Pathway to Japanese Literature

I turned eleven yesterday. When Mother said, "What should I give you for your birthday?" I answered that I wanted a diary notebook. Then Mother promptly bought me a high-quality one. Since all three of the sisters keep diaries, I can’t hold my own unless I keep one too. They say the beginning is crucial for everything. People you find detestable when you first meet them will always be detestable—that’s what Sister Hanako keeps saying. So I, too, intended to nail this opening part—I racked my brain trying—but I just couldn’t come up with anything interesting. Everything has a beginning. The New Year begins with "Akemashite," speeches begin with "Ladies and gentlemen of this distinguished assembly," and letters begin with "Dear Sir/Madam." But since I don't even know how on earth a diary should begin from the very start, I have absolutely no idea how to begin mine. This is so lame!

Wondering what Sister Hanako had written in hers, I hit upon the brilliant idea of sneaking a peek at her diary for reference. Stealthily, I crept up to my sister’s room. I knew she usually kept it in her desk drawer, but since it was locked, finding a matching key proved quite the ordeal. Of course she’d have it locked. There was loads of nasty stuff written about me. First off, I couldn’t stand how she kept writing “Taro Taro” like I was some nobody. “Every bit of Taro’s blabbering has been spread around”—now that was harsh. Who’s the real chatterbox here? Anyway, I’d deal with punishment later. Before she returned, I meticulously copied down an entire page.

Shortly after sunset, Mr. Tomita arrived. Mr. Tomita came to visit almost every night. He was a portly man with a rock-solid frame. His face was rather homely and he was dutifully a widower, but he was said to have considerable wealth. According to Oshima, he seemed quite taken with Sister Hanako—whether he had been won over through playing cards or ping-pong, he hadn’t bothered to ask for details.

When I entered the parlor proudly clutching that diary notebook, Mr. Tomita’s ruddy face glistened as he— “Ah, Taro! How’s everything?” Having said that, he gave me some candy. I didn’t dislike this man that much. When he asked what I was holding there, I answered that it was a diary notebook—freshly bought, freshly received, freshly copied, still steaming hot. Then, as he still seemed eager to take a look, I let him have a look.

“Hmm, this is splendid. “It’s gold-edged, isn’t it?” Mr. Tomita scrutinized my diary notebook with theatrical care. He’s probably trying to butter up Sister Hanako by laying on the charm for me too, but using working-class lingo like “splendid” and “posh” would never win over someone as highfalutin as her. Still, Mr. Tomita—

“Miss Hanako, I shall now read Taro’s diary aloud, so Miss Utako must also listen attentively.”

By the time he said this and rose from his chair, both Sister Hanako and Sister Utako had nodded as if urging him on. I thought it might be amusing and didn’t raise any particular objection, but now, looking back, I realize I should have objected then. In the end, things had turned into a complete disaster. Mr. Tomita, without hesitation, cleared his throat with an affected "ahem" and promptly began reading.

“Mr. Tomita should just stop coming already. “He even came on Sunday evening—it was truly bothersome. “No matter what, I detest that man. “Mother says he has money, but property alone doesn’t make a person whole. “What sane young woman would willingly marry into such circumstances? “Even Mother must remember her youth—you’d think she could try seeing things from my perspective for once. “Those monstrously clumsy hands of his defy belief. “How many rental houses? How much land? Beyond that—a talentless oaf who can’t even converse properly! “That garish red necktie at his age—what even is that? “He’s utterly detestable and pretentious. “First off—vulgar tastes. “Not just vulgar—completely nonexistent. “The other day he tried forcing a kiss as I left... I’d rather kiss an Ise lobster than endure that man’s lips. “How can people be so different? “Ah, Mr. Shimizu! “I wonder if he’s angry with me. “That sarcastic remark he made last time—why must the world work this way? “A proper man like him stays poor while some Tomita hoards wealth—it mocks all decency. “If Mr. Shimizu were Mr. Tomita and vice versa... Oh, but that wouldn’t solve anything. “If their positions reversed—no, that still wouldn’t work.”

“Ah, I’ve gotten all mixed up.”

Miss Hanako frantically tried to retrieve the diary notebook, but Mr. Tomita, though short in stature, was taller than her. Moreover, each time he refused to hand it over by stretching to his full height and raising his arm high, leaving her no recourse. He finally finished reading it. And indeed, his face turned as red as an Ise lobster. When I thought I was in trouble, I was shocked when Mr. Tomita suddenly grabbed my hand.

