The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1897-03-02
TOO MUCH FRUIT.


of Blum little samson player on the wall.
"Why don't you eat it?'' asked Polly.
The idea of internally absorbing the
beautiful had strange charm. 1t was a
very large persimnon, but ate it all, and
then 1 went to bed.
From ceiling that crawled and crinkled
I watched cherry colored mandarin swing
slowly down on to my bed. From the spot
from which he dropped came another and
another, all no longer than pea pod and
as dry. Solemnly they squatted on my
chest and lifted their hairy arms, in which
were twisted rods with carven, grinning
faces.
Crashl They broke into a shrin, discord-
ant song, beating, beating, beating on my
ribs One, near the apex of my heart, would
not keep time, and that was worse than all.
How the blows hurt, and how their curled
up knees sank deep into my heshI The
words of the song seemed to leap forth
like little cubes and hop over my skin,
burning as they rolled The pain was IN
endurable. I drew great gasp of agony
and was free. They were gone.
a long vista of grayness resolved itself
into a strange perspective. was seated
in a fragile jinrikisha, but instead of the
lusty runner, blue skirted and handy legged,
between the shafts was mOnstrous horse,
tall to heaven; with stridings that devour-
u.
sounded in my ears:
BE thou careful, o careless one, for
thou hast that in charge that is precious"
looked down, and beside me crouched
bit of a brown baby, naked and unafraid,
whose knob of hair, tied in tiny brush,
painted hieroglyphics in the air with every
leap of the lurching vehicle.
BY some swift intuition I knew that
this prancing. gigantic horse was the pride
of the mikado's stables and the brown
baby the hope of the empire, and that &C
cident to either meant a punishment to fit
the crime. I looked ahead. The white
slopes of Fusiyanna, the sacred mountain,
lay before US, up which none may pass
alive.
On either side our way impenetrable
pines, in whose dark branches COLLINS sat
and grimaced horribly. On we rushed.
The great fore feet of the horse struck the
slope of the forbidden hill. A sudden shock
ran through all his body. I stood alone
in the road. On the SIDE his blood dyeing
the scanty sod, lay the horse, a deep hole
in his quivering side, while in my arms
the child lay leaden, gasping.
Crowds of other people gathered about
US and looked upon me ominously, silently.
'KiIl this wretched creature in mercy
I begged. They stood unmoved, silent,
still, while the horse gazed at me in more
than human anguish. Clasping the child,
aloud for help in vain.
Suddenly L stood in a vast room. All
about it's sides were ladders of bamboo
fragile and hung by slender threads. In
the corners, overhead and swinging corpse
like, were bundles, shapeless, unspeakable
The air was filled with a sickening odor,
as of mingled decay and strange spices,
pungent and sweet. Slowly the swinging
bundles took form, and beneath appeared
the outline of body in a dim and bewi1-
dering individuality, ludicrous and horri-
BILE.
Again a voice cried-a voice of authority
not to be gainsaid-"S Search 4" Again
knew that somewhere in this formless i'm
mensity the little brown baby was hid,
still alive, and could 1 but find him ere
too late L might save our souls alive from
I knew not what. Instantly he was no
longer the heir of the house of San, but
mine, my>own, that had lived and loved
and lain on my breast, and whose life
would die million deaths to save, whose
agony would brave the gods to assuage.
How I tossed the dreadful bundles
about How tore them open ruthleSsly,
only to see a sunken eye or gaping mouth
How chung to the spiderlike ladders and
leaped across chasmlike spaces. At last,
among heap of squalid rags, in q corner
where snakes writhed and ran, little
foot peeped out. 1t moved. 1t was warm.
/ tore away the clothes as a dog tears at
the earth that covers his quarry and snatch
ed the child to my heart. On his bare
breast gaped a wide wound, its edges al
ready purple and receding, and as looked
I saw the fatal flush spread up and up.
Waterl Oh, if there were only waterl 1
saw dull pool at my feet, and, STOPPING,
dashed the icy drops upon the wound. In
vain. One chance remained-to call back
the fleeing soul by name in desperate en-
treaty. Surely my baby would listen.
The word died on my lips, for the child
on my heart changed again as 1 would
have spoken, and what knew I of the name
of the mikado's heirP Let me think.
must think. Did not some one of that
cruel crowd that stared and grinned speak
it? I strive; I groan; cry aloud. The
heavy air sends back my cries hollowly,
and as I choke into silence I see the lids
futter and fall. The hope of the empire
has gone all too soon to the sacred shades
of Fusiyama, and l, L alone, must answer.
Alone in the silence and darkness of
cell. 1 could put out my hand and feel
that the wall was made of some rough
woven grass, about which chung a pene-
trating odor. In this grass I could hear
the movement of millions of minute in
sects, 1 knew not of what detested shape
and kind. I began to pass my hands over
these walls in I know not what barren
hope of escape. Carefully crept on and
on, measuring, comparing, testing Then
/ went back and began again. My hands
kept slipping off strangely into space. The
cell had no shape-simply dimension.
Alasi was no simple onlooker at some
splendid revel of primeval nature. All
that was in this stupendous scheme was
me, sentient, suffering soul
The helpless, tortured ego was a part of
the whole. 1t froze on those cold, piercing
peaks, baked on those plains of arid sand,
was tossed in that human sea, was blown
on those tempestuous winds. All this 1
was, all this inflicted, all this bore for
a forever.
of me, there was only light, light that
grew and blazed and turned white and
r,,.axz- AGAIN fill tho aveS Of both ,odx- aDd