Emmerich Manual High School - Ivian Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

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be instrumental in the downfall of her father ' s house. How could he do it ? And yet he must, for was he not of the Samurai, who for a thousand years had never failed the Mikado ? In such a frame of mind Korin proceeded to the Red Maple Gardens of Nagoli. He cautiously approached their trysting place, a shinjio among the moon flowers. Setsu, Assam ' s maid, was there, but the little Japanese princess was not. For the first time she had failed him. She had accompanied her father to the red bamboo forest, so Setsu said. All the pride of his long line of Samurai ancestry asserted itself. He would report the night review of the Kwannian soldiers, would enter the guarded palace and be present at the Feast of a Hundred Visitors . Thus he planned the downfall of Nagoli and his people, all because of the unfaithfulness of Assani. Firmly determined in his resolve, Prince Korin hurriedly left the gardens and hastened to the Red Bamboo Forest to the ruined shrine of Kwannon. He had not proceeded far when he saw long files of marching soldiers, by the glare of their lighted torches. He cautiously entered a bamboo grove near the ruined shrine. Night fires gleamed fantastically and threw weird shadows over the silent, marching soldiers. The brightness of the fire at first temporarily blinded the watching Samurai. Then becom- ing accustomed to the strange play of the firelight he observed three silent figures stand- ing near the ruined altar. The foremost of the three was Nagoli, erect and handsome, with his eyes fixed on the silent marchers. Zakkuri, the war minister, was the second. The third was the lovely Assani. She leaned against the stones of the once beautiful temple of Kwannon, but her attitude expressed indifference to her surroundings. Ever and anon she raised her lovely face, pale and listless in the fitful firelight. He winced instinctively when he thought of his treacherous plans to deceive her people. The lovely face in the firelight moved him strangely. A fierce short struggle between his love and the honor of the Samurai battled within him. In the end, it was the same old story. Since the days of the gods Water flows the same, Love goes the same. Korin decided. He would lose both or win both. With a swift bound he landed squarely in front of Nagoli and placed his sword over the heart of the Japanese prince, uttering at the same time the low dread call of the Samurai, Old Japan and Samur. forever. Assani started and gazed bewildered at the Samurai prince. Zakkuri shuddered and fell fear-stricken in a heap. Nagoli alone moved not. The tramping of the silent soldiers continued. Slowly the handsome Nagoli spoke, You are indeed bold, Samurai! The answer came quickly, Not so, noble prince. One thrust and thou art in the land of souls, one bound and I am gone through this grove to his imperial majesty Tori to report that the leader of the Kwannians is dead. Be sensible, worthy prince, dis- §

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A Tale of Old Japan BN the days of the early seventies, Old Japan was governed by the first Christian S Wj Mikado, Tori. His body-guard was the faithful band of the Samurai, led by iril tne valiant Prince Korin, strongest-of-the-strong. Migaku, gatherer-of-news, and Tacho, teller-of-who-comes-and-who-goes, were among the Samurai- Now it so happened that these three men were descendants of the body-guard of the first Mikado, one thousand years ago, and as such, deserved the unre- strained confidence placed in them by his imperial majesty, Tori. A few years after the beginning of Tori ' s reign, murmurings of revolt against the imperial government came to the knowledge of Migaku. The one remaining people of Japan who refused to adopt the Christian religion were the Kwannians. The Mikado Tori had been unjust to them, had persecuted the worship of their protectress, the beautiful Goddess Kwannon, had crushed her shrines and ruined her temples. Their love for their deity had been degraded. Revenge should come to the Kwannians, for Nagoli, their prince, had said it. Kwanni is an island scarcely an arrows flight from the nor ' .h shore of old Japan. It was evident that the inhabitants were preparing for war. Night revelries in the red bamboo forest were frequent, for so Tacho reported to his imperial majesty, Tori. Migaku discovered from a Kwanni fisherman that on the night of the next full moon Prince Nagoli and his war minister, Zakkun, would hold a review of their soldiers. A ruined shrine of the goddess Kwannon in the red bamboo forest would be the meeting place. Later in the evening Nagoli was to give the annual Feast of a Hundred Visitors in his great palace hall. Here Nagoli ' s most trusty counselors would come and they would plan for war. The Mikado Tori sent Prince Korin, leader of his faithful Samurai, to the island of Kwanni. It was his perilous task to watch the night review of Nagoli ' s soldiers and to report the plans made at the Feast of a Hundred Visitors. Korin had little difficulty in crossing over to the beautiful island. The golden sun of old Japan was sinking in the celestial heavens just as the prince reached the shore. It was the night of the review of the soldiers, and Korin passed swiftly through the red bamboo forest and hurried to the palace of Nagoli. It was fast growing dark, but the hour of the Ox, the appointed time of the review, was far removed. However, Prince Korin was not thinking of Nagoli ' s soldiers, for he had something far more important — a tryst in the Red Maple Gardens of Nagoli ' s palace. Assani, daughter of Nagoli, was a beautiful girl of eighteen summers. She was as fair as the goddess Kwannon and the daintiest maid in the Kingdom of old Japan. Korin had met the beautiful Assani at the Festival for the Foreign Embassies given by his Imperial Highness, Tori, two years previous. The two had loved from the first meeting and the pnncely Korin had since kept a tryst -every change of the moon with his princess in the Red Maple Gardens of Nagoli ' s palace. Nagoli ' s hatred of the Mikado and his Samurai alone kept them from declaring their love. And now what a trick for fate to play ! Korin, the betrothed of Assani, must spy on her people, must

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peace with the Mikado and accept the Christian religion in thy province. Lastly, tonight at the ' Feast of the Hundred Visitors I would have thy daughter in marriage. Quick, worthy prince ; life or death, which is it ? ' X ryS m ' rirvm Assam sprang noiselessly between the two. O father, Prince Nagoli, 1 would have it so, for he is my betrothed. Silently the moon shines on the ruined shrines of Goddess Kwannon. No noise of tramping soldiers nor of clashing arms disturbs the peace of the red bamboo forest. In the great hall of Nagoli ' s palace ther e is the sound of revelry. Cries of Samurai, Kwanni and Old Japan forever ! break the stillness of the night outside. Setsu, in the shinjio among the moon flowers, patiently awaits the coming of her mistress, Assani. Little does she think that the beautiful Japanese girl is Assani no longer, but Princess Konn of the faithful Samurai. Carl Adam, ' 06. Eng. VII. ?py A Day of Spring DAY of Spring is here. With joy it thrills. The sunshine gleams, the morning seems to smile, The trees, all pink and white, sway on the hills, And far and near the birds call all the while. This fragrant day we read from Tennyson, And with the happy lotus-eaters stray ; Rejoice with Lancelot o ' er glories won. Oh ! it is thus because our hearts are gay. A long, long day is done and darkness falls. The sky is dark ; the winds strange memories bring, And in the world cold duty calls and calls. The birds that sang that joyful day forget to sing, On such a night we dare not read from books; The songs of bards are discord to our ears, We hear not words that sound like laughing brooks. ' Tis thus, because our hearts are filled with fears. Dorothea Gilray, ' 06. Eng. VII. tkCL q f .