<h2><SPAN name="chap04"></SPAN>CHAPTER IV</h2>
<p>For us teachers there was a duty of night watch in the school, and we had to do
it in turn. But Badger and Red Shirt were not in it. On asking why these two
were exempt from this duty, I was told that they were accorded by the
government treatment similar to officials of “Sonin” rank. Oh,
fudge! They were paid more, worked less, and were then excused from this night
watch. It was not fair. They made regulations to suit their convenience and
seemed to regard all this as a matter of course. How could they be so brazen
faced as this! I was greatly dissatisfied relative to this question, but
according to the opinion of Porcupine, protests by a single person, with what
insistency they may be made, will not be heard. They ought to be heard whether
they are made by one person or by two if they are just. Porcupine remonstrated
with me by quoting “Might is right” in English. I did not catch his
point, so I asked him again, and he told me that it meant the right of the
stronger. If it was the right of the stronger I had known it for long, and did
not require Porcupine explain that to me at this time. The right of the
stronger was a question different from that of the night watch. Who would agree
that Badger and Red Shirt were the stronger? But argument or no argument, the
turn of this night watch at last fell upon me. Being quite fastidious, I never
enjoyed sound sleep unless I slept comfortably in my own bedding. From my
childhood, I never stayed out overnight. When I did not find sleeping under the
roof of my friends inviting, night watch in the school, you may be sure, was
still worse. However repulsive, if this was a part of the forty yen a month,
there was no alternative. I had to do it.</p>
<p>To remain alone in the school after the faculty and students had gone home, was
something particularly awkward. The room for the night watch was in the rear of
the school building at the west end of the dormitory. I stepped inside to see
how it was, and finding it squarely facing the setting sun, I thought I would
melt. In spite of autumn having already set in, the hot spell still lingered,
quite in keeping with the dilly-dally atmosphere of the country. I ordered the
same kind of meal as served for the students, and finished my supper. The meal
was unspeakably poor. It was a wonder they could subsist on such miserable
stuff and keep on “roughing it” in that lively fashion. Not only
that, they were always hungry for supper, finishing it at 4.30 in the
afternoon. They must be heroes in a sense. I had thus my supper, but the sun
being still high, could not go to bed yet. I felt like going to the
hot-springs. I did not know the wrong or right of night watch going out, but it
was oppressively trying to stand a life akin to heavy imprisonment. When I
called at the school the first time and inquired about night watch, I was told
by the janitor that he had just gone out and I thought it strange. But now by
taking the turn of night watch myself, I could fathom the situation; it was
right for any night watch to go out. I told the janitor that I was going out
for a minute. He asked me “on business?” and I answered
“No,” but to take a bath at the hot springs, and went out straight.
It was too bad that I had left my red towel at home, but I would borrow one
over there for to-day.</p>
<p>I took plenty of time in dipping in the bath and as it became dark at last, I
came to the Furumachi Station on a train. It was only about four blocks to the
school; I could cover it in no time. When I started walking schoolwards, Badger
was seen coming from the opposite direction. Badger, I presumed, was going to
the hot springs by this train. He came with brisk steps, and as we passed by, I
nodded my courtesy. Then Badger, with a studiously owlish countenance, asked:</p>
<p>“Am I wrong to understand that you are night watch?”</p>
<p>Chuck that “Am-I-wrong-to-understand”! Two hours ago, did he not
say to me “You’re on first night watch to-night. Now, take care of
yourself?” What makes one use such a roundabout, twisted way of saying
anything when he becomes a principal? I was far from smiling.</p>
<p>“Yes, Sir,” I said, “I’m night watch to-night, and as I
am night watch I will return to the school and stay there overnight,
sure.” With this parting shot, I left him where we met. Coming then to
the cross-streets of Katamachi, I met Porcupine. This is a narrow place, I tell
you. Whenever one ventures out, he is sure to come across some familiar face.</p>
