How to Fool a Cat Read online

  Persimmon Guard

  Once upon a time, there was a foolish young man. One day his father said, “It’s a wonderful day to pick all our persimmons. But I have things I must do first. Hey, son! Watch over our persimmon tree while I’m gone, will you?” And he went out.

  “All right,” the foolish son said. He sat under the persimmon tree and watched it.

  Naughty kids from the village, five or six of them, came and climbed up the tree. They picked the good-looking persimmons on the low branches and ate them. Musha, musha, musha, they chewed up persimmons from here, and persimmons from there.

  That son watched them eat the persimmons.

  “Oh, they’re taking that delicious-looking one. Oh, ohhh, that one over there is also taken. Oh, what a pity, now they’re taking another one!” he said sadly.

  Those kids ate as many as they could, even stuffed their pockets with them, and left. The persimmons on the low branches were all taken.

  “Oh, they took many persimmons. But there are more and more on the middle and high branches,” he said and watched the tree.

  Then monkeys came down from the mountains. They climbed up the tree.

  They climbed much better than those kids, up to the middle branches.

  “Oh, they’re taking that delicious-looking one. Oh, ohhh, that one over there is also taken. Oh, there goes another one!” the foolish son said sadly.

  The monkeys ate all the persimmons on the middle branches and went back to the mountain.

  “There are still some left on the high branches,” he said and kept watching.

  Then came a lot of crows. They pecked all the persimmons on the highest branches, and flew away.

  The father came home. “Did you watch the persimmon tree?” he asked his son.

  “Yes, Father,” the foolish son replied.

  “All right. So let’s pick our persimmons, shall we?” he said and went to the tree.

  When he looked up, of course there were no persimmons left.

  Oshimai

  Which Is Farther?

  Once upon a time, there was a foolish son. One day, his father asked him, “Which is farther, the City of Edo or the sun?”

  The foolish son answered, “Of course, Edo is farther. From here, I can see the sun. But I can’t see the city of Edo, even if I climb up the mountain behind our house.”

  “It surely is true. I can’t see Edo from here. Well, I guess you are not that foolish after all,” said his father.

  Oshimai

  Grilling Fish

  Once upon a time, a mother was grilling fish in the kitchen. She told her foolish son, “I have things to do in the front of the house. Can you watch this?”

  The foolish son watched it.

  A cat came in, took the fish in its mouth and went away.

  He kept watching until he could no longer see the cat with the fish.

  Oshimai

  Carrying a Bag of Rice

  Once upon a time, there was a foolish son. One day, his father told him, “You should start to learn a job.”

  So the boy went to his uncle in town and asked, “I want to start job training.”

  His uncle ran a rice shop. He said, “I’m glad you came. As a beginning, I want you to deliver this bag of rice to a customer. You can use my horse. But it’s not a strong horse. You can’t ride on it when the horse is carrying the bag.”

  The foolish son went out. “I can’t ride on the horse when the horse is carrying the rice bag. Then, I should ride on it without the bag. No! Then, I can’t deliver the rice.”

  He thought about it for a while, and figured it out. “Oh, I know how to do it!”

  He was happy with his brilliant idea. Carrying the bag on his back, he rode on the horse.

  Oshimai

  Where the Crow Is

  Once upon a time, a foolish son was working in the vegetable field with his father. But his father told him, “I have some errands to do. You keep plowing here, all right?”

  The foolish son asked, “How far do I go with the plow, Father?”

  “You see that crow over there?” The crow was sitting at the far edge of the field. “You keep plowing as far as that crow.”

  “Oh, I see. As far as that crow. All right, Father.”

  His father went back home to do his errands. The foolish son kept plowing toward the crow.

  But the crow cawed and flew to another spot. So the foolish son plowed and plowed toward the crow.

  The crow cawed again and flew off toward the mountain. The foolish son followed the crow, and plowed and plowed.

  When his father came back, he found a zigzag line plowed across the field, wobbling toward the mountain. “My foolish son! Where has he gone?” he wondered.

  The foolish son was plowing toward the mountain, following the crow.

  Oshimai

  A Happy Thing

  Once upon a time, there was a foolish son. “I have nothing to do. I’m bored. It’s so boring.” He just stayed home and did nothing.

  So his father said, “You should go out and look around. There must be something interesting out there. If you just stay home, there will be nothing. Go out and see.”

  So, the foolish son went out. “Is there anything fun? Is there anything to make me happy?”

  A man was coming toward him. He was soaking wet but he was saying to himself, “Oh, I’m so happy! I’m so happy! Nothing made me happier than this! Oh, I’m so glad! I’m really glad!” He was so happy that he skipped as he walked.

  The foolish son asked the man, “Hey, mister! Why are you so happy? What was such fun?”

  The man answered, “I dropped my wallet in the river, but finally I found it! I’m soaking wet, but I found it! I’m so happy! I’m so glad!”

  “Oh, I see. It makes you very happy to drop a wallet in a river and find it.”

  The foolish son went to the river. He dropped his wallet into the shallow water and picked it up. But he didn’t feel happy at all. “Maybe that’s not deep enough.”

