The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1911-03-29

him up, into the sunlight, the sun
light, the sunlight!
CHAPTER LII.
Know All Men by These Presents.
Long, MINDLESS, golden days OF
spring and falling cherry petals, with
cloud-piles like fieecy pillars, with
fringing palm plumes and bamboo
foliage turning from yellow cadmium
to tawny green.
Drowsy, lotos-eating days of sum-
mer among purple hills wound IN
luminous elfin haze. Days OF typhoon
and straight-falling rain. Sunsets OF
smouldering crimson and nights un-
der blue-black vault palpitating with
star swarms or waste OF turquoise,
LIQUID with tropic moonlight.
Languorous days of autumn by the
Inland sea, when the dying summers
breath fingers like the perfume OF IN
cense, and the mirroring lilac water
deepens to bishops purple.
So the mild Japanese winter comes
slowly, under a high, keen sky,
bringing at last its scourging OF dust
and wind, it's chill, Opaque nights with
their spectral fog yelling the trembling
flames of the consultations, and its
few, rare days when the evergreen
earth is covered with a blanket of
snow.
There came one such day when
Daunt stood with Barbara by the huge
stone tori at the gateway of the Mon
to temple on the Hill of the Spirit.
The air was softly radiant but not
cold, the translucent heavens tinted
with a fairy mauve, which on the hor-
lizon merged into dying hyacinth. The
camellia hedges stood like blanched
rows of crystalled beryl, the stalwart
mochi trees were cased in argent ar
NOR, and the curving porch OF the
temple, the roof of the nearby nun
merry, the forest of bronze lanters and
the square stone tablets in the grave
| ydIu Nclc CdppCu Will ooAC
mounds Of snow. 1t lay thickly over
the paved space save where wide
way had been cleared to the temple
steps, for the day was saijits, a
holy day, when the people gather to
worship.
Across the lane they could see the
chapel lifting it's white cross into the
clear blue. From it's chancel arch
was hung a crucifix Of gold lacquer,
where the declining sun, shining thru
the stained glass of the rose window
leach evening touched it to simmer,
ing color. The altar today was frag
rant with the first plum blossoms; two
hours ago the bishop, standing before
lit, had read the sacred Office which
had made them man and wife. The
carriage which was to take them tC
Shimbashi station waited now at the
end of the lane while Barbara
brought branch of the early blooms
to lay on Buddhist grave in ten
antless garden.
In one of the farther groups before
the temple steps was a miniature
rick'sha drawn by a servant. 1t held
a child who had not walked since a
might when, with clenched hands and
brave little heart, he had run into the
path of speeding motor car. On the
breast of his wadded kimono was a
knot of ribbon at which the other
children gazed with awe and wonder
1t had been pinned one night to a
small hospital shirt when the wander
ling eyes were hot with fever and the
baby face pinched and white, by a
lady whom Ishikichi had thought must
be the Sun Goddess at the very least
and before whom the attendants OF
that room of pain had bowed to the
very mats. He knew that in some dim
way, without quite knowing how, he
had helped that great, mysterious
something that meant the government
of Japan, and that he should be very
proud of it. But Ishikichi was far
prouder of the fine foreign front that
had displaced the poor little shop in
the Street of Prayer to the Gods.
Nearer the gateway, on the edge OF
the gathering, stood an old man, his
face scanned and lined, but with eye
clear and young and smile on his
face. The crest on his sleeve was the
mon of an ancient and honored sa-
mural family He leaned on the arm
of his adopted soma commander of
the imperial navy whose name had
once been Ishida Hetaro. They stood
apart, regarding not the temple, but
the low building across the hedge,
behind whose bamboo lattice dim
forms passed and repassed.
Look" said Barbara suddenly and
touched Daunt's arm. A woman's fig
ure had paused at the lattice of the
i i 1lrt