<p>“Say, aren’t you night watch?” he hallooed, and I said
“Yes, I am.” “Tis wrong for night watch to leave his post at
his pleasure,” he added, and to this I blurted out with a bold front;
“Nothing wrong at all. It is wrong not to go out.”</p>
<p>“Say, old man, your slap-dash is going to the limit. Wouldn’t look
well for the principal or the head teacher to see you out like this.”</p>
<p>The submissive tone of his remark was contrary to Porcupine as I had known him
so far, so I cut him short by saying:</p>
<p>“I have met the principal just now. Why, he approved my taking a stroll
about the town. Said it would be hard on night watch unless he took a walk when
it is hot.” Then I made a bee-line for the school.</p>
<p>Soon it was night. I called the janitor to my room and had a chat for about two
hours. I grew tired of this, and thought I would get into bed anyway, even if I
could not sleep. I put on my night shirt, lifted the mosquito-net, rolled off
the red blanket and fell down flat on my back with a bang. The making of this
bumping noise when I go to bed is my habit from my boyhood. “It is a bad
habit,” once declared a student of a law school who lived on the ground
floor, and I on the second, when I was in the boarding house at Ogawa-machi,
Kanda-ku, and who brought complaints to my room in person. Students of law
schools, weaklings as they are, have double the ability of ordinary persons
when it comes to talking. As this student of law dwelt long on absurd
accusations, I downed him by answering that the noise made when I went to bed
was not the fault of my hip, but that of the house which was not built on a
solid base, and that if he had any fuss to make, make it to the house, not to
me. This room for night watch was not on the second floor, so nobody cared how
much I banged. I do not feel well-rested unless I go to bed with the loudest
bang I can make.</p>
<p>“This is bully!” and I straightened out my feet, when something
jumped and clung to them. They felt coarse, and seemed not to be fleas. I was a
bit surprised, and shook my feet inside the blanket two or three times.
Instantly the blamed thing increased,—five or six of them on my legs, two
or three on the thighs, one crushed beneath my hip and another clear up to my
belly. The shock became greater. Up I jumped, took off the blanket, and about
fifty to sixty grasshoppers flew out. I was more or less uneasy until I found
out what they were, but now I saw they were grasshoppers, they set me on the
war path. “You insignificant grasshoppers, startling a man! See
what’s coming to you!” With this I slapped them with my pillow
twice or thrice, but the objects being so small, the effect was out of
proportion to the force with which the blows were administered. I adopted a
different plan. In the manner of beating floor-mats with rolled matting at
house-cleaning, I sat up in bed and began beating them with the pillow. Many of
them flew up by the force of the pillow; some desperately clung on or shot
against my nose or head. I could not very well hit those on my head with the
pillow; I grabbed such, and dashed them on the floor. What was more provoking
was that no matter how hard I dashed them, they landed on the mosquito-net
where they made a fluffy jerk and remained, far from being dead. At last, in
about half an hour the slaughter of the grasshoppers was ended. I fetched a
broom and swept them out. The janitor came along and asked what was the matter.</p>
<p>“Damn the matter! Where in thunder are the fools who keep grasshoppers in
bed! You pumpkinhead!”</p>
<p>The janitor answered by explaining that he did not know anything about it.
“You can’t get away with Did-not-know,” and I followed this
thundering by throwing away the broom. The awe-struck janitor shouldered the
broom and faded away.</p>
<p>At once I summoned three of the students to my room as the
“representatives,” and six of them reported. Six or ten made no
difference; I rolled up the sleeves of my night-shirt and fired away.</p>
<p>“What do you mean by putting grasshoppers in my bed!”</p>
<p>“Grasshoppers? What are they?” said one in front, in a tone
disgustingly quiet. In this school, not only the principal, but the students as
well, were addicted to using twisted-round expressions.</p>
<p>“Don’t know grasshoppers! You shall see!” To my chagrin,
there was none; I had swept them all out. I called the janitor again and told
him to fetch those grasshoppers he had taken away. The janitor said he had
thrown them into the garbage box, but that he would pick them out again.
