Part 3

This would appear to be the oldest Japanese record of an insect-hunt,--though the amusement may have been invented earlier than the period of Kaho. By the seventeenth century it seems to have become a popular diversion; and night-hunts were in vogue as much as day-hunts. In the _Teikoku Bunshū_, or collected works of the poet Teikoku, who died during the second year of Shōwō (1653), there has been preserved one of the poet’s letters which contains a very interesting passage on the subject. “Let us go insect-hunting this evening,”--writes the poet to his friend. “It is true that the night will be very dark, since there is no moon; and it may seem dangerous to go out. But there are many people now going to the graveyards every night, because the Bon festival is approaching[5];--therefore the way to the fields will not be lonesome for us. I have prepared many lanterns;--so the _hata-ori_, _matsumushi_, and other insects will probably come to the lanterns in great number.”

* * * * *

It would also seem that the trade of insect-seller (_mushiya_) existed in the seventeenth century; for in a diary of that time, known as the Diary of Kikaku, the writer speaks of his disappointment at not finding any insect-dealers in Yedo,--tolerably good evidence that he had met such persons elsewhere. “On the thirteenth day of the sixth month of the fourth year of Teikyo [1687], I went out,” he writes, “to look for _kirigirisu_-sellers. I searched for them in Yotsuya, in Kōjimachi, in Hongō, in Yushimasa, and in both divisions of Kanda-Sudamachō[6]; but I found none.”

As we shall presently see, the _kirigirisu_ was not sold in Tōkyō until about one hundred and twenty years later.

* * * * *

But long before it became the fashion to keep singing-insects, their music had been celebrated by poets as one of the æsthetic pleasures of the autumn. There are charming references to singing-insects in poetical collections made during the tenth century, and doubtless containing many compositions of a yet earlier period. And just as places famous for cherry, plum, or other blossoming trees, are still regularly visited every year by thousands and tens of thousands, merely for the delight of seeing the flowers in their seasons,--so in ancient times city-dwellers made autumn excursions to country-districts simply for the pleasure of hearing the chirruping choruses of crickets and of locusts,--the night-singers especially. Centuries ago places were noted as pleasure-resorts solely because of this melodious attraction;--such were Musashino (now Tōkyō), Yatano in the province of Echizen, and Mano in the province of Ōmi. Somewhat later, probably, people discovered that each of the principal species of singing-insects haunted by preference some particular locality, where its peculiar chanting could be heard to the best advantage; and eventually no less than eleven places became famous throughout Japan for different kinds of insect-music.

The best places to hear the _matsumushi_ were:--

(1) Arashiyama, near Kyōto, in the province of Yamashiro; (2) Sumiyoshi, in the province of Settsu; (3) Miyagino, in the province of Mutsu.

The best places to hear the _suzumushi_ were:--

(4) Kagura-ga-Oka, in Yamashiro; (5) Ogura-yama, in Yamashiro; (6) Suzuka-yama, in Isé; (7) Narumi, in Owari.

The best places to hear the _kirigirisu_ were:--

(8) Sagano, in Yamashiro; (9) Takeda-no-Sato, in Yamashiro; (10) Tatsuta-yama, in Yamato; (11) Ono-no-Shinowara, in Ōmi.

* * * * *

Afterwards, when the breeding and sale of singing-insects became a lucrative industry, the custom of going into the country to hear them gradually went out of fashion. But even to-day city-dwellers, when giving a party, will sometimes place cages of singing-insects among the garden-shrubbery, so that the guests may enjoy not only the music of the little creatures, but also those memories or sensations of rural peace which such music evokes.

III

The regular trade in musical insects is of comparatively modern origin. In Tōkyō its beginnings date back only to the Kwansei era (1789-1800),--at which period, however, the capital of the Shōgunate was still called Yedo. A complete history of the business was recently placed in my hands,--a history partly compiled from old documents, and partly from traditions preserved in the families of several noted insect-merchants of the present day.

