The Standard language was the possession only of the well-born and the well-educated.

After a while I began to feel the lack of someone to talk with, so I stopped a man who looked like a farmer and asked him the way. Probably there was something of the samurai manner in my speech and, without realizing it, I may have sounded commanding. The farmer replied very politely and left me with a respectful bow.

‘Well, this is interesting,’ I thought. I looked at myself and saw that I was carrying but an umbrella; I was plainly dressed too. I thought I would try again, and when another wayfarer came up, I stopped him with an awful, commanding voice:

‘I say, there! What is the name of that hamlet I see yonder? How many houses are there? Whose is the large residence with the tiled roof? Is the owner a farmer or a merchant? And what is his name?’

Thus with the undisguised manner of the samurai, I put all sorts of nonsensical questions on the stranger. The poor fellow shivered at the roadside and haltingly answered, ‘In great awe I shall endeavour to speak to your honour …’ […]