“Yes, hurry up,” I said, and he sped away. After a while he brought
back about ten grasshoppers on a white paper, remarking:</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Sir. It’s dark outside and I can’t find out
more. I’ll find some tomorrow.” All fools here, down to the
janitor. I showed one grasshopper to the students.</p>
<p>“This is a grasshopper. What’s the matter for as big idiots as you
not to know a grasshopper.” Then the one with a round face sitting on the
left saucily shot back:</p>
<p>“A-ah say, that’s a locust, a-ah——.”</p>
<p>“Shut up. They’re the same thing. In the first place, what do you
mean by answering your teacher ‘A-ah say’? Ah-Say or Ah-Sing is a
Chink’s name!”</p>
<p>For this counter-shot, he answered:</p>
<p>“A-ah say and Ah-Sing is different,—A-ah say.” They never got
rid of “A-ah say.”</p>
<p>“Grasshoppers or locusts, why did you put them into my bed? When I asked
you to?”</p>
<p>“Nobody put them in.”</p>
<p>“If not, how could they get into the bed?”</p>
<p>“Locusts are fond of warm places and probably they got in there
respectfully by themselves.”</p>
<p>“You fools! Grasshoppers getting into bed respectfully! I should smile at
them getting in there respectfully! Now, what’s the reason for doing this
mischief? Speak out.”</p>
<p>“But there is no way to explain it because we didn’t do it.”</p>
<p>Shrimps! If they were afraid of making a clean breast of their own deed, they
should not have done it at all. They looked defiant, and appeared to insist on
their innocence as long as no evidence was brought up. I myself did some
mischief while in the middle school, but when the culprit was sought after, I
was never so cowardly, not even once, to back out. What one has done, has been
done; what he has not, has not been,—that’s the black and white of
it. I, for one have been game and square, no matter how much mischief I might
have done. If I wished to dodge the punishment, I would not start it. Mischief
and punishment are bound to go together. We can enjoy mischief-making with some
show of spirit because it is accompanied by certain consequences. Where does
one expect to see the dastardly spirit which hungers for mischief-making
without punishment, in vogue? The fellows who like to borrow money but not pay
it back, are surely such as these students here after they are graduated. What
did these fellows come to this middle school for, anyway? They enter a school,
tattle round lies, play silly jokes behind some one by sneaking and cheating
and get wrongly swell-headed when they finish the school thinking they have
received an education. A common lot of jackasses they are.</p>
<p>My hatred of talking with these scamps became intense, so I dismissed them by
saying:</p>
<p>“If you fellows have nothing to say, let it go at that. You deserve pity
for not knowing the decent from the vulgar after coming to a middle
school.”</p>
<p>I am not very decent in my own language or manner, but am sure that my moral
standard is far more decent than that of these gangs. Those six boys filed out
leisurely. Outwardly they appeared more dignified than I their
teacher. It was
the more repulsive for their calm behavior. I have no temerity equal to theirs.
Then I went to bed again, and found the inside of the net full of merry crowds
of mosquitoes. I could not bother myself to burn one by one with a candle
flame. So I took the net off the hooks, folded it the lengthwise, and shook it
crossways, up and down the room. One of the rings of the net, flying round,
accidentally hit the back of my hand, the effect of which I did not soon
forget. When I went to bed for the third time, I cooled off a little, but could
not sleep easily. My watch showed it was half past ten. Well, as I thought it
over, I realized myself as having come to a dirty pit. If all teachers of
middle schools everywhere have to handle fellows like these in this school,
those teachers have my sympathy. It is wonderful that teachers never run short.