* * * * *

The founder of the Tōkyō trade was an itinerant foodseller named Chūzō, originally from Echigo, who settled in the Kanda district of the city in the latter part of the eighteenth century. One day, while making his usual rounds, it occurred to him to capture a few of the _suzumushi_, or bell-insects, then very plentiful in the Negishi quarter, and to try the experiment of feeding them at home. They throve and made music in confinement; and several of Chūzō’s neighbors, charmed by their melodious chirruping, asked to be supplied with _suzumushi_ for a consideration. From this accidental beginning, the demand for _suzumushi_ grew rapidly to such proportions that the foodseller at last decided to give up his former calling and to become an insect-seller.

Chūzō only caught and sold insects: he never imagined that it would be more profitable to breed them. But the fact was presently discovered by one of his customers,--a man named Kirayama, then in the service of the Lord Aoyama Shimodzuké-no-Kami. Kiriyama had bought from Chūzō several _suzumushi_, which were kept and fed in a jar half-filled with moist clay. They died in the cold season; but during the following summer Kiriyama was agreeably surprised to find the jar newly peopled with a number of young ones, evidently born from eggs which the first prisoners had left in the clay. He fed them carefully, and soon had the pleasure, my chronicler says, of hearing them “begin to sing in small voices.” Then he resolved to make some experiments; and, aided by Chūzō, who furnished the males and females, he succeeded in breeding not only _suzumushi_, but three other kinds of singing-insects also,--_kantan_, _matsumushi_, and _kutsuwamushi_. He discovered, at the same time, that, by keeping his jars in a warm room, the insects could be hatched considerably in advance of the natural season. Chūzō sold for Kiriyama these home-bred singers; and both men found the new undertaking profitable beyond expectation.

The example set by Kiriyama was imitated by a _tabiya_, or stocking-maker named Yasubei (commonly known as Tabiya Yasubei by reason of his calling), who lived in Kanda-ku. Yasubei likewise made careful study of the habits of singing-insects, with a view to their breeding and nourishment; and he soon found himself able to carry on a small trade in them. Up to that time the insects sold in Yedo would seem to have been kept in jars or boxes: Yasubei conceived the idea of having special cages manufactured for them. A man named Kondō, vassal to the Lord Kamei of Honjō-ku, interested himself in the matter, and made a number of pretty little cages which delighted Yasubei, and secured a large order from him. The new invention found public favor at once; and Kondō soon afterwards established the first manufactory of insect-cages.

The demand for singing-insects increased from this time so rapidly, that Chūzō soon found it impossible to supply all his would-be customers directly. He therefore decided to change his business to wholesale trade, and to sell to retail dealers only. To meet orders, he purchased largely from peasants in the suburbs and elsewhere. Many persons were employed by him; and Yasubei and others paid him a fixed annual sum for sundry rights and privileges.

Some time after this Yasubei became the first itinerant-vendor of singing-insects. He walked through the streets crying his wares; but hired a number of servants to carry the cages. Tradition says that while going his rounds he used to wear a _katabira_[7] made of a much-esteemed silk stuff called _sukiya_, together with a fine Hakata-girdle; and that this elegant way of dressing proved of much service to him in his business.

Two men, whose names have been preserved, soon entered into competition with Yasubei. The first was Yasakura Yasuzō, of Honjō-ku, by previous occupation a _sahainin_, or property-agent. He prospered, and became widely known as Mushi-Yasu,--“Yasu-the-Insect-Man.” His success encouraged a former fellow-_sahainin_, Genbei of Uyeno, to go into the same trade. Genbei likewise found insect-selling a lucrative occupation, and earned for himself the sobriquet of Mushi-Gen, by which he is yet remembered. His descendants in Tōkyō to-day are _amé_[8]-manufacturers; but they still carry on the hereditary insect-business during the summer and autumn months; and one of the firm was kind enough to furnish me with many of the facts recorded in this little essay.

Chūzō, the father and founder of all this curious commerce, died without children; and sometime in the period of Bunsei (1818-1829) his business was taken over by a distant relative named Yamasaki Seïchirō. To Chūzō’s business, Yamasaki joined his own,--that of a toy-merchant. About the same time a law was passed limiting the number of insect-dealers in the municipality to thirty-six. The thirty-six then formed themselves into a guild, called the Ōyama-Kō (“Ōyama Society”), having for patron the divinity Sekison-Sama of the mountain Ōyama in Sagami Province.[9] But in business the association was known as the Yedō-Mushi-Kō, or Yedo Insect-Company.

