Pathway to Japanese Literature

Time: 1920s

Location: Suburbs of Morioka City

Character: Nisatsumatsu Tadashi — a newly established plant doctor.

Apprentice Painter

Farmer 1

Farmer 2

Farmer 3

Farmer 4

Farmer 5

Farmer 6

The curtain rose.

A shabby barracks-like room. Two desks—one bearing a microscope, the other for clients—and two chairs. Nisatsumatsu Tadashi sat on a chair, anxiously scanning a newspaper.
He stood up and fidgeted restlessly, adjusting things around him.

“Good day.”

“Hello there.”
(Nisatsumatsu busily adjusted his appearance.)

(The Apprentice Painter entered, carrying a signboard.)

“Ah, it’s you. It’s finished, then.”

Apprentice Painter (wiping sweat as he handed it over): “Um, that will be 5 yen and 30 sen.”

“Ah, I see,”
“I’m sorry for making you rush like that.”
“You see, I’ve just opened for business today, and I even placed an ad in the newspaper.”

Apprentice Painter: “Well… if that’s acceptable.”

Nisatsumatsu: “Ah, certainly—it’s splendidly made. Look here—please wait until month’s end for payment.”

Apprentice Painter: “Um, actually, we require payment in cash from all clients.”

Nisatsumatsu: “Well, naturally. But you see—now that I’ve established myself here as a doctor—it’s not as though I’ll vanish overnight. Do wait until month’s end.”

Apprentice Painter: “Yes, but you see, I was told to say that.”

“Well, fine then.”
“Even I—by starting this clinic—well, I’m the director, aren’t I?”
“I’ll definitely pay the five yen or so.”
“Please grant me that favor.”

“But this isn’t even a proper hospital.”

Nisatsumatsu: “Of course not.”
“It’s a plant hospital.”
“Every decent town overseas has them these days.”
“I’m just pioneering it here.”

“But if I don’t get cash now, I’ll get an earful when I go back.”
“Then I’ll have to take payment upfront.”

(He swiftly snatches the signboard.)

“Now, now—let’s not be so stubborn.”
“Truth is, I’m in a bind myself.”
“Up till last month, I was in land readjustment at the prefectural office.”
“But I got into it with the director—clocked him good and quit.”
“No capital for a proper business, see? Scrounged that microscope off a pal to start this racket.”
“Cut me some slack here.”

Apprentice Painter: “But how could you suddenly become a doctor when just last month you were doing traffic control or whatever?”

“It wasn’t traffic control.”
“Land readjustment.”
“But that’s nothing like being a doctor.”
“Still, you know how it is—farmers’ll believe anything if you sell it right.”
“I’ll make this work, so just leave the sign here.”
“Leave it here.”

(He took it back again.)

“Is that so…”
“In that case, please make sure there’s no mistake by the end of the month.”
“I’ll really be in trouble then…”

“Don’t worry.”
“I won’t cause you any trouble.”
“Thank you. Well then, goodbye.”

Apprentice Painter exits.

“’Scuse me.”

Nisatsumatsu (adjusting his posture and straightening his appearance): “Yes.”

Farmer 1 (enters holding withered upland rice): “Is the rice expert over here?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Farmer 1: “Can you figure out what’s wrong with upland rice too?”

Nisatsumatsu: “Ah, I understand.
“Because I am a doctor for all plants.”

Farmer 1: “Well, my upland rice isn’t growing at all.
“At this point, they’ve started withering bit by bit—what should I do? Please teach me.” (presents it)

Nisatsumatsu (taking it in his hands and examining it): “Ah, they’ve dried out far too much.”

“No sir, my field’s down in a mean valley where that dirt don’t ever go all parched and crumbly, no matter how fierce the drought gets.”

Nisatsumatsu: “Ah, then it’s poor drainage causing the trouble.”

Farmer 1 (thinking): Last year too—rains came down hard as anything—still got us a fine harvest. But this here mess? Ain’t never seen nothin’ like it in all my years workin’ that big valley field.

“Ah, you sowed them far too thickly.”

“If I sowed too thick, then how much upland rice per *tan* should I’ve sown in the first place?”

“Let me see.”
“It depends on the variety and soil, you see… Well, let’s see… When it comes to upland rice per *tan*, there are quite a few factors—whether they’re saltwater-selected seeds or not also makes a difference.”

“Ah, so they’re the saltwater-selected ones.”

“Ah, that depends on the saltwater-selected upland rice seeds, as well as the soil and fertilizer.”