I believe there are many boneheads of extraordinary patience; but me for
something else. In this respect, Kiyo is worthy of admiration. She is an old
woman, with neither education nor social position, but as a human, she does
more to command our respect. Until now, I have been a trouble to her without
appreciating her goodness, but having come alone to such a far-off country, I
now appreciated, for the first time, her kindness. If she is fond of sasa-ame
of Echigo province, and if I go to Echigo for the purpose of buying that
sweetmeat to let her eat it, she is fully worth that trouble. Kiyo has been
praising me as unselfish and straight, but she is a person of sterling
qualities far more than I whom she praises. I began to feel like meeting her.</p>
<p>While I was thus meditating about Kiyo, all of a sudden, on the floor above my
head, about thirty to forty people, if I guess by the number, started stamping
the floor with bang, bang, bang that well threatened to bang down the floor.
This was followed by proportionately loud whoops. The noise surprised me, and I
popped up. The moment I got up I became aware that the students were starting a
rough house to get even with me. What wrong one has committed, he has to
confess, or his offence is never atoned for. They are just to ask for
themselves what crimes they have done. It should be proper that they repent
their folly after going to bed and to come and beg me pardon the next morning.
Even if they could not go so far as to apologize they should have kept quiet.
Then what does this racket mean? Were we keeping hogs in our
dormitory?</p>
<p>“This crazy thing got to stop. See what you get!”</p>
<p>I ran out of the room in my night shirt, and flew upstairs in three and half
steps. Then, strange to say, the thunderous rumbling, of which I was
sure of
hearing in the act, was hushed. Not only a whisper but even footsteps were not
heard. This was funny. The lamp was already blown out and although I could not
see what was what in the dark, nevertheless could tell by instinct whether
there was somebody around or not. In the long corridor running from the east to
the west, there was not hiding even a mouse. From other end of the corridor the
moonlight flooded in and about there it was particularly light. The scene was
somewhat uncanny. I have had the habit from my boyhood of frequently dreaming
and of flying out of bed and of muttering things which nobody understood,
affording everybody a hearty laugh. One night, when I was sixteen or seventeen,
I dreamed that I picked up a diamond, and getting up, demanded of my brother
who was sleeping close to me what he had done with that diamond. The demand was
made with such force that for about three days all in the house chaffed me
about the fatal loss of precious stone, much to my humiliation. Maybe this
noise which I heard was but a dream, although I was sure it was real. I was
wondering thus in the middle of the corridor, when at the further end where it
was moonlit, a roar was raised, coming from about thirty or forty throats,
“One, two, three,—Whee-ee!” The roar had hardly subsided,
when, as before, the stamping of the floor commenced with furious rhythm. Ah,
it was not a dream, but a real thing!</p>
<p>“Quit making the noise! ’Tis midnight!”</p>
<p>I shouted to beat the band, and started in their direction. My passage was
dark; the moonlight yonder was only my guide. About twelve feet past, I
stumbled squarely against some hard object; ere the “Ouch!” has
passed clear up to my head, I was thrown down. I called all kinds of gods, but
could not run. My mind urged me on to hurry up, but my leg would not obey the
command. Growing impatient, I hobbled on one foot, and found both voice and
stamping already ceased and perfectly quiet. Men can be cowards but I never
expected them capable of becoming such dastardly cowards as this. They
challenged hogs.</p>
<p>Now the situation having developed to this pretty mess, I would not give it up
until I had dragged them out from hiding and forced them to apologize. With
this determination, I tried to open one of the doors and examine inside, but it
would not open. It was locked or held fast with a pile of tables or something;
to my persistent efforts the door stood unyielding. Then I tried one across the
corridor on the northside, but it was also locked. While this irritating
attempt at door-opening was going on, again on the east end of the corridor the
whooping roar and rhythmic stamping of feet were heard. The fools at both ends
were bent on making a goose of me. I realized this, but then I was at a loss
what to do. I frankly confess that I have not quite as much tact as dashing
spirit. In such a case I am wholly at the mercy of swaying circumstances
without my own way of getting through it. Nevertheless, I do not expect to play
the part of underdog. If I dropped the affair then and there, it would reflect
upon my dignity. It would be mortifying to have them think that they had one on
the Tokyo-kid and that Tokyo-kid was wanting in tenacity. To have it on record
that I had been guyed by these insignificant spawn when on night watch, and had
to give in to their impudence because I could not handle them,—this would
be an indelible disgrace on my life. Mark ye,—I am descendant of a
samurai of the “hatamoto” class. The blood of the
“hatamoto” samurai could be traced to Mitsunaka Tada, who in turn
could claim still a nobler ancestor. I am different from, and nobler than,
these manure-smelling louts. The only pity is that I am rather short of tact;
that I do not know what to do in such a case. That is the trouble. But I would
not throw up the sponge; not on your life! I only do not know how because I am
honest. Just think,—if the honest does not win, what else is there in
this world that will win? If I cannot beat them to-night, I will tomorrow; if
not tomorrow, then the day after tomorrow. If not the day after tomorrow, I
will sit down right here, get my meals from my home until I beat them.</p>
<p>Thus resolved, I squatted in the middle of the corridor and waited for the
dawn. Myriads of mosquitoes swarmed about me, but I did not mind them. I felt
my leg where I hit it a while ago; it seemed bespattered with something greasy.