“Mr. Taro, this must be your mischief.” “No, it wasn’t me.” “It was me who copied Sister Hanako’s diary.” Thinking it would be wrong to lie, I answered with the unvarnished truth. If only Mr. Tomita had been a man who understood reason like Washington’s father—he might have immediately lifted me up and spouted some literal-minded praise about how he’d gladly cherish his dear Taro who tells not a single lie even when called “the great fool Santarō,” rejoicing heartily. But alas, since he wasn’t that man and I wasn’t Washington either, there remained no way to voice any complaint now. I should have lied. Mr. Tomita’s complexion changed in an instant; he worked his mouth as if to say something but merely gulped loudly and left without a word. There came a sound so loud it seemed the door might break. Taro couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.

When Mr. Tomita had reached the gate area, Sister Hanako suddenly sank her teeth into Taro’s neck, shouting, “Taro! You really are—!” Taro had actually already been feeling apologetic just moments before, so he felt as if his heart had leapt into his skull. And thinking that if things like this got any more troublesome, he might end up facing some kind of trouble again, he quickly broke free and dashed headlong into his own room.

Today, everyone in the house was in a bad mood. When they saw my face, they glared. According to Oshima’s account, thanks to me, the nearly finalized marriage negotiations had completely fallen apart. To put it another way, it seemed that thanks to me, Sister Hanako could no longer marry Mr. Tomita. If that’s truly how it is, then isn’t this exactly what she wished for? Sister Hanako ought to prostrate herself in gratitude and thank me. Yet what a contradictory way to treat someone this is!

They acted curtly for no reason, glaring at me as if about to bite at any moment. This was truly ungrateful behavior. I decided I was never going to run any more errands to Mr. Shimizu’s place—and that was that!

At a time like this, staying home wasn't the least bit fun. However, being the eldest son meant I couldn't exactly run away to become a train conductor, so I shouldered my fishing rod and headed to the river—though looking back now, I really shouldn't have gone fishing at all. I always end up regretting things later. After all, even the Pastor says humans must feel regret, so maybe this was for the best. Anyway, I fell into the river and nearly died. All of this was entirely my sisters' fault. I'd wanted to stay home, but my sisters kept glaring at me like schoolyard bullies and practically shooed me out, so even though I hated it, I forced myself to go. How many people would want to fall into a river because of some twisted fate? It was undoubtedly my fault that I fell in. However, the cause of that fault lay entirely with my sisters.

The weather was so fine that the fish weren’t biting at all. I was bored, so I ate waffles, gobbled biscuits, even devoured an apple, and was just about to call it quits when the float started jerking violently. The rod bent from its violent tugging. Thinking I had it, I raised the rod—but leaning too far forward in that instant, I tumbled into the river to my dismay. It wasn't like I fell in because I wanted to.

By the time I came to, I was surrounded by a crowd beside a straw fire. They must have thought I was dead and meant to cremate me. Impatient lot, aren't they? What would they have done if I'd turned to bones and then come to my senses? It was truly a close call. There was no room for carelessness or slip-ups.

Carried on Uncle Suisha’s back, we arrived home at dusk. Mother hugged me tightly and shed tears. It was as if we’d been separated for ten years. My sisters started a commotion too—shouting “Taro! Taro!” like some chaotic year-end market named after me had begun. Sister Hanako especially must have felt guilty; she kindly brought premium biscuits to my bedside. Everyone’s moods had completely changed now. Come to think of it—to borrow Uncle Osaka’s words—sometimes falling into a river isn’t entirely bad. Still, being swaddled in blankets like they were taking photos and ordered “Stay still! Stay still!” was torture. The heat was unbearable. They probably thought reversing my chill with warmth would cure everything. What an uncharacteristically simple idea for Dr. Morikawa.

I was so uncomfortable that I secretly slipped out of the room and went into the parlor, but since I'd get scolded if found, I hid behind the window curtains. In the midst of this, my body became terribly tired, and then I grew sleepy.

