to buy for my wife. Now, I wonder what it was?"
Try as he might, he could not remember. He knew that it had something to do with the moon—but what? His memory was a blank. "Was it something round like the moon?" he asked himself, "or was it something that shone like the moon?" But not for the life of him could he recall what it was.
"Well," he said at last, "I might as well go to a shop and ask for help"
So the young farmer entered a shop and said, "Good day, Mr. Shopkeeper. Please give me something that looks like the moon, something a woman uses."
The shopkeeper laughed at this strange request. Then he looked around at the goods on his shelf, and his eyes lighted on a small, round hand mirror.
"Oh, I know," the shopkeeper said. "This must be what you want. Look, it's round and looks just like the full moon. You look into it and you can see yourself. A young bride would want it when she pretties herself. I am sure it could be nothing else."
Now, the bridegroom had never seen a mirror before, as they were very rare then. But he thought that surely his wife, the daughter of a rich old farming family, would know what it was. "Yes, this must be what my wife asked me to get," he answered, proud that he could get what his wife wanted.
Soon he was back home in the country again. As soon as he entered the house, his wife asked, "Did you remember to do my shopping for me?"
"Yes," he answered. "Here." And he handed her what he had bought.
The bride, expecting to receive a comb, wondered at the strange round object her husband handed her. She peered into the smooth glass. And what should she see there but the reflection of a young woman and a very pretty woman at that.
"What thing is this!" she cried. "I only asked for a comb, and here you bring home a pretty young woman." The wife turned angrily and ran to her mother.
"Mother, can you imagine anything so silly? I asked my husband to buy me a comb in town, and look what he brought home—a strange young woman!"
"Where? Where is she?" the mother asked, taking the mirror and peering into it.
Of course, the mother saw reflected only the face of a wrinkled old woman. "Why, my child," she said, "what are you talking about? This must be an old relative of ours from a neighboring village."
"No, you are wrong. It's a young woman," the young wife cried.
"No, it's you who are wrong. Look, she's an old, wrinkled woman," the mother retorted angrily. Thus the two began quarreling.
Just then a small boy came into the room, eating a rice cake. The boy picked up the mirror and peered into it. There he saw another boy eating a rice cake. The boy thought the stranger had taken his.
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