“Well, in my area, I’ve been using the usual fertilizer.”

“Let me see… Well… About how much do you sow in your area?”

“First off, it’s four sho per *tan*.”
“I sowed ’bout that much too.”

Nisatsumatsu: “Ah, four sho per *tan*.
“It seems a bit thick—probably around three *sho* and eight *go* per *tan*.”
“However, yours isn’t due to thick sowing either, I suppose.”
“In that case, it must be the fertilizer after all.”
“The fertilizer was probably too scarce.”

“Well y’know—I used more than others did! Hyakugari-wise first off—my field’s one tan an’ four se—fer that hyakugari I put in fifteen da o’ alfalfa ’n one bale o’ soybean meal ’n ten kanme o’ ammonium sulfate.”

“Ah, that ammonium sulfate.”
“You applied it too strong, didn’t you?”

“Well, I didn’t think it was all that thick. So how much should I’ve thinned it down, y’know?”

Nisatsumatsu: “Let me see.”
“When it comes to thinning ammonium sulfate, there’s various ways, y’see—depends on the weather too.”

“If it’s cloudy first off and the dirt gets soggy too fast-like, how much of this should I use, y’know?”

Nisatsumatsu: “Let me see.”
“Also, if it’s too diluted, that won’t do.”
“How much do you dilute it at your place?”

Farmer 1: “First off, they say a full manure bucket of water up to about this level.”

Nisatsumatsu: “Yes, well, that’s right—but this much might be a bit too much.”
“Well, I suppose this is about right.”
(making his palm slightly smaller)

Farmer 1: “But me, I put in even more.”

“Is that so?
“Then it must be a disease, I suppose.”

Farmer 1: “What disease is it, then?”

Nisatsumatsu (with an air of gravitas, examining it under the microscope): “Ah, wilt disease, I see.”
“It’s wilt disease.”
“It’s clearly visible.”
“It’s wilt disease.”

Farmer 1: “But ain’t it more about pests than some disease?”

Nisatsumatsu: “Are there insects as well? On the leaves?”
Farmer 1: “No, on the roots—looks like there’re some tiny bugs there.”

“Ah, so it’s insects after all.”
“There are distinct marks where they’ve eaten through the roots.”
“This involves both disease and insects.”
“But primarily the insects.”

“Ah, I was thinkin’ the same thing.”

Nisatsumatsu (wiping sweat, finally appearing relieved): “Yes, exactly—this is clearly insects.”
“Moreover, it’s perfectly plain these’re root-cut worms.”
“Meanin’ this rice’s been killed off by them worms gnawin’ the roots.”

“Well then, how’m I s’posed to wipe out them root-cut worms?”

Nisatsumatsu: “Well now, if you aim to kill ’em off, arsenous acid’d still be your best bet, I reckon.”

“Well, where’s that sold, y’know?”

“Well, since my place is a clinic.”
“It’s at my place.”
“I’ll give it to you now.”

“Well.”

Nisatsumatsu (standing up and taking a medicine bottle): “How many *tan* did you say?”

“Five *se*, it is.”

Nisatsumatsu: “Hmm, for five *se*... how much would be right?”
(after thinking for a while, with a look of irritation) “This much should do.”
(He hands over the bottle as is.)

“Do I apply it even where there ain’t no insects?”

Nisatsumatsu (flustered): “No—you apply it only where they’re present.”

Farmer 1: “The withered parts’re ’bout half of it.”

Nisatsumatsu: “Ah, just apply exactly that much.”

“How much water’d I gotta add, y’know?”

Nisatsumatsu: “For one manure bucket, start ’bout this much.”

“Well, if that’s how it is, I s’pose I gotta be real careful applyin’ it.”
“Thank ya kindly, sir.”
“I’ll go apply it right quick ’n see.”
“How much’d I gotta use, then?”

Nisatsumatsu: “Let me see…”
“That’ll be one yen for the consultation ’n one yen for the medicine—two yen total.”

“’kay.”
(Takes out two yen from his wallet.)

Nisatsumatsu (taking it): “Oh, thank you.”

“Thank ya kindly.”
“I’ll be countin’ on yer help from here on out too.”

“Oh, good day.”
(Farmer 1 exits.)

Nisatsumatsu (smugly pacing back and forth in the room): “Hmph.”
Arsenous acid costs fifty sen to make a profit of one yen fifty.
With this setup，there’s absolutely no issue.
After they come to me with their problems，I just provide the solution.

(Proceeds with the steps for applying ammonium sulfate.)

