"A Half Caste" and Other Writings

Kirishima-san

✻ kirishima-san She had just administered her daily scolding to her pupil, and sat watching him with a look of extreme exasperation and hopelessness on her face. “How you egspeg aever speeg Japanese when you nod try. I tell you all the time thad you mus’ nod talk at me lig thad, bud you have so much persist I noto onderstan’ to tich you.” There was almost a sob in the last words. The young man, who had been all the time enjoying her anger, and, in fact, generally purposely provoked it, was suddenly covered with contrition. “Oh! I say, Kirishima-san,” he said, taking the book from her, “really I’m a brute. Now go ahead again. I’ll be good as a—lamb. I’ll speak Japanese in a week.” The girl’s face instantly brightened. “My! How good you kin be wen you wanter be.” She opened the little book and put her head severely on one side. “Now how you say gooe morning?” Jack Mortimer scratched his head, tried to look over her shoulder at the book, then gave it up. Kirishima looked reproachfully at him. “All day I teach you thad liddle word,” she said. “You oughter know it vaery mos’ well.” “What does it sound like—start it for me.” “Now I tell you once more, an’ thad you forgit again I thing you forgit foraever an’ aever.” She paused a moment before interpreting the words for him; then a bright idea seemed to strike her. “I tell you whad,” she said, confidently, almost mysteriously; “I kin tell you one grade way thad you naever forgit thad.” “Yes? Well, go ahead.” “You riglegt the grade big States in America?” 20 Part 1: Short Fiction “Well, I guess so.” “Whad you call thad State where you tell me all big—pol- pol-li-tishins cum from?” “Ohio,” said Jack solemnly. “That’s ride,” said Kirishima-san. “‘Ohayo’ is ‘good morning’ in Japanese, an’ you say thad jus’ lig you say the ‘Ohio’ in America.” Kirishima-san went home that day with a very bright little face. She had finally managed to teach her big, stupid pupil how to say one Japanese word properly. Now Jack Mortimer had lived in Japan one whole month, and although he had had almost daily instruction at the hands of Kirishima-san, who had become known among the Americans as an “imminent Japanese teacher,” he literally could not learn to speak the language. When Kirishima, who was small, pretty and bewilderingly fascinating in her daintiness and charm, scolded and stormed at him, Jack would tower above and watch her in admiring silence, deliberately trying to appear even more stupid for the sake of seeing her angry; when she coaxed him he was just as bad, but when she broke down in sheer despair and there was a suggestion of tears in her voice, Jack would break down also and would become the most abject, contrite, cringing pupil that ever was. He knew that the real cause of his bad progress lay in the fact that he was far more interested and intent on studying Kirishima-san herself rather than the Japanese language. Besides, apart from the fact that Kirishima was his teacher, she was also his confidante and friend. Although she always assumed a certain superior sort of dignity which was irresistible to Jack, nevertheless she really did take a great deal of interest, and sympathised with him in all his troubles (most of which he invented just for the sake of gaining her sympathy). She would listen to him very gravely when he bewailed the smallness of his American mail, would sweep and tidy his office for him and often cut the pages of his magazines and papers in the neatest way, while he dwelt on the fact that he was fatherless, motherless, brotherless, and almost sisterless, since his one sister was married—and Jack told Kirishima that was next door to burying herself. Kirishima had five brothers and seven sisters, besides a father and mother. She professed a deep sympathy for the desolate American, and would try in every way possible to keep him from becoming lonely. “You mus’ worg,” she told him, wisely. “Now whad you thing thad you goin’ nod to git lonely wen you nod worg. I worg vaery hard all day an’ all Part 1: Short Fiction 21 nide...