Daughter of the Samuari

Daughter of the Samuari
Автор книги: id книги: 1589229     Оценка: 0.0     Голосов: 0     Отзывы, комментарии: 0 1004,69 руб.     (9,33$) Читать книгу Купить и скачать книгу Купить бумажную книгу Электронная книга Жанр: Биографии и Мемуары Правообладатель и/или издательство: Ingram Дата добавления в каталог КнигаЛит: ISBN: 9781462903672 Скачать фрагмент в формате   fb2   fb2.zip Возрастное ограничение: 0+ Оглавление Отрывок из книги

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A Daughter of the Samurai tells the true story of a samurai's daughter, brought up in the strict traditions of feudal Japan, who was sent to America to meet her future husband. An engrossing, haunting tale that gives us insight into an almost forgotten age.Madam Sugimoto was born in Japan, not in the sunny southern part of the country which has given it the name of «The Land of Flowers,» but in the northern province of Echigo which is bleak and cold and so cut off from the rest of the country by mountains that in times past it had been considered fit only for political prisoners or exiles.Her father was a Samurai, with high ideals of what was expected of a Samurai's family. His hopes were concentrated in his son until the son refused to marry the girl for whom he was destined and ran off to America. After that all that was meant for him fell to the lot of the little wavy-haired Etsu who writes here so delightfully of the things that happened in their childhood days in far-away Japan.

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Etsu Inagaki Sugimoto. Daughter of the Samuari

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A DAUGHTER OF THE SAMURAI

I DEDICATE THESE SACRED MEMORIES

.....

It was Ishi. She had moved over on to the mat, leaving her cushion for me. She knew I loved to turn the spinning wheel, so she pushed the cotton ball into my hand, holding her own safely over it. I can yet feel the soft pull of the thread slipping through my fingers as I whirled the big wheel. I am afraid that I spun a very uneven thread, and it was probably fortunate for her work that my attention was soon attracted by Jiya's entrance. He pulled a mat over to the clay side of the room and in a moment was seated with his foot stretched out, holding between his toes one end of the rope he was twisting out of rice-straw.

"Jiya San," called Ishi, "we have an honoured guest."

.....

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