Bloomington High School - Aepix Yearbook (Bloomington, IL)

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THE AEGIS the mist we were startled by a wizened face peering through, and as the rest of the body appeared we saw a tiny shriveled blackened man, a charcoal burner, who had his ,hut near by. He brought us a cup of tea and we gladdened his heart by a few sen and passed on. ' We could begin to see through the mist now, to the tops of the mountains, that looked blue in the distance, and then as we got a little lower, the evergreens changed to a long avenue of eryptomeria. The road was strewn with delicate pink blossoms, and the air was so fragrant that we wondered where it came from until We saw, high up in the branches of the cryptomeria, numberless orchids which were responsible for the petals and the fragrance. The coolies were hastening to the end of their road now and as we drew nearer we could hear the temple bell and soon could see the lake. Passing under the stone Lorii fgatewayj we saw, as we passed the last bit of rough scenery, a hugh idol, Kwannon, cut from living rock out of the side of the cliff, and some peasant women with their offerings laid at her feet. She is the patron goddess of women, and is represented in many different ways, throughout Japan. The village now spread before us, in one long wavy line along the lake, and as we entered it the sun was sinking at its farther end, spreading its rays over the water and tinging the sober thatched roofs of the cottages a bright orange. The fresh woody smell from the wood-carver's cottage mingled with the orchid's frag- rance, and when we entered Hakone at sunset, Fuji brokfe from her mists to give us one glorious glimpse of promise of the coming pleasures. DICKENS AND JERRY CRUNCHER MARION AUSTIN. . Dickens, desire when he wrote A Tale of Two Cities was not to have a book of jokes nor a light romance, but a book of careful thought, deep and intricate plots and true historical events. But in order to relieve the strain on the mind of the readgr, he has put in many very humorous touches that readily appeal to one. From the time when Jerry Cruncher gallops up to the Dover mail that Friday night in November, one thousand seven hundred and seventy-iive, until we reluc- tantly leave him, going out of Paris with Miss Pross, he is the source of much amusement. He is described as having a very hoarse voice, a very spiky head and very' rusty finger-tips. Everything he says is more or less ridiculous. He has a great tendency to tangle up his sentences, especially when excited and has his own ideas about the proper pronunciation of certain words. For example, he lovingly styles his wife an aggera.wayter, and believes that the year' of our Lord is called Anna Dominoesfl named for the lady who invented that popular game. Like Sam Weller, he always pronounces uv as NW. The characters of Dickens are usually recognized by some individual attribute or action. Mr. Cruncher is always known by his spikly head, Miss Pross by her energy and her strong right arm, and Mr. Stryver by his perpetual shouldering. Thus when we are introduced to the home life of Jerry Cruncher, the first thing 23

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THE AEGIS her mouth. Nor did she relish the raw fish, but our obliging maid brought her two tiny bantam eggs to cook over the alcohol lamp. Lunch over, we went out to where coolies were waiting with our kagos. Our friend was surprised at seeing the vehicle, in which she was to ride up the mountains, resembling a large clothes basket, a pole through the handles, a roof over the pole, the sides cut away, and the ends and bottom cushioned. However, she managed to squeeze in as the rest did, the coolies lifted the poles to their shoulders, and we started off down the old Tokaido road. Hakone, our destination, was a little one-street village, full of tiny thatched houses, way up in the mountains, at one end of a large lake, with hot springs across the hills and a summer palace of the Mikado nearby, a most delightfully retired spot to spend a hot Japanese summer. We expected to row, fish, swim, tramp through nearby temple-groves, picnic, and fbest of allj to get up in the morning, and, looking out across the glittering waters of the lake to see Fujiyama, snow-capped and majestic, the pride of Japan. . Our coolies were jogging along the old road, which in this early May was already crowded with a luxuriant growth of wild flowers-top-heavy delicately tinted pink and white lilies, fragrant phlox, backed by a magnificent glow of mag- nolias and camilias and a mass of pine. A turn in the road suddenly brought to our view a party of returning coolies, with empty Ycagos, and as they stopped to talk with our men, we learned that there was a matsuri ffestivalj in the next village and tha.t by hurrying, we could see the procession as they left the village for the temple. We hastened onward and at length were richly rewarded. The whole village was on parade, banners floating, children waving huge branches of cherry and wild plum blossoms, in stately procession with their elders, the big drum beating a monotonous rumble. None stayed at home. We could still see the head of the procession where the white haired old priest led the way, some coolies from a neighboring town had returned home for the matsuri, the grandam, crippled with rheumatism, hobbled after on her crutch, a clean blue towel knotted around her head, and her blackened teeth showing through a twisted smile, a. pilgrim with his bell and staff was there, too, and Hnally all the little nurse maids of the village in gala array, their charges strapped on their backs, thc babies contentedly sucking either their thumbs or the holiday share of mikan. Fol- lowing the procession, surrounding it and mingling with it were the inevitable mongrel curs of the East. While this crowd filed by, we stayed and watched and did not continue our journey until they were left in the depths of the forest and the lone cottages were left standing in the bare sunlight, with their prim scarlet poppy beds, and the lilies on the thatched roofs nodding at us. We plunged into heavy tropical forest now, and wild scenery delighted our eyes. To the right the cliffs towered above the trees, while to the left there was a deep ravine through which a tumbling, foaming mountain rivulet ran, the little pools along its banks showing thc purple blossoms of the iris and the flaming red azaleas on its banks. All this was left behind soon, and as we still climbed, the mists began to surround. us and soon only a. few feet could be seen on either side of the road, which was now flanked by evergreens. As we made our way through 22

