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MOTION PICTURE MAGAZINE
Many suitors came from afar off in carved sampans to sit by her and listen to her clear, low voice as it thrilled above the notes of her samisen. But she clove only to the youth Masao, plighting her troth whenever he should care to take her.
In the early spring, when the cherry trees in the garden were decked in deep pink blossoms, he led her to a seat and, with a broken voice, told her of his great ambition to cross the sea
light burned in them, turning her tears to bright jewels.
"You are my lord and master," she spoke up, "and whatsoever is your will, that is mine. At the birth of each spring I will send you blossoms— cherry, azalea, wistaria, iris, and when the year dies a chrysanthemum shall keep our love in flower. ' '
' ' Sayonara, little Hisa ; farewell till I come again for you." His hands
THE REARING OF HISA BECAME HIS ONLY CARE
and learn the wisdom of the Americans.
"The old days of our fathers," he said, "are dying, Hisa, my beloved one, and the brains and commerce of the white man are fast crowding us out. For many months I have studied of their books, and the deep thirst of knowledge has fastened upon me." He paused, with his face turned toward the open sea. "In the month of wistaria I leave you, and with the coming of each spring you will send me a spray as a token that our love is undying. ' '
Masao paused to look into the girl's brimming eyes. A trustful
stroked her forehead tenderly. "Tomorrow I go to Yokohama to take the big boat of iron and fire."
As he turned away, a fresh wind from the sea blew about them, sending a shower of pink petals into her hair and lap. But she did not glance up. The sorrow of the years cast a shadow across her young face.
The undergraduates of the University of California were getting accustomed to the invasion of their ranks by the little brown men from the land of the setting sun. They usually stayed by themselves, mixed little in college affairs, drank in everything