“’Scuse me.”

Nisatsumatsu: “Yes.” (Farmer 2 enters.)

Farmer 2: “You’re the plant doctor they’re talkin’ about, ain’t ya?”

Nisatsumatsu: “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Can you even figure out what’s wrong with upland rice?”

Nisatsumatsu: “Ah, I understand.”
“Because I am a doctor for all plants.”

“Well, my upland rice just ain’t growin’ at all.”
“By now, it’s started to wither bit by bit.”

Nisatsumatsu: “Ah, I see.”
“Please, have a seat.”
“So—the upland rice is withering?”

“Well, can’t say it ain’t like that.”
(takes out)
Nisatsumatsu: “Ah, I see. This… well, this one… it’s neither due to excessive dryness nor poor drainage.”

“Well, that’s exactly how it is.”

Nisatsumatsu: “That’s right.
“Nor is it that you sowed the seeds too thickly.
“Well, I assume you sowed about four sho per tan.”

“Well, that’s how it is, that’s how it is. S’pose I sowed just about that much.”

Nisatsumatsu: “That’s right.
“Nor is the fertilizer too scarce.
“Nor was the ammonium sulfate applied too concentratedly during top-dressing.
“Well, you probably put about this much into one manure bucket.”

“Well, that’s how it is, that’s how it is.”

Nisatsumatsu: “That’s right—and this isn’t a disease either.”
“In my professional opinion—what do you think—could there be worms about this size clinging to the roots?”

“Well, that’s how it is, that’s how it is.”

Nisatsumatsu: “Indeed, that must be the case.”
“That’s what’s causing the trouble.”

“What’m I s’posed to do ’bout it?”
“Well, you apply a pesticide called arsenous acid.”
“Where’s that sold?”

“Oh, I do have it here normally, but I’m temporarily out of stock. Let me write you a certificate instead.” (writing) “Take this to the pharmacy in town and buy it there. Dilute it to the same strength as ammonium sulfate when applying.”

“So I take this paper to get the medicine, mix it thin-like, and spray it on, yeah?”

“Exactly.”

“How much’s this gonna cost me?”

“The consultation fee is one yen. Plus fifty sen for the certificate.”

Farmer 2: “One yen and fifty sen, that’s it.”
(hands over money) “There now, thank you kindly.”

“Ah, thank you.”
“Goodbye.”

Farmer 2 exits.

Farmer 3 enters.

Farmer 3: “The plant doctor in th’ad in this mornin’s paper—that’s you, ain’t it?”

“Ah, that’s correct. How can I assist you?”

“My upland rice just ain’t growin’ at all.”

“Yes, yes, you see, I’d noticed it long ago—it’s wireworm damage.”

“What’m I s’posed to do ’bout it?”

“What you do is apply arsenous acid.”
“I’ll write you a certificate now—take this to the pharmacy, buy arsenous acid, put about this much in a manure bucket, and apply it to the rice.”

(writes and hands over the certificate)

“Well, is that so?”
“Thank ya kindly.”
“How much do I gotta pay ya?”

Nisatsumatsu: “One yen and fifty sen.”

(hands over money)

Farmer 3: “Thank ya kindly.”

Nisatsumatsu: “Ah, thank you.”
“Goodbye.”

(Farmer 3 exits.)

Farmers 4 and 5 enter.

“Ah, good day. I am Nisatsumatsu, the plant doctor.”
“I take it you’ve come to consult about your upland rice withering away.”
“That is wireworm damage.”
“Apply arsenous acid.”
“I’ll write you a certificate now.” (writing)

Farmers 4 and 5 (astonished): “This guy’s nothin’ but a doctor!”
“Looks like he’s doin’ fortune-tellin’ too!”

“There’s a certificate here, so take this to the pharmacy, buy arsenous acid, dissolve it in water, and apply it to the rice.”
“Hmm, three yen from the two of you, please.”

Farmers 4 and 5: “Thank ya kindly.”

“Ah goodbye.”

Farmer 6 entered.

Nisatsumatsu: “Ah, (writing a certificate) Take this certificate to the pharmacy, buy arsenous acid, dissolve it in water, and apply it to your upland rice.”
“It’ll recover completely.”
“In return, please leave one yen and fifty sen.”

Farmer 6 (bows and hands over money.
exits)

Nisatsumatsu (to himself): “How’s that…
I never thought things would go this smoothly right from the start of my practice.
In half a day, it becomes ten yen.
The signboard cost and such are nothing.
“Looks like the seventh one’s about to show up… I’d say.”