  He threw his wallet farther out into the river and went to pick it up. This time it wasn’t so easy to find it. “Oh, no. Where is my wallet?”

  He looked here. He looked there. He picked up a rock. Splashing water this way and that way, he looked and looked. His kimono was soaking wet.

  By the time he finally found his wallet, it was already evening.

  “Oh, I’m so glad! I’m so happy! I found my wallet and it made me so happy! I’m glad I found something fun today!”

  Happily, he went back home.

  Oshimai

  TRICKSTERS

  How to Fool a Cat

  Once upon a time, there was a sculptor who carved beautiful things out of expensive, fine-grained wood. He was a good sculptor, and he liked to brag about it.

  “My sculpture is the best in Japan. I’m the best sculptor in the whole wide world.” He bragged and bragged, “Nobody can beat my sculpture.”

  He bragged so much, the villagers didn’t like it. “How can we take him down a peg or two?” they thought.

  One day, a village man went to the provincial governor. “I want to compete with that famous sculptor. We will carve the same thing, and you can give a prize to the best one.”

  “All right. That sounds interesting. I don’t care what you make,” said the governor.

  “I would like us to each carve a mouse,” said the village man. “It must be such a good mouse that it will fool your cat.”

  “Very well. Tell that sculptor to carve a mouse, too,” said the governor. “We’ll see if he can fool my cat.”

  The governor ordered both men to bring their sculpted mice on a certain day of a certain month.

  When he heard about it, the bragging sculptor said, “Carving a mouse is simple. I can make it in a day.” That sculptor carved a beautiful wooden mouse, put it in a gorgeous paulownia-wood box and waited for the contest day.

  The village man seemed to work on something, too. He put it in an ordinary cedar-wood box
, not an expensive paulownia-wood box.

  When the contest day came, they both brought their boxes to the governor’s mansion. The bragging sculptor took his beautifully carved mouse out of the paulownia-wood box. It looked as if it were alive!

  “Now let’s see your mouse,” the governor ordered the village man.

  He took out a shapeless gray lump from his plain cedar box.

  “What is that?” asked the governor. “Is it a rock, or a dumpling? Are you saying that is a mouse?”

  “That surely is a mouse,” replied the village man.

  All the governor’s advisors, who were sitting nearby, said, “The winner is obvious. This one looks like a real live mouse. But that one looks like a rock. This one wins the competition.”

  But the village man said, “The rule was, the mouse must fool your cat.”

  So the governor ordered a servant to bring his cat into the room. The servant put the cat between the two sculpted mice.

  She stared from one mouse to the other.

  Then she gave a sniff, shook her tail, and jumped on the lumpy mouse. She snatched it and ran away.

  The governor was very surprised, “Oh! That one looked very bad to me. But the cat chose it! So that one is the better mouse,” he said.

  The village man who made that lumpy mouse got a big prize.

  “How did you do it?” asked the governor.

  “You see,” replied the village man, “my mouse was made from a chunk of smoked dried fish.”

  Oshimai

  NOTE FROM FRAN: Japanese cats love smoked dried tuna, katsuobushi. People shave it into thin flakes (like Parmesan cheese) to add savory flavor to soups and rice dishes. Tasty!

  The Price of a Smell

  Once upon a time, long ago, there was a traveler. He didn’t carry much. He just hung a carrying cloth with three large plain rice balls from his sash and walked. When he saw the sun in the middle of the sky, he figured, “Oh, it’s about noon. I will have my lunch here.”

  He sat under a big tree. He took out his rice balls. Then he caught a wonderful smell.

  “Ummm. What a smell! It’s broiled eel. Yes! I’ll eat my rice with broiled eel today.”

  He started to follow the smell.

  Ummm, it’s coming from this way.

  Ummm, it’s coming from this way.

  Ummm, this way.

  Ummm, this way.

  He walked following the smell until he came to a broiled eel restaurant.

  Usually, broiled eel restaurants put delicious sauce on the eels, arrange them on a grill, and use a fan to send the good smell all around in order to gather customers.

  This traveler, too, was drawn to the restaurant by the smell. But at the front of the restaurant, when he took out his wallet to pay, he changed his mind.

  Wait a minute! I just started my trip today. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. I shouldn’t spend my money for broiled eels here. It’s a waste of my money. Today, I should just enjoy the smell. I don’t have to pay to eat my plain rice along with the smell of broiled eel.

  He put his wallet back. He took out his first rice ball and broke it into halves. He put one half into his mouth, flared his nostrils and walked in front of the restaurant.

  “Ummm . . .” he breathed in vigorously.

  “Ummm . . . Gulp!” He chewed and swallowed the first half. It was delicious!

  He threw the other half into his mouth.

  “Ummm . . .” he breathed in. Munch, munch, munch, munch and gulp! “Oh, it was delicious!”

  He took out his second rice ball, broke it into halves, and threw the first half into his mouth. “Ummm . . . Ummm . . . What a wonderful smell!” Munch, munch, munch, munch, and gulp!

