35

V.

THE SACRIFICE OF O'TERU SAN.

May 1904.

A BOY and girl sat on a steep grass slope in a Japanese garden. The boy, who wore the apron affected by students, was talking earnestly-far too earnestly for his years, we in the West would have thought. The girl, whose kimono and paper sunshade formed the only coloured relief to a background of fresh emerald green, was listening with downcast eyes.

"It is no use, O'Teru San," the youth said, almost mournfully; "I shall have to work like a common coolie, for we have not the money to continue my education." The maid offered no comment to this statement, and the boy continued the recital

of his troubles. "It is very, very hard,"

he said, "that I should have come from a family of princes, and have now to do menial work in order that I may live,perhaps even be obliged to serve foreigners in some low capacity, and profess myself obedient to people whom I despise. To think of it, O'Teru San! from to-morrow I shall go to the College no more, and from the next day will be apprenticed to an artisan. I, who, as befits one of my station, next year was to go to the military school to become an officer; and now, just because my father has speculated badly in some foreign enterprise, I must give up all thought of the future and live in the present a coolie !"

The youth cast himself over on his side, and although his companion did not look up, yet she knew that his brown eyes had filled with tears. There was a brief silence, during which Teru San was making up her

mind. Although to our Western ideas she was but a child, yet here in the East those whom we would still opine children have, in their teens, reached a mental state which we call maturity. The cruel fate which seemed about to ruin her companion's ambitions hurt her as deeply as if a bann had been placed upon herself. She also had her own ambitions. But her hopes

for the future were bound

up in the success or failure of this youthful student who had been in her life ever since she could remember. Personally, also, she did not wish to be the wife of a carpenter or a 'ricksha coolie.

"Is there no way?" she said; "will not your relations do something for you?" She turned and put her hand upon the shoulder of the prostrate student. He shook his head mournfully. In a moment the girl made up her mind. "Then Teru San will do something for you. O'Tanaka San, go

back to the school to-morrow. I will find the money."

There was a grand entertainment at the Mitsui Club. The resident members of this great and exclusive family were giving a farewell send-off to a batch of officers of the Imperial Guard who were due to leave Tokyo on the following morning to join the transports collected in the Inland Sea. For the purpose of this entertainment the ten most popular Geishas in Tokyo had been retained.

The evening was half-way through, and the young men, grouped in easy attitudes around the room, were satiated with the ordinary efforts at female dancing. "Where is O'Teru San?" somebody shouted; others took up the cry and clapped their hands. A screen at the far end of the room was pushed aside; the little frail figure appeared in the opening. It was Teru San. She fell on her knees and bowed to the

ground, as is the etiquette on such occasions. Then she stood up in all her glory of gold and grey. A perfect round of applause greeted her, for at the

moment she

was the idol of young Tokyo. Even to the European estimate she was beautiful,—to young Tokyo, peerless. She glided in to the centre of the room, radiant in the knowledge of her success, magnificent in the blending colours of her finery, and she danced as young Tokyo had never seen a Geisha dance before. Her figure finished, she stepped down among the audience and gracefully acknowledged the congratulations which were heaped upon her. Surely this girl was happy, if the happiness of a Geisha is to be judged by popularity. Daintily she took the little china cups which were offered her; modestly she pressed them to her lips, just tasting the contents. Then they pleaded with her to dance again. All smiles, she retired to the stage, and gave a representation in grace