To the Spring Equinox and Beyond Read Online Free PDF Page B

added a brief description of the various places in Manchuria he had visited. What surprised Keitaro most among these was the scene of a gambling den in Changchun. It was run by a Japanese who had once been captain of a band of bandits on horseback. Hundreds of begrimed Chinese were bustling and jostling there, all with frantic eyes, all emitting some sort of stench. The place was often secretly resorted to by wealthy townspeople deliberately clad in dirty garb. Keitaro thought that Morimoto as well had done heaven knows what there.
    Near the end of the letter Morimoto wrote about a bonsai:
That potted plum in my room is one I bought from a gardener at Dozaka. Though the tree is not very old yet, it's perfectly suitable for being looked at morning and evening on a boardinghouse windowsill. I want to present it to you as a gift, so please take it to your room. But the tree may have perished in my alcove, untended by people deficient in artistic taste. My cane at least must be in the umbrella stand on the dirt floor at the entrance. It isn't a very good cane in terms of value, but as it was one I habitually used, it's my wish that you accept it as a token from me. Even the Marten and Owl won't object to your taking it. Don't be shy. Just take it and use it.
Manchuria is an agreeable spot to live in, especially Dairen. At least for the present, there's hardly any area better where a promising youth like yourself can realize some great expectation. Why not come and live here? If you are so disposed, I think I can take care of you, for since my arrival I've become acquainted with many persons in the Manchurian Railway Company. If you do come, please don't forget to write before you start out. Sayonara.
    Keitaro folded the papers and put them into his desk drawer. But neither to the landlord nor his wife did he say anything about Morimoto's letter. The cane remained in the umbrella stand. Each time Keitaro left the house and returned, he saw it and had a queer sort of feeling about it.

  At the Streetcar Stop
    Keitaro's friend Sunaga was a soldier's son who nevertheless detested the military. He had majored in law, yet had no interest in civil service or business. He was a rather backward type, at least he seemed so to Keitaro. The father, Keitaro had heard, had been dead these many years, leaving Sunaga and his mother to live an apparently lonely yet tasteful life together. His father had not only reached the high position of army paymaster, but was clever at accumulating funds, so that even now his wife and son were well-off and had none of those discomforts that come with making a living. Sunaga's tendency to lead a retired life was probably half due to the security in which he had been raised, and perhaps it resulted in depriving him of the stimulus of self-exertion. This was shown by the fact that when some of his respectable and helpful relatives were ready, out of respect for the elevated position of his deceased father, to offer help in placing Sunaga in a position that promised a successful career, he remained willful, indulging himself by finding fault with the posts offered and remaining undecided about the course of his life.
    "You're too particular. And you're wasting some good opportunities. If you don't like the jobs, at least hand one over to me," Keitaro occasionally importuned Sunaga, half in jest. Sunaga would refuse with a slight smile of sorrow and pity, saying, "Well, unfortunately, they're not being offered to you." Even while knowing he had asked in jest, Keitaro was not pleased by the rejection. His pride flared up, and he told himself he would do everything alone. Still, his temperament was not one that adhered that much to a triviality to maintain any lasting antagonism toward his friend. Furthermore, with his own position still undecided and with no real connections to fall back on, Keitaro could not bear the dreariness of sitting in his boardinghouse room from morning till night. Even when he had