"Did that teacher really not know who the boss is?" asked the kitchen helper. "How could he not know? Everyone round here knows the Kanedas. He must be blind, deaf, and dull-witted to boot." This from the Kaneda's rickshaw man. "What can I say? He's an odd one, lost in his books. Just an inkling of who the boss is, and he'd know enough to show some respect. Hopeless case. Doesn't even know his own children's ages," replied the cartman's wife. "No regard for the Kanedas, huh? Bothersome lout. What say we put some fear into him? He's no match for us." "Let's do. Insulting the madam's looks, calling out her nose -- how dare he? Look at his own mug, Imado-ware tanuki -- worse yet, purports to be accomplished." "It's not just his face. He saunters off to the baths, towel in hand, like an arrogant prig. Fancies himself above us." The kitchen helper takes great issue with master Kushami. "Anyhow, we'll go in numbers, right up to the fenceline, and let him hear it good." "Teach him who's who." "Best if we're heard but not seen. Impose our voices onto his studies, taunt him to no end. That's what Madam wishes." "Count me in." The cartman's wife allies herself as a fellow heckler. So this was the party, then, that was coming to taunt the master. Slipping softly past them, I proceed further in.