Captain June

  CHAPTER VI

  ONE morning several weeks later, June was lying on his back in thegarden wishing he had someone to play with. Toro was away at school andSeki San was having her hair dressed. He had watched the latterperformance so many times that it had ceased to interest him. Seki wouldsit for hours on a white mat before the old hair-dresser who combed, andlooped and twisted the long oily strands into butterfly bows of shiningblack.

  The only person on the premises who was at leisure was Tomi, but thatwas just the trouble, he was so much at leisure that he refused to stirfrom his warm spot on the sunny steps no matter how much June coaxed. Tobe sure there was a yellow cat next door, but she did not understandEnglish as Tomi did, and when June called her, she humped her back andwould have ruffled her tail if she had had one, but Japanese cats do nothave tails, so when they get angry they always look disappointed.

  Just as June was getting a bit lonesome the postboy came trotting inwith a letter for Seki San and June ran in to take it to her.

  "For me?" said Seki San, looking very comical with one loop of blackhair hanging over her eye, "from Meester Carre? I sink it is a mistake,I do not know Meester Carre."

  "Read it," demanded June impatiently.

  "It say," went on Seki San slowly, "that Meester Carre is not able towrite hisself but he desire the writer to ask me will I permit thelittle American boy to come to see him to-day. He is sick on the bed,and have the low spirit. He will keep safe care of the little boy andsend him home what time I desire."

  "Oh, let me go, Seki! Please let me go!" cried June.

  "But who is Meester Carre?"

  "He is the Frenchman," said June. "He is a soldier and has got therheumatism. He has goldfish too, and a sword. Oh Seki, please let me go!Oh, do let me go!"

  "Ah yes," said Seki, "one leg is shorter than the other leg and he walkswith sticks, and he has long white whiskers on his lip, ah! yes, Iknow."

  "Can I go?" begged June.

  Seki San took a long while to think about it. She consulted her motherand the old man next door, and the doctor who lived at the corner, butby and by she came back and said he could go.

  "I will send you in good Tanaka's 'rikisha, he will take good care ofyou and bring you back at tiffin time."

  June was greatly excited over the prospect and stood unusually stillwhile Seki San buttoned him into a starchy white blouse and pinned ascarlet flower in his buttonhole.

  "Can't I pin my flag on too?" he begged, and Seki, who could not bear torefuse him anything, fastened the bit of red, white and blue silk on theother side.

  "Now keep your body still," cautioned Seki San as she put him in thejinrikisha and gave final instructions to Tanaka who was bowing andgrinning and bowing again, "Tanaka will wait for you, and you must comewhen he calls you. Be good little boy! _Sayonara!_"

  June had never felt so important in his life. To be going out all byhimself in a jinrikisha was quite like being grown up. The only thinglacking to make him quite happy was a pair of reins that he mightimagine he was driving a horse instead of a little brown man with fatbare legs and a big mushroom hat who looked around every few moments tosee if he was falling out.

  They trotted along the sunny streets, passing the temple grounds wherethe green and red Nio made ugly faces all the day, and where the greedypigeons were waiting for more corn. They passed over the long bridge,skirted the parade ground, then went winding in and out of narrowstreets until they came to a stretch of country road that ran beside amoat.

  Here there was less to see and June amused himself by repeating the fewJapanese words he had learned. "Ohayo" meant "good-morning," and it wasgreat fun to call it out to the children they passed and see them bowand call back "Ohayo" in friendly greeting. He knew another word too, itwas "Arigato," and it meant "thank you." He used it on Tanaka every timehe stopped by the wayside to pluck a flower for him. Once when theyrested June saw a queer old tree, with a very short body and very longarms that seemed to be seeing how far they could reach. June thought thetree must have the rheumatism, for it was standing on crutches, and hadknots on its limbs just like Monsieur had on his fingers. But thestrange part of it was that from nearly every branch fluttered a smallstrip of paper with something written on it. June had seen this beforeon other trees, and he remembered that Seki San had told him that theselittle papers were poems hung there when the tree was covered withcherry blossoms.

  Now June always wanted to do everything anybody else did, so when theystarted off again, he decided that he would make up a poem to hang onthe tree as they came back. He knew one that he had learned from a bigboy coming over on the steamer, and he said it over softly to himself:

  "King Solomon was the wisest man; He had some ready cash, The Queen of Sheeny came along And Solly made a mash."

  To be sure he didn't understand at all what it meant, but it soundednice and funny and always made him laugh.

  "I'd like to make up one out of my own head though," he thought, and hesat so still that Tanaka glanced back uneasily.

  It was a very hard matter indeed, for when you write a poem you have toget two words that sound alike, and then find something to write aboutthem. It took him so long that by the time he finished, the shaft of thejinrikisha came down with a jerk and he looked up to find that they hadstopped in front of a house all smothered in vines, with two inquisitivelittle windows peering out like eyes behind a tangle of hair. Everythingabout the place looked poor and neglected.

  As June and Tanaka made their way up the path, June gave an exclamationof delight. There about the door were bowls and jars and basins ofgoldfish. Every available receptacle had been pressed into service, andbig fish and tiny ones in every shade of radiant gold swam gaily aboutin the sunshine.

  It was such an engrossing sight that June almost forgot to go in andspeak to Monsieur who lay in a bed, near the door.

  "Ah, at last," cried the sick man. "My little friend is welcome. There,sit in the chair. Though I am poor, I live like a gentleman. See, I havea bed and chairs and a table!"

  June looked about the shabby crowded room, at the dusty flag of Francethat was draped over the window, at the map of France that was pinned onthe wall beside the bed, at the cheap pictures and ornaments and thesoiled curtains, then he remembered Seki San's room, clean and sweet andairy with nothing in it but a vase of flowers.

