I was determined to complete the course that time, so one night after class, wanting to change part-time jobs, I visited a rental carriage shop in Kanda. I explained my problem and asked if they could rent me a rickshaw. They refused saying, “We are not allowed to rent rickshaws to women.”

Back home, I had used a cart for farming, tilling, and other tough work which had made me strong and robust, so I thought that it would be easy for me to be a rickshaw driver and earn good money. Even though I was refused the first time, without despairing, I persisted.

The rickshaw shop master, who had at first made fun of and ignored me, finally, with tears in his eyes, relented, “You’re going to need a uniform to do this job.” Showing me a blue momohiki, the same color undershirt and cap, he said, “If you want a rickshaw, you will have to wear this.” No sooner had I got my hands on them than I changed into them. I tucked my bouffant nihyakusankōchi-mage(a popular hairstyle of the time), with the bangs towering up like the eaves of a roof, into the cap. “Hey, Mister. Do I look like a man in this?” I asked, and the master smiled and replied, “I’ll lend you a carriage, but just for tonight.” He then proceeded to get a rickshaw for me. I hurried to Shimbashi Station. I think that it was just about nine o’clock. Soon it was my turn so I got a fare, took him to Ueno, and received two yen for the effort.

The next night and the following night, I went again to ask if they wouldn’t mind lending me a rickshaw, but they refused. “We need permission from the police to keep renting you this car.” However, the shop master’s sympathetic wife half-secretly continued to lend me the car for about an hour every night for two and a half months.