It is not until after this consolidation of the trade that we hear of the _kirigirisu_,--the same musical insect which the poet Kikaku had vainly tried to buy in the city in 1687,--being sold in Yedo. One of the guild known as Mushiya Kojirō (“Kojirō the Insect-Merchant”), who did business in Honjō-Ku, returning to the city after a short visit to his native place in Kadzusa, brought back with him a number of _kirigirisu_, which he sold at a good profit. Although long famous elsewhere, these insects had never before been sold in Yedo.

“When Midzu Echizen-no-Kami,” says the chronicle, “became _machi-bugyō_ (or chief magistrate) of Yedo, the law limiting the number of insect-dealers to thirty-six, was abolished.” Whether the guild was subsequently dissolved the chronicle fails to mention.

Kiriyama, the first to breed singing-insects artificially, had, like Chūzō, built up a prosperous trade. He left a son, Kaméjirō, who was adopted into the family of one Yumoto, living in Waséda, Ushigomé-ku. Kaméjirō brought with him to the Yumoto family the valuable secrets of his father’s occupation; and the Yumoto family is still celebrated in the business of insect breeding.

To-day the greatest insect-merchant in Tōkyō is said to be Kawasumi Kanésaburō, of Samon-chō in Yotsuya-ku. A majority of the lesser dealers obtain their autumn stock from him. But the insects bred artificially, and sold in summer, are mostly furnished by the Yumoto house. Other noted dealers are Mushi-Sei, of Shitaya-ku, and Mushi-Toku, of Asakusa. These buy insects caught in the country, and brought to the city by the peasants. The wholesale dealers supply both insects and cages to multitudes of itinerant vendors who do business in the neighborhood of the parish-temples during the _en-nichi_, or religious festivals,--especially after dark. Almost every night of the year there are _en-nichi_ in some quarter of the capital; and the insect-sellers are rarely idle during the summer and autumn months.

* * * * *

Perhaps the following list of current Tōkyō prices[10] for singing-insects may interest the reader:--

Suzumushi 3 sen 5 rin, to 4 sen. Matsumushi 4 „ 5 „ Kantan 10 „ 12 „ Kin-hibari 10 „ 12 „ Kusa-hibari 10 „ 12 „ Kuro-hibari 8 „ 12 „ Kutsuwamushi 10 „ 15 „ Yamato-suzu 8 „ 12 „ Kirigirisu 12 „ 15 „ Emma-kōrogi 5 „ Kanétataki 12 „ Umaoi 10 „

These prices, however, rule only during the busy period of the insect trade. In May and the latter part of June the prices are high,--for only artificially bred insects are then in the market. In July _kirigirisu_ brought from the country will sell as low as one sen. The _kantan_, _kusa-hibari_, and _Yamato-suzu_ sell sometimes as low as two sen. In August the _Emma-kōrogi_ can be bought even at the rate of ten for one sen; and in September the _kuro-hibari_, _kanétataki_, and _umaoi_ sell for one or one and a half sen each. But there is little variation at any season in the prices of _suzumushi_ and of _matsumushi_. These are never very dear, but never sell at less than three sen; and there is always a demand for them. The _suzumushi_ is the most popular of all; and the greater part of the profits annually made in the insect-trade is said to be gained on the sale of this insect.

IV

As will be seen from the foregoing price-list, twelve varieties of musical insects are sold in Tōkyō. Nine can be artificially bred,--namely the _suzumushi_, _matsumushi_, _kirigirisu_, _kantan_, _kutsuwamushi_, _Emma-kōrogi_, _kin-hibari_, _kusa-hibari_ (also called _Asa-suzu_), and the _Yamato-suzu_, or _Yoshino-suzu_. Three varieties, I am told, are not bred for sale, but captured for the market: these are the _kanétataki_, _umaoi_ or _hataori_, and _kuro-hibari_. But a considerable number of all the insects annually offered for sale, are caught in their native haunts.

