“It’s worse than the Japanese, this old devil of a river,” Little Pig said recklessly.
“Fool!” said Mrs. Wang quickly. “The river god will hear you. Talk about something else.”
So they had gone on talking about the Japanese. How, for instance, asked Wang, the baker, would they Japanese when they saw them?
Mrs. Wang at this point said positively, “You’ll know them. I once saw a foreigner. He was taller than the roof of my house, and he had mud-colored hair and eyes the color of a fish’s eyes. Anyone who does not look like us—that is Japanese.”