OKA AND MURASAKI. 193

him the gold he loved so dearly. But where could he safely keep
his gold, when he had it? He thought of a curious place at last.
Among his pickled vegetables was a vessel of radishes. These
were kept in a mixture of various things—salt, radish-juice, and
so on, which, in the course of time, evolves an abominable odor,
strong enough to knock a horse over, but not a miser. There, in
the dark bottom of the radish-vessel, the skinflint kept his gold.
It chanced, though, that a neighbor found out this precious fact.
Perhaps he was looking through a window at night that had not
been shut, and he saw Old Nipper—my name for him— making
a wry face, as he plunged his hand down among the radishes,
then showing a very happy face, as he fished up a shining piece
of gold. This neighbor—alas for the old pickle-dealer! went into
the shop during Nipper’s absence, and putting his hand into
the radish-dish left the radishes, but took the gold. What a face
the old pickle-dealer made now, when he examined his beloved
collection of radishes! He flew to Judge Oka and told the story.
What was to be done? Did the judge scratch his head, look
grave, and wonder, and then scratch again? If he did, something
came of the scratching, He summoned before him Nipper’s neigh-
bors, and afterwards locked the doors. Then he went from man
to man, and made them present their hands. What was the
judge up to? He was up to this—a smell; for he went from
man to man, and so came to a hand that carried the abominable
smell of the radishes. It was the hand of the thief, and he owned
up and received his deserts.”

The boys sougoe that Judge Oka was the “smartest judge out.”

“T ’gpose,” said Rick, “the Japanese have story-books, as well as
story-tellers.”

Oh yes; the Japanese are very literary, after their fashion.