Central High School - Mirror Yearbook (Birmingham, AL)

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li was a glorious morn in Japan. Elizabeth Downclle rose early and stepped out into the dewy freshness of an Oriental day so that she might appreciate more deeply the beauties of this foreign land. The night before had been so strange that it seemed almost a dream. And it was all so beautiful— so gloriously, wonderfully beautiful. Even now the vision of lavender kimonos and wistaria parasols rose before her charmed eyes. She marveled at the abundance of low, graceful bunches of lavender blossoms and felt that she had been transported into a veritable fairyland. She took occasion at the breakfast table to mention the profuseness of wistaria. ‘ I knew you would like it. dear, replied her sister-in-law. “There’s a story connected with it all. You’ll love that too, Elizabeth. “And when will you tell this romance to me? 1 presume it is romantic, tor it seems to me that everything in Japan must be. “It is. Hut 1 shall not tell the story at all. There is a little widow in that house on the hill—you can see it from the window. She is the daintiest piece of Japanese womanhood imaginable. Go up there today. I told her you were coming and site is anxious to know you. Perhaps you will become such friends that she herself will tell you her story. Accordingly it was quite early that Elizabeth set out for the house on the hill. hat a picture the little widow made beneath her cherry tree! Near her the boy was playing and she was talking t » him softly in Japanese. She was painting. Around her were lanterns and parasols but they were not of the dainty lavender tints for as yet each waited its turn to come under the magic hand that turned it into a glowing mass of wistaria. Elizabeth could not speak Japanese but she knew the language of the heart, so pausing before the little figure she smiled. That was all. To her surprise the conversation was immediately opened in halting English which was nevertheless the most charming she had ever heard, for the words were accompanied with the sweetest of answering smiles. ‘‘You lady from over the sea? You com’ see Otakara an’ me. Speak for lady, Otakara. And she turned to the child who played beside her. He was quite a baby so he could not put his reply into words but he too smiled and gurgled happily. Delighted. Elizabeth stooped down to pick him up. “Why, his eyes are blue!” Vacs—purple, lik unto wisteeria. He ladder com’ from vour country— way ofT. “America? “Vacs,—Amer-ceka. An he lofc Japan. He artecste—tnak’ ver’ pretty picture. He teach me thees—an'-an’ thees—” She touched the gaily colored papers at her side and swung a parasol behind her. It made a charming background for her delicately flushed face. She half smiled, half sighed. Me an’ Otakara. we ver’ happy. We live lik that. We paint an’ sell thees. We ver' much artecste. me an Otakara.” Oh. cried the girl impulsively. “I shall buy so many—so many.” “A-a-ah how that is nizc.” Elizabeth liked to hear her say the Japanese names. His name is pretty. And yours, what is it?” Multijuga, it mean wis-tecr-ia. Otakara mean treasure ship.” Wistaria. How beautiful! And do you know, it is just like you.” 19

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Flower Stories “WISTARIA (A Japanese Fantasy.) Sleep little piget » an I fold your wings,- Little blue pigeon with velvet eyes; Sleep to the singing oi mother bird swinging. Swinging the nest where her little one li A-a-ah. He sleep. He v r’ happy now. Sleep, Otakara, sleep. The dainty little wisp of a mother leaned lovingly over the unconscious child and caressed his soft brown check a delicately as the south wind kissed the cherry blossoms outside. “Away out yonder I see a star,— Silvery star with a tinkling song; To the soft dew falling. I hear it calling. Calling and tinkling the night along. A-a-ah, he mos beau'ful star, Otakara. Mebc you see him in your dream. Dream ver' hard, t )takara. See the robin how he mak he nest an' speak to he mate, lie ver happy, Otakara. An we - we ver’ happy too.” In through the window a nioonbcun comes.— Little gold moonbeam with misty wings; All silently creeping it asks. ‘Is he sleeping— Sleeping and dreaming while mother sings? I IF AXDOX was lighted hut the mother rose anti extinguished it. She drew the shoji and lay dow n on her strange bed that he. too, might dream of the silver star. Still was the night, except for the sighs of a perfumed breeze. At the foot of the hill there were lighted lanterns, all daintily painted in w ist iria and there were many nourishes of parasols of the same d sign bv lavender-gowned Geisha girls who added to the gaiety with their dancing. There was much merry-making at the consulate tonight, celebrating the ar rival of a girl from over the sea. The silver beams of the moon glimmered across the bay and the great black hulk of a steamer rose in sharp outline against theVhmdless horizon. And there was light on the clusters of bushes that bordered the narrow path on the side «»f the hill and on the single robin nest in the cherry tree. The wistaria lanterns continued to burn and so did the silver star while the little lantern-maker in her nest on the hill sang her lullaby. 18

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They became great friends, those two. Each day of that wonderful visit to the magic blast the American girl went up the hill to sit beneath the cherry tree with the little lady of Japan. It seemed an enchanted life. But as yet she had not heard the story and the time for her departure was already here. In truth, it was but one clay off. Perhaps Wistaria would tell her before she left. She hoped so. and she did not hope in vain. It was the evening before she left. They were watching the speck of a ship on the bay, far distant, silhouetted against the glory of a radiant sunset sky. The majesty and yet the daintiness of the scene, two things which it seemed could not belong together, impressed Elizabeth. It is very beautiful—the picture—is it not, Wistaria' ' A-a-ah, 1 lik if you call me that, lie call me that— is-tcer-ia. It sounded like the breath « f a flower, she whispered it » softly. aes, it ver beau'ful. He love it. lie say the.es mos' wonderful church, and sun he 1110s greatest wor-shipp-per of God. e v er' happy. Him an’ )takara an —an me. “You must have been. And look, W istaria. see the ship. Does it not seem almost like a phantom?” With a child-like movement she covered her eyes and uttered a sound that w as almost a sol). ‘Wo—no. Don't—an —an oh. I like if you know. I tell you? aes. 1 tell you. He go one da for paint the sea -a-ah. I hate the sea! He roar, he tear, the sea does. But he go out one day for paint him an he say he com’ back that night, -a-ah yaes, but he never com’ back. Sea get ver’ angry at being paint an’ rise up ver' terrible, an' nios’ high ladder of ( takara. he—he dead. There was a tense silence. The little lavender figure was very quiet. Then----- But me an’ Otakara. we don’ forget, cvcry night we pray in same church where mos’ August Sun worship an’ there one star -see. sec—he com’ now! It seem he there. Wo dream of silver star.” Two moist, slanting eves were raised t«» Elizabeth and in their velvet depths, she saw the love and reverence for the “silvery star with a tinkling song.” “Som' day I lik if Otakara be in United States. He goin’ learn United States languages too. You gnin’ home torn rp w. • u n • forget istaria.” “Indeed I shall not.” replied the girl fervently,” and I shall remember Otakara too.—always, for he is our treasure ship. She kissed the little figures at her side. The next day just at sunset her. ship moved out of the bay. She was on her way to cross the sea. She watched from the deck and saw the little lantern-maker and Otakara. The mother leaned over him singing her Japanese lullaby and above them the silver star came out. Evm after she was out of sight of land, Elizabeth could still see the star, and leaning hack in her chair, she quoted softly to he’rself. “Up from the sea there floats a sob.— Of the waves that are breaking upon the shore: As though they were groaning in anguish an I moanin ’. Bemoaning the ship that shall come no more. 20