The young man tried to drive it away with a fan but it came back three times, as if loath to leave the sufferer. While they watched, Takahama fell asleep but he had no sooner done so than a large white butterfly flew into the room and rested on the old man's pillow. They both came and did all they could to bring comfort during his last hours. One summer day he became very ill, so ill, in fact, that he sent for his sister-in-law and her son. His madness, it would appear, entirely rested upon the fact that he had never married or evinced desire for intimate companionship with women. He was extremely amiable and generally liked by his neighbors, though most of them considered him to be a little mad.
An old man named Takahama lived in a little house behind the cemetery of the temple of Sozanji.