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F , 4. THE AEGIS 1 we see is his spiky hair, 'flocking as if it must tear the sheets to ribbons, as he rolls and surges in his bed. His morning sa.lutation to his wife is, 'tBust me, if she aint at it againlt' Jerry thinks it his great misfortune to have a wife who prays, or flops as he calls it. He insists that she is Hopping agin the business and when she pro- tests that she is not praying against but for him, he says he wont be took the liberty with. He is comically inconsistent, for he violently forbids his wife to pray, putting great faith in the direful things he thinks will result, yet scornfully asks her what she supposes her prayers may be worth. At the breakfast table when poor Mrs. Cruncher asks a blessing, Mr. Cruncher shows his temper and declares he aint ageing to be blessed out of house and home. He won,t have his wittles blest off his table. He fondly calls himself an honest tradesmanw and prides himself on his con- nection with the great Tellson's, a connection which consists merely in sitting out- side waiting for errands. Dickens says that big Jerry and his son, little Jerry, a grisly youth with a head garnished with tenderer spikes than his fa.ther's, as they sat there, bore a considerable resemblance to a pair of monkeys. This was especially so since the elder Jerry kept chewing straw, upon which young Jerry, when his father leaves, entered his reversiona.ry interest, -Dickens, imposing way of saying that little Jerry chewed the other end of the same straw! Mr. Cruncher is always so very sure that he can make misleading remarks that will not cause any suspicion about his nightly occupation,-which at differ- ent times he calls 'ffishingfi 'fscientific business, and that of an f'agricultooral char- acter,',-that it is easy to see he is trying to hide something. When one of the old clerks at Tellson's asks him if he knows Old Bailey, the court, he denies as an honest tradesman,', and is much concerned about the barbarous and quartering fashion of punishing treason. 'flt's hard in the law to spile a man, I think. lt's hard enough to kill him but it's wery hard to spile him, sirf, The night of the thunder storm when Mr. Lorry and Jerry were going home together, Jerry makes another of his deep remarks. f4What a night it has been! Almost a. night, Jerry, said Mr. Lorry, 'fto bring the dead out of their graves. Jerry virtuously replies, I never see the night myself, master,-nor yet I don't expect to,-what would do thatf, Such a pious speech for one whose Khonest businessf' was robbing graves! Je-rry gives a touch of humor to the grim trial of Da.rnay in London, with his curiosity and many questions. Dickens says that when Carton went to tell Darnay of the welfare of Lucy, Jerry followed him, 'fall eyes, ears and spikes. As he sat day after day in front of Tellsonts, Mr. Cruncher derived a. small part of his income from the pilotage of timid women from Tellson's side of the street trafhc to the opposite sidewalk. Dickens, in his long round-about way, says that 'Cbrief as such companionship was in every separate instance, Mr. Cruncher never failed to become so interested in the lady as to express a. strong desire to have the honor of drinking her very good health. And it was from the gifts bestowed upon him towards the execution of this benevolent purpose that he re- cruited his finances. 24