Out Devils, In Luck!

For the sixth time in a twelvemonth, Japanese were perturbed, last week, at the recurrence of an awful but now chronic scandal: personal appeal by a mere subject to the Divine Emperor.

Since His Majesty is the 124th lineal descendant of the Sun Goddess Amaterasu-0-Mikami, such appeals are regarded as a deadly sacrilege and sin. Nonetheless last week, when Emperor Hirohito rode out to open Parliament, a burly farmer from Saitama Province burst through the cordon of Imperial police and groveled sinfully before the Son of Heaven.

"The floods!" cried the farmer. "Save us from the waters, Divine One! The floods are rising in Saitama. Save our farms! Speak only a word to Amaterasu-0-Mikami, that She may dry up the floods!"

As the simple, believing rustic was dragged away, the "Son of Heaven" looked down compassionately through spectacles, from his great Louis XIV State Coach. Above the gorgeous vehicle a golden phoenix perched with wings spread--symbol of divine and inextinguishable Radiance. If the little slant-eyed man in spectacles really believes that he can talk with his Divine Ancestress Amaterasu-0-Mikami--as he is supposed to do several times a year--the farmer's plea must have stirred in His Majesty strange emotions.

Presently, as the State Coach clattered into Parliament Square and drew up, Emperor Hirohito stepped nimbly down, as though nothing had happened, and was received by members of the Kizokuin (House of Peers) and the Shugiin (Commons), standing at stiff attention in the open air. Soon, beneath the vault of Heaven, the Son of Heaven pronounced in high, piercing, rapid syllables the traditional Four Sentences, opening Parliament.

Though varied slightly, as occasion demands, the Four Sentences are always to the effect that His Majesty's relations with the Powers are friendly (as at present) or otherwise; that the budget must be voted; and that Peers and Commons should "exercise care and consideration for the welfare of the Empire."

Political Situation. When members of the present Parliament were elected (TIME, March 5), the Seiyukai party of Prime Minister General Baron Giichi Tanaka could count upon only 221 seats. The Government was therefore menaced with upset by the Minseito opposition of 214, plus a faction holding the balance of power led by Deputy Yusuke Tsurumi. That the Cabinet was not immediately overthrown, was due to the adjournment of Parliament for the solemn enthronement of the Emperor Hirohito.

During this ceremonious interval, Baron Tanaka has unquestionably played politics with bribes and blandishments. The result appeared to be, last week, that Deputy Yusuke Tsurumi and his balance-of-power faction are now heart and soul for the Prime Minister. Furthermore moneyed Baron Tanaka has persuaded 29 of the Minseito opposition Deputies to bolt their party under Takejiro Tokonami and set themselves up as soi-disant independents. This reduces the effective strength of the Minseito opposition to 185, making certain supremacy for the Prime Minister.

With decks thus cleared, it might have been supposed that Parliament would settle at once to the major business of enacting the budget and passing a looming and monumental bill intended to transfer numerous land and industrial taxes from national to provincial authorities. Actually no business whatever was done, last week, since Parliament was obliged to adjourn to Jan. 20 for the national celebration of Japanese New Year. Since Japan adopted the Gregorian calendar in 1873,

Japan's New Year's Day has fallen on the same date as in the U. S., but there the likeness ends. Japanese would consider it impious to devote less than two full weeks to jubilation.

Hung in each Japanese doorway, last week, was a bit of straw rope, the shimenawa, beloved of the Sun Goddess. Japanese husbands rose up on New Years, opened their doors and scattered parched beans in four directions, crying "Out of my house, Devils! Welcome in, Luck!"

Prior to the sacred Seventh Day, solemn Japanese virgins dutifully gathered the Seven Spring Grasses, used to make a broth, which, mixed with rice, is consumed by every pious Japanese family at breakfast, on the Seventh Morn.

Subsequent jubilation always includes stilt-walking and kite-flying by boys and young men. playing at battledore and shuttlecock by girls, and the composition of stately New Year poems by every elder Japanese who would be thought a gentleman or lady.

The national New Year Poetry Competition is currently upon the theme: Denka no asa (Morn at the farmhouse). With this in mind each contestant has composed a classical tonka, a verse form containing 31 syllables in lines of 5, 7, 5, 7 and 7. Amid national festivities and rejoicings the prize winner will be named and complimented by the Sublime Emperor Hirohito, himself no mean poet.