to notice in me, and also the inquisitiveness and contrariness of my nature, liking and disliking people just—because. Mind you, not that I would lay these failings or virtues at the door of the weaker sex. By no means. I am merely speaking from a human standpoint, for I have noticed that whenever these traits are shown in any one, there is always somebody ready to say, “Just like a woman!” though for my part I do think men are just as weak, inquisitive, and contrary as women any day. But how I do chatter! I meant to tell you a little of my own history.

Well, in the first place, I was born, or built, in the city of Tokyo. I was, in fact, one of the first vehicles built by the celebrated Akiba Daisuke, who introduced the vehicle into Japan, although I don't think he was really the inventor. That question was never settled. Some day that Takayama Kasuke and two others invented it somewhere in 1869, but, on the other hand, an American missionary also claimed the honor. However this may be, Akiba Daisuke was the first to start a regular business and manufactory of the same.

Until quite recently I was looked upon with great contempt and disdain by those who chanced to come in contact with me, on account of my old-fashioned and antiquated appearance, they much referring the new-fangled, giddy, springy things that have tried their best to push my nose out of joint. So I was thrown in a deserted, unused store-room, where I could get hardly a breath of the sweet, fresh air, and only a stray gleam of sunlight. There, right in front of this store-room stood a public jinrikisha stand, where any number of the new-fashioned common wood and bamboo things were resting brazenly in the sun! I was very, very lonesome, though once in a while some apple-faced, rosy children ran through the lumber room, and climbed into my heart and played with me for hours. Children always did love me. They used to beg the man who owned me to “Please draw this funny old rickshaw outside for them,” and I believe it was in answer to their little prayers and entreaties that the great Sun-Goddess one day shook the ground with terrific force all about us, and knocked the old lumber house into ruins. I never could tell how it happened, but after the earthquake had passed, and when the runners were busy clearing out the goods from under the pile of debris, they found me in a safe little nook and hollow that some stray boards had built about me, with scarcely a scratch to my back. They pulled me out, and for a time I was set standing a little apart from the ruins, my master being undecided as to what he would do with me. Now, it happened that soon after this one of the great lords in the train of our beloved emperor chanced to be passing through this portion of the city.

He rode past me at first, with merely a wondering glance of interest at my ancient appearance. I noticed, however, that he rode very slowly, and just as he reached the bend in the road, he turned his horse's head, and back he came trotting down the street. For some time he stood looking at me critically from where he sat on his beautiful white horse. Then he dismounted, and began examining me through a pair of glasses, curiously at first, and then enthusiastically. He began feeling me all over, although I was very dusty. He even took his handkerchief out and rubbed some of the dirt off my back. I think he was looking for a crest. He must have found it, and, perhaps, several other interesting things about me, for he went through all the antics of a connoisseur before a rare piece of an old and almost forgotten art. Anyhow, I think he was so thoroughly delighted with me that he gave my master three hundred yen, and ordered me carried with great care to his castle.

I can tell you I was glad, though. My master had neglected and treated me shamefully. I had become sour and cynical, and even felt I was falling to decay. Of course, I was well aware that by ill-usage, and through being out in all kinds of weather, I had become so matted with dirt and crusted with old age, wrinkles, and cracks, that it would have been impossible for any one to tell of what material I was made, to say nothing of a severe stroke of lightning that had blistered one of my sides. Still, I hold that any one who knew the genuine from the sham and could tell gold from brass, ought to have recognized my caste in spite of all odds against me. And yet for many years I was used merely as a common old and cheap vehicle in a public jinrikisha stand.

However, I was taken by my new master to his castle, cleaned and polished with the greatest care, and pampered and petted till I scarcely knew myself. I soon became happy again and at peace with all the world. I suppose I ought to stop right here, but I do want to tell you something else about myself, though I feel a trifle shy in this regard.

It sounds so vain (and womanish, you would say), for me to say I am handsome, in spite of age and sorrows. But it is true, and, furthermore, I will add to this, that once I was beautiful; a sweet, dainty little princess who rode in me, pronounced me exquisite. My body is lacquered black, yellow, crimson, and green, and adorned with beautifully colored representations of famous sceneries, warriors, actors, women, birds, fish, beasts, and arabesques. In a corner of my back is my original owner's name and address. He was one of the most powerful samurai in his day, but of him, his family and their fate, I will tell you later. In the very center of my back you will find his crest, painted in gold, and that alone ought to be sufficient for you to know whether or not I was of importance in my day. I am padded with the finest rice straw and matting and silk, and the satin that covers the padding is so heavily embroidered that you can scarcely find a spot of the original plain surface of silk. I admit sadly that all the polishing and remodeling in my lacquered body, all the darning and mending to my cushions and inner padding that my new and kind master has given me, can never restore the original splendor to my appearance, never mend the heart- breaking cracks in the lacquer; yet the new lining and the calash-top, which are of the finest material, are, in a measure, a consolation, and certainly not to be despised. Besides, as my new master would say, I have a history, I have seen life, I am old, and in Japan, “blessed are the old.” So, though for many years I have been cast aside, neglected and mistreated as a good- for-nought by the common and ignorant, I am once more restored to my original luxury in surroundings and associates, which in every way comport with my aristocratic birth and relations of the past. I have met with severe reverses in my day, and had to be used in menial capacities even, but I still hold that my birth, and the fact of the greatness of my first master, entitle me to set myself down as being among the few really fine and rare things of the world.

And, like most old people, I at times become reminiscent. I love to dwell on memories of the past. It will be satisfaction to me to prattle of some of the little comedies and tragedies that I have been a silent, though sympathetic and appreciative witness of. And so I crave your honorable august attention.