A Treasury of Japanese Folktales

Tuttle is pleased to publish this new bilingual edition of A Treasury of Japanese
Folktales. The stories and drawings in this book originally appeared in Old Tales of
Japan. That book, originally published in 1953, remained in print for many years
and was beloved by generations of children. This new edition features a Japanese
text by Yumi Matsunari and Yumi Yamaguchi. We hope that this will help to
introduce the book to a new generation of readers and serve as an inspiration for
young learners of Japanese and English.

Comments about this book

The “Old Tales of Japan” translated by Mrs. Yasuda bring back many endearing
memories of childhood to each and all of us in Japan. I hope that these tales we love
may be shared and enjoyed by our little friends of other countries.

— Her Imperial Highness Princess Chichibu

Here are old Japanese tales translated and delightfully retold for English-speaking
children by Mrs. Yasuda .... They will all find their way into the hearts of a new
generation of children.

— Elizabeth Gray Vining, Former tutor to the Crown Prince of Japan

In these delightful folk stories as told by the gifted author Yuri Yasuda, there are
revealed for our better understanding the old traditions and customs, the
aspirations and innermost feelings of the Japanese.

— Dr. Francis B. Sayer, Former U. S. Undersecretary of State

These old tales of Japan, charmingly recounted, especially for children … are just as
interesting and just as significant to grown ups .... I hope many children of other
nations will read these well-told tales ....

— Mrs. Joseph C. Grew, Wife of former American Ambassador to Japan

These are charming tales, most skillfully rendered. I recommend them warmly to
children of all ages and congratulate Mrs. Yasuda on her mastery of the English
language, so gracefully displayed in this volume.

— Lady Gascoigne, Wife of former British Ambassador to Japan

When my niece, Mrs. Yasuda, told me of her plan to publish these stories, I was
truly delighted, and encouraged her to complete the series. The book is fittingly
illustrated by pictures destined to help the child grasp the true import of the
stories.

— Count Makino, Former Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal to the Imperial Court of
Japan

The tales told in this book … are now retold here by Mrs. Yasuda with exquisiteness
.... They will be, I am sure, read by Western children with the same delight and
thrill as by the children of this country.

— Shinzo Koizumi, Advisor for the Education of the Crown Prince of Japan

With her extraordinary command of English and great love of children, no one could
have been better suited for the work than Mrs. Yasuda, and I know lovers of fairy
tales all over the world … will welcome her contribution to their collection.

— Mrs. Takakichi Aso, Daughter of Mr. Shigeru Yoshida, former Prime Minister
of Japan

Author’s preface

Children the world over love stories. In Japan too, countless children through the
ages have lifted expectant faces to their elders to hear them tell of a boy born from a
peach, or of a beautiful princess floating to the moon, or of a little sparrow, or of a
cunning badger. In 1946, when I first chose to tell Japanese tales to children of
foreign countries my sole desire was to help to form in a small way a rainbow of
understanding between our children’s world to those of others. For I think fairy
tales of all countries, though told in various ways, are always basically the same—-
they differ only in customs and manners. I have retold these tales in my own way—
just as they were told to me when I was a child—and I hope readers will be as
happy as I was in the quaint land of old Japan.

It remains for me to express my gratitude to Josephine B. Vaughan and
Dorothy W. Phillips for their kind help. Mrs. Vaughan has written several books on
Japan. Both have great sympathy with the Japanese. Their revision has been
invaluable to me. The faults that remain are my own.

— Yuri Yasuda



To my children, who have brought me great happiness,
and to my mother and her mother and all the mothers

who have passed these stories down to us.