“Good day.”

“Yes.” (Farmer 1 enters.)

“Ah, good day.”
“I am Nisatsumatsu, the plant doctor.”
“Your upland rice has completely withered.”

“Yes.”

Nisatsumatsu: “Now, it’s not because it was too dry or too wet.”
“Nor did you sow them too thickly.”
“I suppose you sowed about four shō per tan?”

“Yes.”

“That’s perfectly fine.”
“It wasn’t from having too little fertilizer either.”
“Nor did you apply ammonium sulfate too thickly.”
“Nor did you put this much into a single manure bucket.”

“Yes.”

“So you see, that’s damage from wireworms.”
“To get rid of them, you dissolve arsenous acid in water and spray it.”

“Yes, I did just like ya said.”

Nisatsumatsu (startling at his face): “Oh—you’re the gentleman who came earlier.”
“My sincere apologies for that.”
“How did it turn out?”

“It didn’t work at all,” said Farmer 1. “After applyin’ it, the rice turned red an’ died on us.”

Nisatsumatsu flustered: “No—that can’t be right. It’s your application method that’s faulty.”

“Method was bad,” Farmer 1 shot back, “but I did like ya said.”

“No—that’s not it. First of all—who applies it in broad daylight?”
“Well, you’re the one who didn’t say nothin’ about that!”
“Even if I didn’t say it, it’s common sense! I’m gettin’ sick of this.”

“Listen here.”

(Farmer 2 entered)

“The upland rice has completely withered.”

“That’s why—I’ve been saying it all along—there’s no reason to apply fertilizer or chemicals in the height of this weather.”

Farmer 2: “What’d ya do? You’re the one who told us to go apply it right away, didn’t ya?”

Nisatsumatsu: “I did say that—but not like how you all did it. You have to use a sprayer.”

“If even the bugs are dyin’, then the upland rice must be bad too, ain’t it?”

“That really does seem to be the case.”
Nisatsumatsu: “No—that’s not true.”
“It would’ve worked if you’d followed the prescription properly.”
“Good day.”

(Farmer 3 enters)

“Doctor, that medicine don’t work.”
“The rice’s all withered.”

Nisatsumatsu: “No—you see, as I was just saying—not using a sprayer and doin’ it in broad daylight was what went wrong.”

Farmer 3: “Well now, you’re the one who told us to apply it with a ladle in broad daylight, ain’t ya?”

Nisatsumatsu: “No, no—you see, that’s…”

Farmer 2: “What’s this? You’re just spoutin’ the same irresponsible excuses as before!”

Farmer 1: “Ain’t workin’ too well now, is it?”

(The doctor wilted.)

Farmers 4,5,6 enter.

Farmer 4: “So—you bastard—you’re just playin’ at bein’ a swindler! They’re all completely withered, ain’t they?”

Farmer 5: “This is outrageous. We’ve been sweatin’ our guts out since spring to finally get somethin’—two hundred bundles’ worth—and you’ve gone and withered it all!”

Farmer 6: “You’re one hell of a bastard!”

Farmer 2: “Look here—your advice from the start was pure nonsense. So, huh—call yourself a doctor? You take folks’ money and kill their rice—think that’s okay?”

Nisatsumatsu drooped his head.

(The farmers remained silent.)

Farmer 2 (after a pause): “These days, even a quack dentist gets prison time—you think you can swindle folks like this and walk free? Not a chance!”

Nisatsumatsu grew even more dejected.

“You fed the same lies to all six of us, then strutted around demandin’ consultation fees—what kinda racket is this?!”

Nisatsumatsu wilted even more.

Farmer 1 (pityingly): “Well now, don’t go on like that. Even proper doctors—some cures take, some folks die if treatment comes too late.”
“Don’t go on like that.”

Farmer 3: “Might’s well say we’re just cursed with bad luck and call it quits.”
“Should’ve figured it was a year-long drought from the start and given up…”

Farmer 4: “Course it went bad—we all planted the same upland rice.”
“Heard some got worse off, some pulled through—or so they say.”
“Ahahaha!”

“Well, let’s get goin’.”
“Doc, don’t take it too hard—just put in the effort like ya meant it when ya went to all that trouble.”

“Alright, ain’t no help for it.”
“Might as well give up clean.”
“Well, Doctor, there’s still folks who’ll come askin’ for ya—so don’tcha go losin’ heart now.”

“Well, let’s get goin’. Thank you kindly.”

Everyone exited as the doctor watched them leave.

(Curtain)