  Then the second half. “Ummm . . .” Munch, munch, munch, munch, and gulp!

  He took out his third rice ball, broke it into halves, and put the first half into his mouth. “Ummm . . .” Munch, munch, munch, munch, and gulp!

  He put the last piece to his mouth. “This is my last one,” he thought. “I should taste this slowly and carefully.” He cleared his nostrils. Slowly, slowly, he walked.

  “Ummmmmmmmm . . .”

  Slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly.

  “Ummmmmmmmm . . .”

  Slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly.

  “Ummmmmmmmm . . .” Munch, munch, munch, munch and gulp!!

  He ate up his three rice balls. “Oh, that was a good lunch. Great side dish, too. Now I should get going,” he said and started to leave the town.

  Then the manager of the restaurant came out. He saw that the traveler was a simple country man.

  Hey! Traveler! You might not know because you are a stranger, but our eels are so tasty and good that people pay me even for just the smell. I watched you coming and going and smelling the smell six times. So you must pay me six Mon. (a small coin in old days)

  He teased, and put his hand out.

  Oh, really? I knew that different places have different customs, but I never dreamed of a place where you have to pay for the smell of broiled eels. Well, I can’t argue. When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

  The traveler took out his wallet.

  The manager of the restaurant turned his head aside and grinned slyly.

  What a foolish man! I was just making fun of him. He took it seriously and is going to pay me. Well, if he wants to pay, I’ll take his money.

  He waited with his hand out.

  The traveler took out one Mon coin and held it on his palm. Then the second Mon coin. The manager watched greedily. Then, the third, fourth, fifth and sixth.

  The traveler put his hands together like this, enclosing the coins.

  I got just the smell of your eels. In turn, I will give you just the sound of my money. Charin, charin, charin. (sound of coins chiming together)

  Charin, charin, charin.

  He shook his hands six times.

  “Well, goodbye.”

  The traveler continued on his way.

  Oshimai

  COMMENT FROM FUJITA-SAN: The smell of broiled eel is very attractive. But the smell of noodle shops at train stations is very attractive, too. Especially when I’m hungry, it’s hard to resist. The train won’t come for a while. I feel like going in the shop . . .

  But to tell you the truth, I am too shy to go in there. One reason is that my parents prohibited it strictly, saying “A young lady should not go into a restaurant or a cafe alone.” I am not young any more, but still I feel it’s something I shouldn’t do.

  Another reason is that I have been a teacher for a long time. “Hi, Mrs. Fujita! How have you been?” If somebody comes up to me suddenly at a noodle shop in a train station, I might choke with noodles.

  So I don’t dare to go into a noodle shop. Instead, I just come and go in front of the shop, enjoying the smell. And when I feel guilty, I jingle coins in my pocket. Charin, Charin!

  Fox and Zatobo-sama

  In old times, a Zatobo-sama was a blind man who played shamisen (a traditional stringed instrument), sang songs, told stories, and traveled from village to village.

  Well, one day in a certain village, a Zatobo-sama sang many songs and told many stories. When he finished, the villagers gave him some money.

  Zatobo-sama said, “Thank you very much. The day is still young, so I want to travel to the next village today. Excuse me, please.”

  He stood up and was about to leave when a woman stopped him. “Zatobo-sama, would you wait a second? Yesterday I made inari-zushi (flavored rice tucked into fried tofu), and I have some left over at home. I want you to take it. So please wait here.”

  She ran to her house, wrapped inari-zushi in a butterbur leaf, bound it up with a string, and gave it to Zatobo-sama.

  “Thank you very much. I will eat it in the mountains on my way.”

  Happily he carried the bundle in his hand, and with his shamisen slung on his back, started walking up the mountain road to the next village. He walked and walked along the trail. When he thought he had reached t
he top of the mountain, he stopped. “I will take a rest here and eat this inari-zushi the woman gave me. Is there any good place to sit?”

  He felt his way around and found a good rock to sit on. He put down the inari-zushi by the rock, unslung the shamisen from his back, took out a handkerchief and wiped off his sweaty face. “Oh, it is very hot.” He sat down on the rock and reached for the inari-zushi beside him. But it wasn’t there.

  “Strange,” he thought.

  He felt all over the place to find it but he couldn’t.

  “If a person walks up to me, my ears won’t miss it. But foxes can sneak up very quietly. I think it was foxes that took my inari-zushi. Oh, I hate them! I was looking forward to having that snack and they stole it.”

  He was very angry, but he couldn’t eat what was gone. So he got up, slung his shamisen on his back, and walked wearily to the next village.

  The next day, in that village, he played shamisen, sang songs and told stories. Then he traveled to the next village, then to the next, then to the next. Wherever he went, he sang songs and told stories. After a while, he had made quite a lot of money so he decided to go back.

  He returned the way he had come. When he got back to the village just this side of the mountain where his inari-zushi had been stolen, he asked the villagers, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I would like you to make me a huge drawstring bag and some Mouse Tempura.”

  “Yech,” said the villagers in disbelief, “do you mean battered, deep-fried mice? People don’t eat mice. What are you going to do with it?”