— Yuri Yasuda

Published by Tuttle Publishing, an imprint of Periplus Editions (HK) Ltd.

www.tuttlepublishing.com

Copyright © 2010 by Periplus Editions (HK) Ltd.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilized in any form
or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any
information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the
publisher.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Yasuda, Yuri.
Treasury of Japanese Folktales / by Yuri Yasuda; Japanese translation by Yumi

Matsunari and Yumi Yamaguchi; illustrated by Yoshinobu Sakakura and Eiichi Mitsui.—
Bilingual ed.

v. cm.
An English/Japanese bilingual edition of “Old Tales of Japan,” published by Japan
Overseas Commercial Co., 1953.
Contents: Shitakiri Suzume (The Tongue-Cut Sparrow); Kintarō (The Strong Boy);
Nezumi No Yomeiri (The Marriage of a Mouse); Urashima Tarō (The Fisherman and The
Tortoise); Kaguya Hime (The Luminous Princess); Momotarō (The Peach Boy); Kachi
Kachi Yama (The Kachi Kachi Mountain); Kobutori Jiisan (The Old Men With Wens);
Hanasaka Jijii (The Old Man Who Made Trees Blossom); Issunbōshi (The One-Inch Boy);
Bunbuku Chagama (The Lucky Cauldron); Sarukani Kassen (The Monkey-and-Crab
Fight).
ISBN: 978-1-4629-1462-3 (ebook)
I. Tales—Japan. [1. Folklore—Japan. 2. Japanese language materials—Bilingual.] I.
Matsunari, Yumi.
II. Sakakura, Yoshinobu, ill. III. Mitsui, Eiichi, 1920- ill. IV. Yasuda, Yuri. Old Tales of
Japan. V. Title.
PZ49.41.Y37 2010
398.20952--dc22

2009047879

This edition is published by arrangement with Japan Overseas Commercial Co., Ltd.
Copyright in Japan by Yuri Yasuda. All rights reserved.

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CONTENTS

Shitakiri Suzume

したきりすずめ

(The Tongue-Cut Sparrow)
Kintarō

(The Strong Boy)
Nezumi No Yomeiri

ねずみのよめいり

(The Marriage of a Mouse)
Urashima Tarō

(The Fisherman and The Tortoise)
Kaguya Hime

(The Luminous Princess)
Momotarō

(The Peach Boy)
Kachi Kachi Yama

(The Kachi Kachi Mountain)
Kobutori Jiisan

こぶとりじいさん

(The Old Men With Wens)
Hanasaka Jijii

はなさかじじい

(The Old Man Who Made Trees Blossom)
Issunbōshi

(The One-Inch Boy)
Bunbuku Chagama

ぶんぶくちゃがま

(The Lucky Cauldron)
Sarukani Kassen

(The Monkey-and-Crab Fight)



Shitakiri Suzume (The Tongue-Cut

Sparrow)

ONE FINE DAY, a tiny brown sparrow slipped from a tree and broke
her wing.

It hurt her very much, and when she found she was unable to
fly away, she fluttered around on the ground and cried, “Oh, help
me someone! Please, help me!”

Just then, around the corner there came a kind old man with a
pointed white beard. He had been for a walk, and when he saw the
tiny brown sparrow, he stopped and picked her up.

The little bird sobbed and sobbed, “Chu chu chun chun.”

“Poor birdie,” said the kind old man, “I’ll take care of you.”

So the old man took the tiny brown sparrow to his home where
he lived with his wife, and nursed her tenderly. He made a pad for
the injured wing. Then he bandaged it carefully. Everyday he took
the bandage off, put some medicine on, and bound it up again.

It was not many days until the sparrow was able to fly around
the room. The old man called her Suzume-san, which means Miss
Sparrow, and the tiny sparrow called the old man Ojiisan, which
means Mr. Grandpa.

Suzume-san and Ojiisan grew to love each other dearly.

Suzume-san slept with Ojiisan. She ate out of his plate. They also
played games together. Their best game was hide-and-seek,
because Suzume-san found such wonderful places to hide in. Her
excited chirrups and Ojiisan’s chuckles were heard all over the
house.

Now the wife of Ojiisan was a jealous, selfish person. She did
not like Suzume-san because Ojiisan spent so much of his time
with her. He was so very happy when he was playing with Suzume-
san.

“Come Obāsan,” the two would call out to the old lady, “Come,
join us in this game!” But Obāsan only scowled and shut her paper
door with a bang. Ojiisan felt very sorry for her.

One day Ojiisan had to go on an errand. As he couldn’t take
Suzume-san with him, he left her with Obāsan.

“Be a good sparrow. Be quiet. Don’t trouble Obāsan,” said the
kind old man. “I’ll be home soon.”