The night-singers are, with few exceptions, easily taken. They are captured with the help of lanterns. Being quickly attracted by light, they approach the lanterns; and when near enough to be observed, they can readily be covered with nets or little baskets. Males and females are usually secured at the same time, for the creatures move about in couples. Only the males sing; but a certain number of females are always taken for breeding purposes. Males and females are kept in the same vessel only for breeding: they are never left together in a cage, because the male ceases to sing when thus mated, and will die in a short time after pairing.

The breeding pairs are kept in jars or other earthen vessels half-filled with moistened clay, and are supplied every day with fresh food. They do not live long: the male dies first, and the female survives only until her eggs have been laid. The young insects hatched from them, shed their skin in about forty days from birth, after which they grow more rapidly, and soon attain their full development. In their natural state these creatures are hatched a little before the Doyō, or Period of Greatest Heat by the old calendar,--that is to say, about the middle of July;--and they begin to sing in October. But when bred in a warm room, they are hatched early in April; and, with careful feeding, they can be offered for sale before the end of May. When very young, their food is triturated and spread for them upon a smooth piece of wood; but the adults are usually furnished with unprepared food,--consisting of parings of egg-plant, melon-rind, cucumber-rind, or the soft interior parts of the white onion. Some insects, however, are specially nourished;--the _abura-kirigirisu_, for example, being fed with sugar-water and slices of musk-melon.

V

All the insects mentioned in the Tōkyō price-list are not of equal interest; and several of the names appear to refer only to different varieties of one species,--though on this point I am not positive. Some of the insects do not seem to have yet been scientifically classed; and I am no entomologist. But I can offer some general notes on the more important among the little melodists, and free translations of a few out of the countless poems about them,--beginning with the _matsumushi_, which was celebrated in Japanese verse a thousand years ago:

_Matsumushi._[11]

As ideographically written, the name of this creature signifies “pine-insect;” but, as pronounced, it might mean also “waiting-insect,”-- since the verb “_matsu_,” “to wait,” and the noun “_matsu_,” “pine,” have the same sound. It is chiefly upon this double meaning of the word as uttered that a host of Japanese poems about the _matsumushi_ are based. Some of these are very old,--dating back to the tenth century at least.

Although by no means a rare insect, the matsumushi is much esteemed for the peculiar clearness and sweetness of its notes--(onomatopoetically rendered in Japanese by the syllables _chin-chirorīn, chin-chirorīn_),-- little silvery shrillings which I can best describe as resembling the sound of an electric bell heard from a distance. The matsumushi haunts pine-woods and cryptomeria-groves, and makes its music at night. It is a very small insect, with a dark-brown back, and a yellowish belly.

* * * * *

Perhaps the oldest extant verses upon the matsumushi are those contained in the _Kokinshū_,--a famous anthology compiled in the year 905 by the court-poet Tsurayuki and several of his noble friends. Here we first find that play on the name of the insect as pronounced, which was to be repeated in a thousand different keys by a multitude of poets through the literature of more than nine hundred years:--

Aki no no ni Michi mo madoinu; Matsumushi no Koe suru kata ni Yadoya karamashi.

“In the autumn-fields I lose my way;--perhaps I might ask for lodging in the direction of the cry of the waiting-insect;”--that is to say, “might sleep to-night in the grass where the insects are waiting for me.” There is in the same work a much prettier poem on the matsumushi by Tsurayuki.

With dusk begins to cry the male of the Waiting-insect;-- I, too, await my beloved, and, hearing, my longing grows.

The following poems on the same insect are less ancient but not less interesting:--

Forever past and gone, the hour of the promised advent!-- Truly the Waiter’s voice is a voice of sadness now!

Parting is sorrowful always,--even the parting with autumn! O plaintive matsumushi, add not thou to my pain!

Always more clear and shrill, as the hush of the night grows deeper, The Waiting-insect’s voice;--and I that wait in the garden, Feel enter into my heart the voice and the moon together.