I thought it was bleeding. Let it bleed all it cares! Meanwhile, exhausted by
these unwonted affairs, I fell asleep. When I awoke, up I jumped with a curse.
The door on my right was half opened, and two students were standing in front
of me. The moment I recovered my senses from the drowsy lull, I grabbed a leg
of one of them nearest to me, and yanked it with all my might. He fell down
prone. Look at what you’re getting now! I flew at the other fellow, who
was much confused; gave him vigorous shaking twice or thrice, and he only kept
open his bewildering eyes.</p>
<p>“Come up to my room.” Evidently they were mollycoddles, for they
obeyed my command without a murmur. The day had become already clear.</p>
<p>I began questioning those two in my room, but,—you cannot pound out the
leopard’s spots no matter how you may try,—they seemed determined
to push it through by an insistent declaration of “not guilty,”
that they would not confess. While this questioning was going on, the students
upstairs came down, one by one, and began congregating in my room. I noticed
all their eyes were swollen from want of sleep.</p>
<p>“Blooming nice faces you got for not sleeping only one night. And you
call yourselves men! Go, wash your face and come back to hear what I’ve
got to tell you.”</p>
<p>I hurled this shot at them, but none of them went to wash his face. For about
one hour, I had been talking and back-talking with about fifty students when
suddenly Badger put in his appearance. I heard afterward that the janitor ran
to Badger for the purpose of reporting to him that there was a trouble in the
school. What a weak-knee of the janitor to fetch the principal for so trifling
an affair as this! No wonder he cannot see better times than a janitor.</p>
<p>The principal listened to my explanation, and also to brief remarks from the
students. “Attend school as usual till further notice. Hurry up with
washing your face and breakfast; there isn’t much time left.” So
the principal let go all the students. Decidedly slow way of handling, this. If
I were the principal, I would expel them right away. It is because the school
accords them such luke-warm treatment that they get “fresh” and
start “guying” the night watch.</p>
<p>He said to me that it must have been trying on my nerves, and that I might be
tired, and also that I need not teach that day. To this I replied:</p>
<p>“No, Sir, no worrying at all. Such things may happen every night, but it
would not disturb me in the least as long as I breathe. I will do the teaching.
If I were not able to teach on account of lack of sleep for only one single
night, I would make a rebate of my salary to the school.”</p>
<p>I do not know how this impressed him, but he gazed at me for a while, and
called my attention to the fact that my face was rather swollen. Indeed, I felt
it heavy. Besides, it itched all over. I was sure the mosquitoes must have
stung me there to their hearts’ content. I further added:</p>
<p>“My face may be swollen, but I can talk all right; so I will
teach;” thus scratching my face with some warmth. The principal smiled
and remarked, “Well, you have the strength.” To tell the truth, he
did not intend remark to be a compliment, but, I think, a sneer.</p>
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