Suzume-san felt very lonely. She hopped around Obāsan’s
corner, cocked her head on one side and tweeted softly. She looked
very winning but Obāsan paid no attention to her.

She was busy washing her clothes. After washing them, she
soaked them in starch and laid them out to dry. The starch was in
a bowl in the sun.

Suzume-san sighed a tiny sigh and fluttered toward the bowl. It
dazzled in the sun and looked very good, so she took a peck at it. It
tasted good! She took another peck and then another, and before
long the bowl was empty.

But just then Obāsan came rushing toward her and gave an
angry scream.

“You wicked creature! You’ve eaten my precious starch,” she
shouted and grabbed Suzume-san in her hands.

She felt the soft furry feathers and the frightened heart beating
hard. She heard her crying:—“Chun, chun, chun,” which meant,
“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry.” But do you know what the wicked woman
did?

She opened Suzume-san’s little beak, picked up a pair of
scissors and cut her tongue!

Oh how it hurt! Suzume-san gave a piteous cry and flew away,
over the roof toward the trees—and into the sky.

Obāsan followed her with a wicked look and smacked her lips.
“Now I’m rid of the silly little thing.”

And she went back to her work.

Presently Ojiisan came back.

“Tadaima,” he called, which means, “I’ve just returned.”

No Suzume-san fluttered out to greet him—only Obāsan who

was now quite happy.

But when Ojiisan heard the story he was very distressed. He
turned away without a word, and though he was tired he walked
out, through the meadow, over the hills and up a narrow path
where he thought he’d find Suzume-san.

And all the while he called—

“Shitakiri Suzume! Tongue-cut little sparrow! Where have you
gone? Where are you?”

Long afterwards he came to a big bamboo grove. Here he heard
many sparrows twittering, for a bamboo grove is a sparrow’s home.
Presently he did hear dear Suzume-san’s voice among a hundred
others.

“Ojiisan! Ojiisan! Here I am. Welcome to our home! Come along
up here.”

Everywhere he heard chirrupings of “Welcome! Welcome!
Welcome!”

Ojiisan was so happy. He found that Suzumesan was properly
cared for and that the cruel wound was cured. He met her father
and mother.

He saw hundreds of pretty birds dancing in beautiful kimonos.
Lovely music filled the air. He ate rare dainty food and drank good
wine that never came to an end. In all the rooms he saw precious
ornaments on the shelves and beautiful paintings on the walls.
Suzume-san’s home was very lovely.

At last it grew dark and Ojiisan said he had better say goodbye.
Immediately there appeared two large sparrows, one with a big
black wicker box and the other with a small one.

“A present for you, Ojiisan,” explained Suzumesan’s father.
“Choose whichever you like and take it home.”

Ojiisan looked at the big box—he looked at the small one. He
placed his two hands before him and made a deep low bow.

“Thank you for the lovely time, dear birdies of birdland. I have
enjoyed everything very much, I shall never forget all of you.
Thank you for the beautiful present that I will take home and
treasure as a remembrance. It is growing dark already and, as I
am an old man, I will take the smaller box.”

The sparrows smiled happily and Ojiisan, carrying the smaller
box on his back, bade many a farewell to them all as they waved

their tiny little wings. Suzume-san saw her guest to the gate.
“Sayonara, sayonara! Come again, come again, dear Ojiisan.”

Ojiisan was amazed at all he had seen. He rubbed his eyes
again and again. But he was more amazed when he reached home
and opened the box, for it was filled with many beautiful gifts—
jewelry of every kind, sparkling coins, rare materials, and oh, lots
and lots of other lovely things!

Of course Obāsan was very jealous. When she heard about
Ojiisan’s choice of the smaller box she grew very cross.

She wanted to have the big box for herself. So very early the
next morning she went out and walked fast through the meadow,
up the hill, until she reached the bamboo grove.

The birds twittered excitedly and hid themselves behind the
trees, but Obāsan rapped on Suzume-san’s gate and demanded to
be let in.

When she was admitted, she looked around curiously and was
fidgety the whole time, for she did not feel very comfortable.
Suzume-san in her fright had hidden away up in her room. But the
rest of the birds were polite and gave their guest good food to eat.

