The most picturesque and amusing beings ... in Japan, are not the men nor the women, but the children, owing to the bright colouring and the infinite variety of pattern of the stuff of which their dresses are made, and the quaint old-fashioned look which the dress gives them as they toddle about (especially, I presume, in the winter season, when they wear more clothes), with their little shaved heads, chubby faces, and jet-black eyes. ... I may say in passing that I have but one very strong objection to these little life-visitors to the sunrise-land, and that is that they do not, as a rule, get their little noses attended to nearly often enough, though even in that matter they are, perhaps, “more sinned against than sinning.”
Japan: Its History, Traditions, and Religions (1880)
The children here are always laughing and happy; it is delightful never seeing anything or anybody ill-treated.
Journal of a Lady’s Travels Round the World (1883)
I thought it singular that, during the whole period of our stay in Yedo, I should never have heard a scolding woman, or seen a disturbance in the streets, although, whenever I passed through them, they were densely crowded. Upon no single occasion, though children were numerous, did I ever see a child struck or otherwise maltreated.
Narrative of the Earl of Elgin’s Mission to China and Japan (1859)
Japanese children have a great deal done for their amusement. We often pass large toy-shops filled with pretty things for them, such as windmills, kites, tops, balls, dolls, toy cats, dogs and other animals, all highly colored. The children who play about the streets are merry little people; they have sparkling eyes and bright, intelligent faces, and seem to enjoy their sport as much as little ones at home. Many of the girls have babies strapped on their backs. These babies’ heads roll from side to side, and the poor little unprotected eyes blink in the sunshine. Some of these children are covered with loathsome sores. Skin-diseases are very common here.
It is said that Japanese children do not cry or quarrel as do those in our land. Several causes have been assigned for this. Though parents are very strict in exacting obedience, they do not subject their little ones to so many orders or restraints. Then their clothing is much lighter than in this country, giving more freedom to their limbs, and they are more the children of nature than of artificial life. And another cause may be found in the fact that they have less vitality and nervous energy than European or American children have, and hence are more indifferent to both pleasure and pain. These little Asiatics are quiet and patient generally, content to go on in the same routine day after day. They do not give us so much to write and talk about as the children of our land, with their pretty sayings and doings. They do cry sometimes, and their screams are long and loud.
The mission of the little street-children has been very sweet to us. When we first came here, the people seemed like inhabitants of another planet. The only way we could gain any feeling of kinship was by shutting our eyes to their strange customs and letting the sound of the children’s voices in their happy laughter or grieved crying enter our ears. It was then that we heard familiar sounds, and realized that these strangers are indeed our flesh and blood. And so we pray God to bless the little children of Japan.
The Sunrise Kingdom (1879)
I have heard somewhere of a difference of ceremony observed at the birth of a boy-baby and a girl: the little boy is raised and the girl lowered, in token of superior or inferior position. But I have never myself noticed any difference in their treatment, and great care is taken even of sickly or deformed infants. The Japanese are not like their neighbors, who desert their blind, deformed or diseased infants.
The Sunrise Kingdom (1879)
While walking along [in a poorer quarter of Tokyo] between the low wooden houses with their heavily tiled roofs, we have abundant opportunities of seeing every phase of domestic life. Here we see a party of little children with their bright dresses of imitation crape (chirimen), and their little heads clean shaved with the exception of four little tufts, one in front, one behind, and one at each side. Some are flying kites made in the shape of diminutive men with outspread arms, while the smaller ones are confining their attention to the perilous occupation of climbing down from the raised floor of the houses to the road, and there making their first attempts at walking in clogs; and as they always secure the biggest ones at hand, their endeavours are often extremely amusing. The moment a jinriki-sha is seen approaching, the children immediately show a strong desire to be on the opposite side of the road, the result of this generally being a series of narrow escapes, which would in many cases be bad accidents were it not that the jinrika-sha is so quickly swerved aside or stopped.
Japan: Its History, Traditions, and Religions (1880)
The dear little rosy-cheeked shaven-pated children in wadded garments of many colours, which make them look like animated patchwork-pincushions, play round me in the sunshine, a game something like hop-scotch, with the ground marked out by blossoms of crimson camellias brought down from the tree overhead by last night’s rain; or they try to make pebbles lodge on the bar of the great stone gateway, which, if they succeed in doing, will bring them good luck.
Journal of a Lady’s Travels Round the World (1883)
One peculiar custom is soon noted. It is the destiny of every girl, and many of the boys, to assume at an early age the care of younger members of the household; and almost every one, from four years old upward, has a baby strapped upon the back. Seen at a little distance, if the baby is awake, the two heads seem to belong to one person, the smaller being set a little to one side, instead of squarely upon the shoulders; and if, as often happens, the other head, to maintain a balance, leans in the opposite direction, it is a question at first which belongs to baby and which to nurse. Intent upon their sports or running of errands, as the case may be, these children seem scarcely conscious of their burthens. And the little ones, seemingly aware of their dependence, are hardly more trouble than so many kittens. They submit to be jounced, jolted, and tossed about in most reckless fashion, seldom cry, and when wearied fall asleep with head drooping back or to one side, in a way that threatens instant dislocation of the neck.
From Japan to Granada (1889)
The children, it seems to me, must seem charming to every traveller; they are so quiet and pretty and well-behaved—and especially so polite. I amused myself by bowing profoundly to a half-naked youngster; but he returned my salutation gravely, and with equal formality. The younger children are occasionally terrified at sight of me. Perhaps mothers have frightened them into good behaviour by vague hints as to the “hairy-faced foreigner.” Many times babies on their mothers’ backs break out into violent crying, as they see me looking at them. One morning I came upon a little boy of five or six playing with two younger children in the road. I stopped a moment to look at them, when patting the others on the back with a hurried injunction to get behind him, he faced me with a piteous, scared, but admirably brave look, as if to say “I don’t know what you are going to do; but you can’t touch my little brother and sister till you’ve killed me!” I hope he thought better of me before we parted.
Rambles Through Japan Without a Guide (1892)
◀ WomenForeigners ▶