  "I'd rather sit on the floor," he said as he took his seat beside thebed, adding immediately, "I can stay until twelve o'clock!"

  Tanaka had gone to take a bath after his warm run and to drink tea atthe little tea-house across the road.

  Monsieur lay propped up in bed with his bandaged hands lying helpless onthe cover-lid. But his eyes were soft and kind, and he had so manyinteresting things to talk about that June found him a most entertaininghost. After he had shown June his sword and told a wonderful story aboutit, he returned to the goldfish.

  "Alas, there are but twenty-one now," he sighed. "Napoleon Bonapartedied on Sunday. Have you seen the Grand Monarch? He is the greatshining fellow in the crystal bowl. Those smaller ones are hisgentlemen-in-waiting. Here is Marie Antoinette, is she not mostbeautiful?"

  June was introduced to every one in turn and had endless questions toask in regard to the story of each. Monsieur was the only person he hadever met who always had another story on hand. Everything suggested astory, a story was hidden in every nook and corner of Monsieur's brain,they fairly bubbled over in their eagerness to be told, and June was asgreedy for more as the pigeons were greedy for corn, and he thought upnew questions while the old ones were getting answered.

  Once Monsieur recited something in verse to him, and that reminded Juneof his own poem.

  "I made up one coming," he announced, "do you want to hear it?"

  Monsieur did. Monsieur was very fond of verse, so June recited it withevident pride:

  "Oh Gee!" said the tree, "It seems to me That under my branches I see
a bee!"

  "Bravo!" said Monsieur, "you will be a poet and a soldier too!"

  "I'd like to write it down," said June, "so I can hang it on the tree."

  "To be sure, to be sure," said Monsieur, "you will find pen and ink inthe table drawer. Not that!" he cried sharply as June took out a longsealed envelope. "Give that to me!"

  June handed the packet to Monsieur in some wonder and then continued hissearch.

  "Here's a corkscrew," he said, "and some neckties, and a pipe. Here'sthe pen! And may I use this fat tablet?"

  When the materials were collected, June stretched himself at full lengthon the floor and began the difficult task.

  "I never did write with a pen and ink afore," he confided to Monsieur,"you will have to tell me how to spell the big words."

  The room grew very silent and nothing was heard but the scratch, scratchof June's clumsy pen, and the occasional question which he asked. Astrange change had come over Monsieur; his face, which had been so kindand friendly, grew hard and scheming. He had drawn himself painfully upon his elbow and was intently watching June's small fingers as theyformed the letters. Presently he drew the long envelope from under hispillow and held it in his hand. It was a very fat envelope with a longrow of stamps in one corner, but there was no address on it. Twice heput it back and shook his head, and twice he looked longingly at the mapof France, and at the flag over the window, then he took it out again.

  "Will you write something for me now, at once?" he demanded in such ahard, quick voice that June looked up in surprise.

  "Another poem?" asked June.

  "No, a name and address on this envelope. Begin here and make theletters that I tell you. Capital M."

  "Do you like wiggles on your _M's?_" asked June, flattered by therequest and anxious to please.

  "No matter," said Monsieur impatiently, "we must finish before twelveo'clock. Now--small o--"

  June put his tongue out, and hunching up his shoulders and breathinghard proceeded with his laborious work. It was hard enough to keep thelines from running uphill and the letters from growing bigger andbigger, but those difficulties were small compared to the task ofguiding a sputtering, leaking pen. Once or twice he forgot and tried torub out with the other end of it and the result was discouraging. When aperiod very large and black was placed after the final word, he handedthe letter dubiously to Monsieur.

  "Does it spell anything?" he asked. Monsieur eagerly read the scrawlingaddress. "Yes, yes," he answered, "now put it inside your blouse, so.When you get home wait until nobody is looking, then put it in themail-box. Do you understand? When nobody is looking! Nobody must know,nobody must suspect, do you understand?"

  "'Does it spell anything?' June asked."]

  "Oh, I know, it's a secret!" cried June in delight. "I had a secret withmother for a whole week once. I wouldn't tell anything if I said Iwouldn't, would you?"

  June was looking very straight at Monsieur, his round eyes shining withhonesty, but Monsieur's eyes shifted uneasily.

  "I would never betray a trust," he said slowly, "if I were trusted. Butthey believed lies, they listened to tales that the beggarly Japanesecarried. They have made me what I am."

  June was puzzled. "Who did?" he asked.

  But Monsieur did not heed him; he was breathing quickly and theperspiration stood out on his forehead.

  "And you will be very careful and let no one see you mail it," he askedeagerly, "and never, never speak of it to anybody?"

  "Course not," said June stoutly, "that wouldn't be like a soldier, wouldit? I am going to be a soldier, like you and Father, when I grow up."

  Monsieur shuddered: "No, not like me. I am no longer a soldier. I am amiserable wretch. I--I am not fit to live." His voice broke and he threwhis arm across his eyes.

  June looked off into the farthest corner of the room and pretended notto see. He felt very sorry for Monsieur, but he could think of nothingto say. When he did speak he asked if goldfish had ears.

  When the noon gun sounded on the parade grounds, Tanaka came trotting tothe door with his jinrikisha, smiling and bowing and calling softly:"Juna San! Juna San!"

  June gathered his treasures together, a new lead pencil, an old swordhilt, some brass buttons and, best of all, a tiny goldfish in a glassjar.

  "Good-bye," he said as he stood by the bed with his hands full, "I amcoming back to-morrow if Seki will let me;" then a second thought struckhim and he added, "I think you _look_ like a soldier anyhow."

  And Monsieur smiled, and stiffening his back lifted a bandaged hand infeeble salute.