Little Sister Snow Part 5

Yuki San chose her toilet for the coming visit with due regard for all convention. There must be no touch of purple--that being the color soonest to fade made it an evil omen. She selected an _obi_ of rare brocade, the betrothal gift of Saito, the great length of which expressed the hope of an enduring marriage.

As she dressed, her mother flitted about her, chatting volubly and in such high spirits that Yuki San's heart was warmed. The elaborate trousseau had caused the little household many a sacrifice, but the joy in the hearts of the old people more than justified them.

Presently the clatter of the jinrikisha in the courtyard announced the arrival of the guest. Yuki San heard the long ceremonious greeting of her father. She saw her mother hasten away to do her part and, left alone, she sat with troubled eyes and drooping head.

The strange feeling in her heart, one moment of joy and one of pain, bewildered and frightened her. No thought of evading her duty crossed her mind, but her whole being cried out for a beautiful something she had just found, but which it was futile to hope for in her new life.

At the call of her mother, Yuki San silently pushed open the screen and made her low and graceful greeting. Custom forbidding her to take part in the conversation, she busied herself with serving the tea, listening while Saito San recounted various incidents of the picturesque court-life, or told of adventures in the recent war.

After all the prescribed topics had been discussed and the farewells had been said, Yuki San retained a vague impression of a small, middle-aged man, with many medals on his breast, who looked at her with kind, unsmiling eyes.

It was not till after the simple evening meal that Yuki San found the chance to slip away to the little upper room which had been Merrit's for two months. Nothing there had been touched, for the old mother claimed that to set a room in order too soon after a guest's departure was to sweep out all luck with him.

The girl entered and stood, a ghostly image, in the soft and tender light of the great autumn moon as it lay against the paper doors and filled the tiny room. Through the half-light Yuki San saw many touches of the late inmate's personality. A discarded tie hung limply from a hook on the wall, a half-smoked cigar and a faded white rose lay side by side on the low table.

From the garden the sad call of a night-bird, with its oft-repeated wail, seemed to voice her loneliness, and with a sob she sank upon her knees beside the cot. Long she lay in an abandonment of grief, beating futile wings against the bars of fate. At last, throwing out her arms, she touched a small object beneath the pillow. Drawing it toward her, she took it to the open _shoji_, and by the bright moonlight she saw a small morocco note-book. She puzzled over the strange figures on the first few pages, but from the small pocket on the back cover she drew forth a picture that neither confused nor surprised. It was the girl Merrit had told her about--the girl to whom he was going so joyously.

It was a face full of the gladness of life and love, whose laughing eyes looked straight into Yuki San's with such a challenge of friendship and good will that the girl smiled back at the picture and laid it gently against her warm cheek.

She sought out each detail of hair and dress as she held it for closer inspection, then replacing it in the pocket she said softly:

"He have the big, big love for you. You give him the happy. I close my heart about you."

On the back of the book in letters of gold she spelled out the strange word, "Diary." She puzzled for a moment, then she remembered where she had seen it before. The young American teacher had written in just such a book, and when she asked its meaning, the teacher had said it was her best friend, her confidant, to whom she told her secrets.

For a moment Yuki San stood with the book in her hand, then she said impulsively:

"Diary! I make diary, too. I speak my thoughts to you. I tole you all my secrets. Maybe my lonely heart will flew away."

CHAPTER VI

THE DIARY OF YUKI SAN

_First Entry_

'Merican Sensei say she have one closest friend in little book. I tell my troublesome to this little book what spells "Diary" in gold letters on back. I make it my closest friend what no never speaks the words of yours when heart overflows with several feelings. I write for Merrit San, but his eyes no must never see. Just my heart speak to his heart in that 'Merican tongue what he understands.

j.a.panese girl very naughty if she love man. She made for the take care of man's mother, man's house. Very bad for j.a.panese girl to say love when she marry with man. Merrit San say 'Merican girl speak love with eyes when lips are shame. j.a.panese girl cover the eye with little curtain when man comes. She no must peep out one little corner. No must see, no must hear, no must speak the love.

So I make little book guess my heart each day.

The happy days are pa.s.s away, and the flowers are bloom and birds will return to me again, but where can I find Merrit San? How I feel the sorry and the lonesome when I think I can't find him no more in this long island. I no can express my heart with words. I never the forget of his kindness to me.

