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There was once a man named Masayuki, a retainer of Tsunemasa, who had some Buddhist images made and was preparing to have them consecrated. News of this got about, and one day, hearing a great uproar of eating and drinking in the part of the house where Tsunemasa lodged, the master sent to ask what was going on. “A man named Masayuki is having some Buddhist images consecrated,” came the answer, “and he has brought a feast to his lord’s house for the occasion. The other retainers are making merry over it. Today he is providing about a hundred trays of food. Tomorrow, Tsunemasa himself is to bring a portion for Your Lordship.” “Does everyone who has Buddhist images consecrated do this sort of thing?” the master asked. “Country people begin such celebrations four or five days before the consecration. Yesterday and the day before, he invited his own friends and neighbors to his house.” “What an amusing business!” said the master. “Well, I suppose I must wait until tomorrow.” And there the matter rested. The next morning he sat waiting eagerly, and before long Tsunemasa appeared. “This must be it,” thought the master, and said, “Well, where is it? Have it brought here.” Sure enough, in came the food. There was nothing particularly remarkable about it, but the dishes were heaped high and set out one after another. One or two quite respectable trays were laid out for the gentlemen in attendance, and a great many more were brought in, enough even for the servants and the women. A substantial spread was also set before the monk who was to officiate. They had decided to ask a monk who had accompanied a gentleman then visiting the house to conduct the service. As they were eating and drinking, this monk said, “I understand that I am to officiate tomorrow, but no one has told me which Buddha is to be consecrated. Which Buddha is it? There are a great many Buddhas, after all. I should like to know, so that I can choose the sutras to recite.” Tsunemasa heard this and said, “Quite right. Is Masayuki there?” The man who appeared must have been the one arranging the consecration. He was tall and sturdy, about fifty years old, with a reddish beard, and wore a sword and leather leggings. “Come over here,” Tsunemasa told him. He came into the courtyard and sat down. “Now then,” Tsunemasa asked, “which Buddha are you having consecrated?” “How should I know?” he replied. “What do you mean? Who ought to know, if not you? Or is someone else having the images consecrated, and you are merely making the arrangements?” “No, sir. It is I, Masayukimaro, who am having them consecrated.” “Then how can you not know which Buddha it is?” “I expect the sculptor knows.” Strange though this was, Tsunemasa thought it might well be true: perhaps the fellow had forgotten the Buddha’s name. “Where is this sculptor?” he asked. “At Eimeiji.” “Then he is nearby. Send for him.” Masayuki went back inside and returned with the sculptor, a stout, flat-faced monk of about sixty. He did not look as though he understood much of anything. He came forward and sat beside Masayuki. “Are you the sculptor?” Tsunemasa asked. “Yes, sir.” “Did you make Masayuki’s Buddhist images?” “I did.” “How many did you make?” “Five.” “And which Buddhas did you make?” “I could not say.” “What is this? Masayuki says he does not know, and now the sculptor does not know either! Who is supposed to know?” “How should the sculptor know? There is no way for a sculptor to know such a thing.” “Then who ought to know?” “Surely the reverend gentleman who is to officiate.” “What in the world is he talking about?” Everyone gathered round, laughing uproariously, until the sculptor lost his temper. “You gentlemen do not understand how these things are done!” he said, and got up to leave. When they inquired into the matter, they discovered what had happened. Masayuki had merely told him, “Make me some Buddhist images,” so he had carved five figures with plain, round heads, looking like roadside guardian deities without their caps. The intention was to have the officiating priest give them names at the consecration, declaring this one to be one Buddha and that one another. I found it a most amusing story when I heard it, though I was told that the religious merit was just the same. Such were the extraordinary things these ignorant folk would do.