Obāsan however was in a hurry to carry off the box. She kept
looking for the presents. And when at last the two large sparrows
brought them, she grabbed the big box and said sayonara.

The big box was very heavy—so heavy that she could scarcely
walk properly. Before long, Obāsan was wet with perspiration and
was breathing hard. The roads were rough and sharp stones cut
through her straw sandals. She stumbled many times, but she
would not give up her heavy box.

“Oh dear, I can’t wait any longer. I’ll at least open the lid and
see what’s inside,” thought Obāsan. She sank on her knees and
placed the box in front of her and opened it.

Goodness, gracious me!

Green snakes with red tongues, spotted frogs, and grotesque
bogies arose. They put out their tongues and licked her. They
stretched out their wobbly arms and tried to hug her. They threw
sharp stones at her and laughed.

Their laughter sounded like this, “Gera—gera—gera—gera.”

Obāsan was terrified. She screamed for help. She tried to push
away the awful looking creatures. She was frantic with fright.

Now, the kind Ojiisan had come up the path in search for her.
He did not know she had gone to get the big box, but when he
heard her terrified cries he ran as fast as he could, and was
horrified to find old Obāsan struggling helplessly with the dirty
nasty creatures.

He pulled her up by the hands and together they ran down the
hillside, through the meadow to their home as fast as they could.

Ojiisan was quite out of breath by the time they reached home.

As for Obāsan, she sank down on the threshold and, with her
face buried in both hands, cried and cried and cried.

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m a wicked woman. I’m a
ne’er do well. How can you forgive me!”

Ojiisan smiled happily, for though he was out of breath and his
knees were shaking after pulling Obāsan down the hill, he knew

she was at last really sorry for being selfish and jealous and
greedy.

So Ojiisan forgave her, and you may be sure Obāsan did her
best. From that time on they lived happily ever after.

Oh, I must not forget to tell you that the next spring, Ojiisan
took Obāsan to Suzume-san’s home, where both of them were
treated equally well. All birds have sharp little eyes you know.













Kintarō (The Strong Boy)

ONCE THERE WAS A BIG BLACK BEAR that shambled around, and the
way he went was … Noso noso.

There also was a deer that went … Pyon Pyon.
And a monkey … Choko Choko.
And a rabbit … Pyoko Pyoko.
They all lived together in a peaceful wood high up in the hills.
One day as they were basking in the sun and feeling very
content, they heard another sound … Peta Peta Peta Peta.
It was a faint but firm sound of bare feet on soft ground, but
they all looked up surprised, for they had never heard the like
before.
“Shall we run?” squeaked Saru, the monkey, getting red in the
face.
“Nonsense!” growled Kuma, the bear. “I’ll see that no harm
comes to you.”

All at once, a little brown boy with thick black hair and
sparkling eyes burst through the bushes. His cheeks were round
and rosy and in his chubby hands he held an axe.

Kuma looked up and growled loudly. He expected the boy to cry
and run—but he just stood there and smiled and walked forward
as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Kuma growled again. He shambled forward Noso Noso—and
stood up and caught hold of the little boy with his two big paws.
This was the bear’s great big hug, but oh my, what astonishing
strength this little boy had! There are no words to tell it. In a few
minutes Kuma was thrown down on the ground. It did not hurt the
dear old bear, but it hurt his dignity very much.

Kuma looked up angrily and snarled, but the strong boy just
stood there with a friendly smile on his face. Kuma plumped down

again feeling very weak. He thought he might as well control
himself and be friendly with this amazing little boy.

So he bowed awkwardly many times. And of course Shika the
deer, and Saru the monkey, and Usagi the rabbit, all did so too.
After that they were the best of friends.

This strong boy was Kintarō of the Ashigara Mountains. His
mother, a beautiful woman who loved him very much, had brought
him here when he was a tiny baby, and they lived a secluded life
together. And what a happy and natural free life this was.

Very soon the strong boy, Kintarō, learned the ways of his forest
friends. Best of all he loved Kuma, the big black shambling bear.
He learned to be gentle to timid little Usagi the rabbit. He learned
to be fleet on his feet as Shika the deer and as nimble as Saru the
monkey.