Big lamp by Merrit San's desk no never burn so bright for me. It make funny little crooked shadow of my body on _shoji_. Merrit San's body always make big and strong black picture. I saw it last time big moon look over mountain. I took walk in garden and I thinking this time next moon Merrit San will not be here. Though the lamplight shines through the _shoji,_ still in next month the owner of the light will be different and the ache come into my heart.

Whole j.a.pan are changed, and everything I see or hear makes me think of him; but my thoughts of him never, never changed, yet more and more increase and longing for him all time. My heart speak the much word of love for Merrit San. My eyes grow shame to say it. Little book, close my secret!

_Second Entry_

ALL day many rains come down in garden. He steals flowers' sweetness and damp my heart with lonesome. Last rainy day Merrit San teached me more better English, and he laugh very long when I read the English writing with my j.a.panese tongue. He say: "Ah, Yuki San, you very funny little girl!"

Then I teach him the play of _go ban_, and he make the pain in his head with the several thoughts how he must move the black or white. He try long, long time, then he shake his big feest, and he say: "You've got me beat, little sister; you've got me sure."

I laugh, but I think much thoughts. _I_ no hurt Merrit San with beat, and girl with much laugh in her eyes have got him for surely. I no understand that funny 'Merican tongue.

Merrit San so many time call me little sister, and he say my soul all white like my name. What _is_ my soul? Ah, that same spirit what leave my body and go out 'cross that many seas to safe Merrit San's journey.

I keep that soul all purely and white all of because Merrit San call me Little Sister Snow.

One day I take Merrit San with me to very old temple. Sun, him so bright he make all leaves to dance with glad. Green lizard take sleep on stone step while big honey-bee sing song. All things have the joyful, and my feets just touch earth with lightsome.

I go inside temple and say one very little pray to Amida, for I have the hurry. When I go back, Merrit San he say:

"See here, Yuki San, you no waste time over pray. You get the trouble with that old gentleman if you have not the careful."

Then I say: "Next time I give him little money and make big smoke with incense," and he say, "Yuki, you very good girl."

Just by temple's side is little bamboo-tree which have very nice story. One good G.o.d he like this bamboo, and he like the beautiful love. He say give names of man and woman to boughs of bamboo and make the tie together with long pin of thorn. Give the low bow, and by and by the dear wish in heart will be truly.

Merrit San he no can know what I do, but he hold the high boughs of bamboo down and I name him and me and make the tie together.

The dear wish of my heart come not truly. It is full of sad.

_Third Entry_

What shall I do to less my anxious? To-day at temple I ask Buddha. He never speak. He always look far away at big sea. He no care, though tears of the heart make damp the kimono sleeve. The Christians' G.o.d I no can see. But Merrit San say he is everywhere and listens for voice of troublesome. I no can make him hear, though I say the loud prayer.

Buddha very ugly old G.o.d. Maybe him cross when he see very pretty j.a.panese girl make the low bow to him.

I believe Christians' G.o.d more better than Buddha, because Merrit San say he make everything truly. He make me, he make Merrit San, he make the beautiful love. Maybe some day that big G.o.d hear about j.a.panese girl's heart of trouble and speak the peace.

To-day one long so busy day. Many silk must be sewed into fine kimono for the when I go to live in other house. Sometimes I very glad I go to other house. I make the many comforts of my mother and my father.

To-day I see the much cold in my father's body. Very soon he have nice warm kimono with sheep's fur all inside. Then I make the glad heart, I marry with j.a.panese man.

It is getting little cold, and every night the moon is so clear. These day crickets are singing among the gra.s.ses. Those make me to think of Merrit San more and more. This fall was quite changed to me. At first Merrit San never come back to me as I expect in dreamy way. I have the feel of very helpless and lonesome. Before, though I had some trouble or unhappiness, if I saw Merrit San's smile everything was taken clear away and my heart was full with cheer and happy.

Ah, Merrit San, though it makes my cheek red with hot to write the speak, I love you most.

Buddha very naughty old G.o.d to say nothing truly is.

_Fourth Entry_

Ah, Merrit San, what you suppose I have dream last night? I was so happy that I cannot tell with my tongue nor pen. That _you_ come back!

I could no word speak out with so much glad. I had many things to tell you before I wake, but I could not even one thing.