On a Goldfish Farm.

Hokitika Guardian, 26 October 1922, Page 1

On a Goldfish Farm.

(By Zoo Kincaid). Now and then in Japan an", occupation is discovered that ,is so far removed from the ordinary that it might as well belong to the activities of the inhabitants of some other globe. Such an industry is the goldfish farm in the suburbs of Tokio I had the good chance to visit one summer morning-

There were five ponds alive with goldfish—the jolly old farmer estimated their number at 80,000. This meant there were so many they could not he counted.

Bordering the ponds were irises that grew waist-high, varying in colour from deepest purple to the most delicate lavender, and , every gradation, cold and warm, from mauve and magenta to wistaria and heliotrope—great splashes of colour. Beyond was the new green of the rice fields stretching a,way to Tokio Bay. t But it was the rustic cottage on tin’s singular farm that well deserved attention—a toy house, vet showing in every detail the- taste of the inmates. In the tiny parlour was to be seen a recess in which hung a'picture painted by a famous artist. The private study of the goldfish farmer disclosed a Bntsudnn, or Buddhist shrine,. the room looking out upon, a miniature garden that revealed tlie owner’s skill as a landscape artist. Tn the very’ oentre of the abode was a soring of water. The overflow was carried through the kitchen and out to the fish poilds by means of a glorified drain —a drain transformed to looklike a rocky brook iiy a mountain solitude, large, smooth stones on either side, and ns if to inerease the delusion, stepning stones were placed amid stream. They also served a utilitarian nuroose, for the farmer and his wife used them in their comings and goings while looking after the goldfish. As a hoy the farmer liy»d in the country until Tokio him. His business prospered frt the citv, and when old age drew hear he determined to retire and lead n life to his own taste. A hermitage was planned, and he began to carry out his long-cherished , ideas. . . _

He found an old crouv who wished lo join him in this rustic paradise, Iml it did not take long to discover that two old men cannot get along very well together, and, moreover, he soon realised that it is not good for man to he alone. He had reached the proper frame of mind to appreciate the comfort his wife brought him when she was induced to join him in this sylvan’ retreat.

The wife had a special liking for goldfish, siiiee her family conducted a retail business in these innocents. She knew their habits, how to feed and rear and clean them, so she was nol long in turning the place into a goldfish farm.

At staled periods the wife sent the fish to Tokio to he redistributed to the kingyo-ya, or goldfish vendors. These histv fellows would then run about the eftv, their brimming tubs of water, containing the fish, balanced on cither end of n shoulder pole. Tn addition. the vendor wbjijd carry assorted glass globes to convey the little creatures to their new homes on the innumerable streets of Tokio. The, name ol the fairv-like farm is Gvotaku-en, which, being translated, means “Fish-to-Enjoy-Garden.” But it does not appear who takes most pleasure in this beautiful, restful spot—the farmer, the fish, or the honourable guest. -