Early on a warm sunny day, Kintarō opened his eyes and,
grabbing hold of his axe, jumped out of doors. There was a no-
smell-at-all kind of a smell in the air—such as there is when the

warm sun is beaming down on you from a very blue sky. It was so
pleasant and exciting that Kintarō skipped up and down and
shouted “Oooi! Oooi!” at the top of his voice.

Out tumbled Kuma the bear, Shika the deer, Usagi the rabbit,
and Saru the monkey to greet him. Then up jumped Kintarō on
Kuma’s soft broad back.

“We’ll have a big wrestling match today,” he announced.
In Japan, Sumō wrestling matches fought by big fat men are
very exciting. People shout and cheer. Some even throw their
cushions and coats at the wrestlers in their excitement.
The Sumō match which took place up in the hills was just as
exciting to the many forest animals who came to look on.
“Hakke yoi nokotta nokotta!” shouted Kintarō, acting as referee.

After all the animals had taken part in the wrestling, came the
most exciting match of all—the fight between Kintarō and Kuma.

All Japanese boys are proud of Kintarō. On Boy’s Festival Day
they decorate Kintarō dolls overthrowing the bear. We have
Kintarō toys and Kintarō picture books.

And here I have a nice picture of him for you. From the picture
you can be sure that Kintarō won the match. But he had a very fine
way of making the loser feel comfortable, so the party broke up in
merry fashion.

Now on their way home Kintarō and his friends wandered far

into the woods. When they finally came to a spot which they knew,
they found themselves on the other side of a deep canyon with no
bridge.

“Oya oya, dear me!” panted the stout bear.
Saru the monkey scratched his head. Shika the deer sat down.
Usagi the rabbit sat on his hind legs and looked very tired.

Near them grew a tall solitary pine tree. It was a very strong
old tree. Kintarō leaned against its trunk and pushed and pushed
until his little brown body was all red. The tree creaked and
groaned and groaned and creaked. It leaned farther and farther
toward the other side of the cliff, until with a crash it landed at full

length across the canyon.

Proudly Kintarō led the way over. How relieved his animal
friends were—and how lovingly they looked at the strong boy!

But someone else saw what Kintarō had done and was amazed
at the strength of the boy. He was a traveler on his way to the
capital. He was going to see the powerful Lord Raikō.

The traveler could not utter a word for fear of frightening the
animals away, but he followed them at a distance. At last he saw
the boy run toward his little mountain hut—wave goodbye to each
of his friends, and give his mother a sunny smile.

Then the traveler decided to talk with Kintarō’s mother. His
idea was to take the strong boy with him to his master, the great
Raikō.

How nice it would have been if Kintarō was able to stay up in
the hills with all his animal friends. But then nobody would have
known how strong he was.

Instead of that he was taken by the traveler to the big city of
Kyōto, which was then the capital of Japan. Here he served the
great lord Raikō and, because of his bravery and goodness, became
one of Japan’s best-known heroes.

Perhaps some day you will read other stories of Kintarō, for
there are many, but this is the only one of him as a boy. Goodbye!







Nezumi No Yomeiri (The Marriage of a

Mouse)

OTŌSAN AND OKAŌSAN NEZUMI, which means Father and Mother
Mouse, lived in a storehouse in Japan. They possessed rice and
were very rich.

They were also very proud of their beautiful daughter, and no
wonder, for she was white and soft and furry all over. She had
bright glistening eyes and the most delicate pink nose. She looked
so sweet and pretty in a mousy way that young male mice from
near and far came to ask for her hand.

But her parents Otōsan and Okāsan Nezumi were not satisfied
to have a clumsy ordinary mouse as her husband.

“That can’t be—no ordinary fellow is worthy of our beautiful
daughter,” they cried. “We must think of someone special. We’ll
give her to the most powerful person in Japan.”

So they looked around and lo, up in the sky they saw the warm,
kind sun beaming down on them!

“Why not the all-powerful sun?” they cried, delighted at the
idea.

So they dressed their daughter in her bridal attire. Never was
there such a desirable and beautiful mouse-bride as she.

