Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1911-02-24

THE FORGOTTEN MAN.
Barbara pushed open the bamboo gate
of the temple garden, then paused. The
recluse with whom she had talked yes
terday sat little way inside while be-
fore him, in an attitude of deepest at
tention, stood the diminutive figure on
the huge clogs whose morning acquaint-
ance she had made from her window.
Thorn was looking at him earnestly with
his great myopir eye, through heavy
glass mounted with handle like a lor-
gnette.
my son." he said, why will you per-
sist in eating anne, when l have taught
you the classics and the true divinity of
the universe? 1t is too sweet for youth
full teeth. One of these, days you will
be carried to dentist, an esteemed per-
son with horrible tools, prior to the re-
moval of small hell, containing several
myriads of lost souls, from the left side
of your lower jawl'
Barbara's foot grated on a pebble and
he rose with a startled quickness. The
youngster bent double, his face prefer
naturally grave Thorn thrust the glass
into his sleeve and smiled.
II am experimenting on this orienta
raw material" he said, ito illustrate
certain theories of my own. Ishkichi-
San, though slave to the sweet-meat
write forty Chinese characters and re-
cite ten texts of Mencius. He also
knows many damnable facts about fig
ures which they teach in school He has
Just propounded a question that Con
fucius was too wise to answer: Why
is poverty?' Not being so wise as the
Chinese sage, 1 attempted its calculation
Thus endeth our lesston today, Ishkichi.
Sayonara.'
Barbara looked after him smilingly.
us Ishkichi in straitened circumstances?
Or is his bent political economy"
His father has been i'll for a long
time" Thorn replied. "He keeps shop,
and in some way the child has heard
that they will have to give 1t up. 1t
troubles him, for he can't imagine exist
ence without it"
What pity! would be so glad to
do you think l could give them some
thing?"
He shook his head. After you have
been here while, you will find that
simple charity in Japan is not apt To
be a welcome thing"
IT am beginning to understand al
ready" she said, as they walked along
the stepping-stones, that these gentle
hammered people do not lack the sterrer
qualities. Yet how they grace themi
The iron-hand is here, but it has the
velvet glove. Courtesy and kindness
seem almost religion with them
More he answered. This is the
only country I have seen in the world
whose people, when I walk the street,
do not seem to notice that l am dis
figured"
She made no pretense of misunder-
standing. Believe me" she said gently.
1t is no disfigurepent. But I under
stand. My father lived all his life in
the dread of blindness"
faint sound came from him. She
was aware, without lifting her eyes to
his, that he was staring at her strange
ly.
"All his life. Then your father is
not living?''
e died before I was born"
She glanced at him as she spoke, for
his tone had been muffled- and indis-
tinct There was a deep furrow in his
forehead which she had not seen be-
fore.
do you look like him?'
.No, he was dark. I am like my
mother"
Thorn was looking away from her.
toward the lane, where beyond the
hedge, a man was passing, half-singing,
matchmaking to himself in a repressed.
sepulchral voice.
my mother died, too, when 1 was a
little girl" she added, $50 know really
very little about him."
She was looking out across the wide
space where the roofs sank out of sight
to the foliaged slope of Aoyama. Sud-
denly thrill, a curiously complex mo-
ton, ran over her. Above those far
tree-tops, sailing in slow, sweeping. con-
centric circles, she saw a great machine.
like a gigantic vulture. She knew in
stantly what it was, and there flashed be-
fore her the memory of a day at Fort
Logan when a brave young lieutennt
had crashed to death before her eyes in
a shattered aeroplane.