_Suzumushi._[12]

The name signifies “bell-insect;” but the bell of which the sound is thus referred to is a very small bell, or a bunch of little bells such as a Shinto priestess uses in the sacred dances. The _suzumushi_ is a great favorite with insect-fanciers, and is bred in great numbers for the market. In the wild state it is found in many parts of Japan; and at night the noise made by multitudes of _suzumushi_ in certain lonesome places might easily be mistaken,--as it has been by myself more than once,--for the sound of rapids. The Japanese description of the insect as resembling “a watermelon seed”--the black kind--is excellent. It is very small, with a black back, and a white or yellowish belly. Its tintinnabulation--_ri-ï-ï-ï-in_, as the Japanese render the sound--might easily be mistaken for the tinkling of a _suzu_. Both the _matsumushi_ and the _suzumushi_ are mentioned in Japanese poems of the period of Engi (901-922).

Some of the following poems on the suzumushi are very old; others are of comparatively recent date:--

Yes, my dwelling is old: weeds on the roof are growing;-- But the voice of the suzumushi that will never be old!

To-day united in love,--we who can meet so rarely! Hear how the insects ring!--their bells to our hearts keep time.

The tinkle of tiny bells,--the voices of suzumushi, I hear in the autumn-dusk,--and think of the fields at home.

Even the moonshine sleeps on the dews of the garden-grasses; Nothing moves in the night but the suzumushi’s voice.

Heard in these alien fields, the voice of the suzumushi,-- Sweet in the evening-dusk,--sounds like the sound of home.

Vainly the suzumushi exhausts its powers of pleasing, Always, the long night through, my tears continue to flow!

Hark to those tinkling tones,--the chant of the suzumushi! --If a jewel of dew could sing, it would tinkle with such a voice!

Foolish-fond I have grown;--I feel for the suzumushi!-- In the time of the heavy rains, what will the creature do?

_Hataori-mushi._

The _hataori_ is a beautiful bright-green grasshopper, of very graceful shape. Two reasons are given for its curious name, which signifies “the Weaver.” One is that, when held in a particular way, the struggling gestures of the creature resemble the movements of a girl weaving. The other reason is that its music seems to imitate the sound of the reed and shuttle of a hand-loom in operation,--_Ji-ï-ï-ï--chon-chon!--ji-ï-ï-ï--chon-chon!_

* * * * *

There is a pretty folk-story about the origin of the _hataori_ and the _kirigirisu_, which used to be told to Japanese children in former times.--Long, long ago, says the tale, there were two very dutiful daughters who supported their old blind father by the labor of their hands. The elder girl used to weave, and the younger to sew. When the old blind father died at last, these good girls grieved so much that they soon died also. One beautiful morning, some creatures of a kind never seen before were found making music above the graves of the sisters. On the tomb of the elder was a pretty green insect, producing sounds like those made by a girl weaving,--_ji-ï-ï-ï, chon-chon! ji-ï-ï-ï, chon-chon!_ This was the first _hataori-mushi_. On the tomb of the younger sister was an insect which kept crying out, “_Tsuzuré--sasé, sasé!--tsuzuré, tsuzuré--sasé, sasé, sasé!_” (Torn clothes--patch, patch them up!--torn clothes, torn clothes--patch up, patch up, patch up!) This was the first _kirigirisu_. Then everybody knew that the spirits of the good sisters had taken those shapes. Still every autumn they cry to wives and daughters to work well at the loom, and warn them to repair the winter garments of the household before the coming of the cold.

* * * * *

Such poems as I have been able to obtain about the _hataori_ consist of nothing more than pretty fancies. Two, of which I offer free renderings, are ancient,--the first by Tsurayuki; the second by a poetess classically known as “Akinaka’s Daughter”:--

Weaving-insects I hear; and the fields, in their autumn-colors, Seem of Chinese-brocade:--was this the weavers’ work?

Gossamer-threads are spread over the shrubs and grasses: Weaving-insects I hear;--do they weave with spider-silk?

_Umaoi._

The _umaoi_ is sometimes confounded with the _hataori_, which it much resembles. But the true umaoi--(called _junta_ in Izumo)--is a shorter and thicker insect than the _hataori_; and has at its tail a hook-shaped protuberance, which the weaver-insect has not. Moreover, there is some difference in the sounds made by the two creatures. The music of the umaoi is not “_ji-ï-ï-ï,--chon-chon_,” but, “_zu-ï-in-tzō!--zu-ï-in-tzō!_”--say the Japanese.

_Kirigirisu._[13]