Now I don’t know how they did it, but the three traveled and
traveled and at last reached the sun.

The father, bowing low, said: “Gracious and kind sun, you are
the most powerful person on earth. Behold our daughter—whom
we wish to give to you as your bride.”

The sun continued smiling down on them, and he said: “You are
kind, and I am thankful to you for your proposal, but I am not the
most powerful being on earth. There is someone else.”

Otōsan and Okāsan Nezumi were surprised: “Who can this be?”

“It is Kumo, the cloud. I would like to beam and beam on the
earth and make it warm, but when the cloud comes out I am
helpless.”

“Well, well,” said Otōsan and Okāsan Nezumi, staring at each
other, “Naruhodo, it is so—it is so!”

So they bowed and, taking their daughter, visited the cloud.

“Kumo-san, Kumo-san. You are the most powerful being on this
earth. Please take our daughter as your bride.”

“Thank you for thinking of me,” replied the cloud, “but there is
someone more powerful than I. I am quite sure of myself until
Kaze, the wind, comes. Then I am blown into little bits.”

“Naruhodo—quite true, quite true,” cried Otōsan and Okāsan
Nezumi.

They then took their daughter to Kaze, the wind.

“Kaze-san, Kaze-san. You are the most powerful person in
Japan. We have brought our daughter for your bride.”

“Thank you, dear Otōsan and Okāsan Nezumi,” replied the
wind, “but I am not the most powerful. I blow and blow but when I
come across a strong wall I can do nothing.”

“Oh dear, that’s quite true,” cried the parent mice in despair.
“We had better visit the wall.”

Well, they took their daughter to the wall and asked him to
take their daughter as his bride.

“Thanks,” was the reply, “but there is someone else. I try to be
hard and square, but when Nezumi, the mouse, nibbles at me, I am
helpless. Holes grow in me.”

By this time the poor daughter was so tired that her fine
whiskers trembled, and her eyes filled with tears.

“Dear Otōsan and Okāsan, I would rather be the bride of our
neighbor, Chūsuke, though he is just a common mouse.”

But the parents had changed their minds.

“Indeed no! He is no common mouse. Only a few days ago he
gnawed a big hole through Kabe-san, the wall. Why he is the most
powerful person in Japan!”

And they were so proud of Chūsuke, the common mouse living
next door, that they gave their beautiful daughter to him as his
bride.

They had a wonderful wedding and the young bride and
bridegroom lived happily ever after.

They took good care of Otōsan and Okāsan Nezumi. They also
had many children, and their family grew and prospered.







Urashima Tarō (The Fisherman and The

Tortoise)

URASHIMA TARŌ was a poor fisherman. But he was good and kind
and young.

One day, with a fishing rod on his shoulder and a few cents in
his pouch, he started out to the sea to catch some fish. Near his
boat, by the lapping waves, he saw a group of young village
children.

They had caught a tortoise and had tied it up with a piece of
string. They were pulling it along and some were throwing stones
at it and laughing and shouting.

The poor tortoise was struggling to get away. Sometimes it
would hide in its shell, but the children would then pull its legs out
and drag it along again.

The kindhearted Urashima ran toward them crying, “Hey there
—you children! Don’t tease that poor little thing. Leave it alone.”

But they only laughed and behaved rudely. “What’s that you
say fisherman? We caught this beast. It’s ours—see? Leave it alone
—indeed! You had better leave us alone!”

Urashima took out of his pouch the only few cents he had and,
seeing the greedy looks on the children’s faces, asked for the
tortoise in exchange.

The little tormentors were only too glad to get the money and,
grabbing it, they ran away leaving the tortoise still tied up cruelly.

Urashima untied the dirty string that was around the tortoise’s
legs and, stroking its hard shell, gently said, “Don’t get caught
again, my little friend. Run back to your home.”

The tortoise turned its bright beady little eyes this way and
that and, nodding gratefully, scuttled away toward the rocks.

A few days later, Urashima was fishing far out at sea when

suddenly he noticed a little brown wet head nosing his boat. There
he saw his friend the tortoise.

