A JAPANESE STORY FROM REAL LIFE.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 311, 27 October 1888, Page 4

A JAPANESE STORY FROM REAL LIFE.

Spkivi; is of all seasons the most delightrul in Japan. In the parks, gardens, and temple giounds, by river and lake margins, and at choice bpots in the suburbs, are to be found groves of flowering plum, peach, and cherry trees, which from eai'ly March until late in April arc thronged by happy swarms of admiring visiiors, clad in holiday raiment and benb on genuine but simple pleasure. To the watchful looker-on there will surely be manifested something of the happy and tender relation between parents and children which is the fruit partly of their sunshiny disposition, and partly of that most hallowed ct all articles of Japanese faith, the doctrine of filial reverence. Among such people and in such a scene, at the famed Gion temple in Kyoto, the 'city of gardens,' there happened very lately a dramatic incident in which the dying embcis of an oJd feudal practice flashed into momentary biightnefes. The world may never hoai again a talc from real life in this country so strangely connecting the present with the pa^b. Let me, then (writes a correspondent), tell it to readers in the btjlc of the Japanese narrator : — A few days ago, a Japanese, named Suda Tomojiro, advanced in years, went for a day's outing- to sec the eheiry-blo«soms at Cion, accompanied by his daughter Kuni, a charming girl of eighteen or nineteen. After a long &troil, spent in admiiiug the beautiful flowers, they bat down to rest beneath a tine cherry tree outside the temple-gates, where Suda was not sorry to refresh himself from the sake bottle which Japanese take with them on such occasions. Hard by, and similarly occupied, was another Japanese, about forty-live years old, accompanied by a lad jubt out of his teens. As soon as this stranger cast hit? eyes on Suda his feabuies underwent an extraordinary change ; and, although his young companion, seemingly apprehen&ive of some evil, sought to divert his attention, his gaze was kept intently riveted on the face of his elderly neighbour. At length, after scrutinising Suda in this wise for a space of some minutes, he inquiied in an excited tone whether his name Mas not Suda Tomojiro. The latter, assenting, asked him with some surprise, what his business might be. To this the stranger replied, 'lam a younger brother of Aleyada Hironcla, formerly asflwntmj'ofHikone, whom you, hisfellowclansman,slew. Toa\cngemy dead brother, I have for long years sought you far and near, but always without success, until thi3 auspicious day which has brought us together. Do you nob remember that affair?' 'I it indeed was,' answered Suda, ' who .slew your brother ; but I slew him justly, because he ottered me insult— a provocation which no samurai could brook. If you seek revenge, think nob that I, a samurai of the old time, shall evade you ; we will cross swords as becomes men of our birth. Take revenge on me if you cm. lam ready at. any time.' The two mmurai -then arranged to meet in combat that very night at Reizan, and were about to solemnise their agreemonb with a libation of sa/ce, when the agony of Kuni, hitherto suppressed, broke forth. Bui&fcing into tears, and seizing her parent's hand, she conjured him not "to pledge himself to this terrible duel, and besought biro at least to reflect on what would become of her wero she to lose the father whom she .«o loved, and to whom she owed so much. At this appeal, the stranger, by name JCakujivo, was greatly moved, and hung down his head. 'It was some thirteen years ago,' ho at length said, ' that Dusiness brpught me to this city, together with my wife and our little daughbor, who Mas then six years old. We went to worship at the Kib'ano shrine, and lost our child, in bhc crowd ; nor, in spito of the utmost efforts, were we over ablo to find her again. ]Vly wife soon afterwards" died, broken-hoarred at this sad calamity. , Wore our child liv- | ing now, she would be -grown up as this

your daughter.' During Kakajiro's recital Sudu's face displayed unusual interest. At its close he drew near to the nairator, and said, ' You have told me you lost your daughter atKitano when she was six years old. Now, this little maid, it &o happens, is not my real daughter, but a lost child, tound by my wife near ihe Kifcano shrine about the very time of which you speak. Never having beon blessed with any children, we adopted her as our own daughter. But it &eema not at all impossible that she is the very child whom you lost.' ' I have heard my wife say,' replied Kakujiro, ' thatourdaughter worcatthetime a bag containing three charms, by which she could be eafily identified. Almost before l»e hal finished speaking, Kuiri produced from her bosom a little bag, out of which she eagerly drew three charms, asking whether they corresponded with thobe of tho lost child. Kukajiro at once recognised them, and, in the joy of this great discovery, the duel was forgotten, until Kuni, reverting to it, entreated her newlyfound father to abandon all thought of revenge upon one to whom she owed the deepest debt of gratitude. Ho, unable to insist, was silent, when the lad in his company for the first time spoke, avowing not only that the cat>e was clearly one for reconciliation, but that revenge after the manner of feudal times was now a thing of the past. This declaration satisfied both sides -Suda because he had only accepted the contest when forced upon him, Kakujiro because of the discovery that Suda wa& his own child's foster-father. Bo the little parby wonl happily away to celebrate the joyful discovery of the long-lost daughter and to vow ties of future relationship between the two men who but a few minute* before had been resolved on mortal combat.