“Urashima-san, Urashima-san! Thank you for your kindness to
me the other day,” he said. “I have come to take you to Ryūgū,
which is a wonderful place deep down under the sea.”

Urashima thanked the tortoise and was astonished to see him
grow larger and larger until he was almost the size of the boat.

“See how big I can grow!” he cried. “Sit astride my back,
Urashima-san, and I’ll take you there.”

So Urashima, anxious to see Ryūgū and full of excitement,
settled himself on the tortoise’s back.

Ryūgū, which means “Dragon Palace,” was a wonderful place in
the depths of the sea. Urashima had heard of it, but nobody he
knew had ever been there. So you can imagine how pleased and
happy he was to be able to go. He had heard also that a beautiful
princess who never grew old lived there.

The tortoise swam on and on, then plunged deeper and deeper
into the sea.

Urashima saw weird-looking grass waving this way and that.
Fish that he had never seen before darted in and out. When he
came near the palace, yet other kinds of fish came to greet him.
Then he saw, from the entrance facing him, rows of pretty sea
animals holding lanterns to greet him.

The palace was like a dream palace. It was a wonderful
building. The magnificence of it quite took Urashima’s breath
away.

The tortoise swam through the rows of lanterns up to the

entrance to the great portals opened wide. But Urashima’s eyes
were fixed in wonder on the beautiful princess standing there to
greet him.

There she was, erect and slender. Her glistening black hair was
beautifully drawn up on her head. Her dress was made of a
material unknown to Urashima. It looked soft and shimmery and
floated in graceful lines around her. She was indeed lovely beyond
words!

She held out her hand graciously and smiling, said in a sweet
voice: “Dear Urashima, you have been so kind to my tortoise.

Thank you, Urashima. Wouldn’t you like to come into my palace
and spend some time with me?”

Urashima felt so happy. His heart was beating fast. He had
hosts of fish servants to wait on him. In his room, a beautiful suit
lay ready for him to put on. After a short time, the poor fisherman
emerged a handsome young man.

The princess was waiting for him. She took him to the great
banquet hall and showed him all the wonders of sea life. He had
everything that he wanted—delicious food—clothes—a bevy of
servants.

And the sea-folk entertained him so well that Urashima had no
idea how fast time was going. He spent day after day entranced by
the beauty of his hostess. Month after month and year after year
slipped by.

But Urashima never forgot his home or his friends or his dear
country. There came a time when a shadow would cross his face
when he was thinking of them—and the princess, who was quick to
see all that went on, noticed it and asked him what it was that
made him look sad.

“Ah dear princess—I am thinking of my old friends and my
home!” said Urashima in a low voice. “I cannot forget them—and
often I think it is time for me to bid you farewell.”

It was hard for Urashima to leave the beautiful princess, but
she gave him a sweet smile and said simply: “I understand,
Urashima. You are lonely away from the people of the upper world.

It is better for you to return to them.”

So Urashima bowed gratefully and went into his room, where
he pulled out his old fisherman’s clothes. The way they looked and
their smell made him long all the more for the upper world, so
changing into them he quickly went to the princess to thank her
and bid her farewell.

She received him graciously and in her hands held out a black
lacquer box, saying, “Urashima, I give you this box. You must carry
it wherever you go. It will prove to be a great treasure. But never
open it—never, never open it.”

Urashima looked up at the princess and he saw an expression of
regret cross her sweet face. His heart was heavy with sorrow at
parting from her, but he could not help doing so.

He bowed silently, and walked away toward the faithful tortoise
who was to take him back to his home.

So Urashima left Ryūgū, miles and miles down in the sea, and
came back to his native land. Seeing familiar scenery, with a happy
laugh he jumped off the tortoise who silently took his leave. Then
holding the pretty lacquer box under his arm he ran toward his
house. How eager and glad he was to be home!

But alas! What had happened to it?

It was deserted! The thatched roof had fallen in. Heavy green
grass grew around it. Cobwebs and dust had gathered everywhere.
Urashima was dismayed! He wandered away to other houses, but
everywhere he went he saw strange streets and houses and
unfamiliar faces. All his relatives and friends had disappeared.
Everybody looked at him curiously and laughed at his old
fashioned fisherman’s dress.