When I woke up at the sound of voices, the lamps had already been lit. Right before me sat two people on the sofa. They weren't just sitting—they appeared to be leaning against each other. One was unmistakably Sister Haruko. I could tell by the perfume. Sister Haruko always wore violet. As for her companion, the other had to be that high-collar upstart. Dr. Morikawa had given me medicine earlier and still seemed to be dawdling. The one playing piano upstairs must be Sister Utako. No—that was far too skilled for Sister Utako. Since Mr. Tomita wasn't visiting tonight, I figured Sister Hanako must also be upstairs when—

“Haruko, it’s only six months—please wait patiently, won’t you?” “Come autumn, they’ll need a junior doctor at Mr. Shimojo’s hospital.” “We’ve already secured a tentative agreement, so once that happens, patient numbers will grow well beyond current levels.” “Just six more months—half a year. Please wait.” “Haruko.”

It was definitely the doctor’s voice, but what on earth were they waiting for? “If you remain steadfast in your resolve, I shall wait for years,” Sister Haruko replied. And the two of them began to giggle at something. What’s so funny about that? This was far more ridiculous, but as I kept holding my breath and listening—

"But you know, Haruko, let's keep this strictly secret." "Secrecy is the finest strategy."

“Of course I intend to do the same.”

As Haruko was about to reply—or perhaps hadn’t yet—someone knocked softly on the door from outside. Then Sister Haruko jumped up as if struck by electricity, and Dr. Morikawa—mimicking her movements—leapt like a bouncing ball. The two sat primly facing each other across the table with a “Please come in.” What performers they were.

Almost simultaneously, the door opened, and a crowd came bustling in. Mother, leading the way, asked, “Excuse me—has Taro come here?” Dr. Morikawa answered, “No, not at all.” “There’s absolutely no sign of him.” I’ve been right here, barely half a ken away this whole time! Today—since I’d nearly died—visitors had come to see me; but with the person in question nowhere to be found, Mother had come searching. “No sign of him here whatsoever.” So, thinking it inexcusable to worry them further, I leaped out from behind the window curtains, dropped suddenly to all fours, and let out a loud “Ugh...”

“Oh, Taro, what on earth are you doing?”

Mother, as if utterly exasperated, drew out a "Nee..." and began flailing about.

“Oh, Taro, were you in here all along?” Sister Haruko opened her prized large eyes wide.

“Yes, I was here—been here since around the sixteenth century.” “Hey Sis, secrets are the best strategy, eh?” “Half a year means six months exactly.” “Heh heh heh heh.” I took a step forward and glared red-eyed. Haruko flushed crimson and grabbed me. Then— “Go on, get over there! “You’re worrying Mother sick.” She seemed bent on pinning everything on Mother to scold me.

“I’ll go, I’ll go! “I’ll go even without you doing something so terrible!” “But Sis, you and Dr. Morikawa are…” Women are such irrational creatures—it’s truly exasperating. Sis abruptly covered my mouth, dragged me out, and shut the door.

I was once again wrapped up in a blanket and unable to move. This time, with Oshima standing guard, there was absolutely no way to escape. Despite Oshima being on the verge of tears and pleading, “Don’t do that!”, I leaned forward and continued writing in this diary. No matter how much I lean out, I won’t fall into the river this time. In the meantime, Oshima was doing nothing but yawning like a dying fish. Gradually, that spread to me, and I became quite sleepy.

For two weeks, keeping up with the diary was impossible. Apparently, falling into the river and swallowing water was bad enough, but cooling the initial flush of sweat made things worse. Dr. Morikawa came to see me twice a day. He's a kind person. I shouldn’t have made my eyes all red like that the other day. However, Haruko is such a brute of a woman. This morning she told Sister Hanako that since preparations would be busy from now on, it would be good if I stayed in bed for a while. I don’t know what preparations they’re talking about, but where exactly do you press to make such a sound? What a joke. When I was healthy, I went to send the mail three times a day. Though truth be told, I did lose the letters three or four times along the way—but since I kept silent like a mole, nobody ever found out. What kind of nonsense is this—treating me like a scrap of wood and expecting them to have me stay in bed for a whole month?

This morning I felt so well I nearly got up. When Oshima brought breakfast, I slipped out of bed and hid behind the door. With Mother’s black shawl over my head, I sank my teeth into Oshima’s leg the moment she cracked the door open. The fool must’ve thought I was Pochi—she dropped the tray with a bloodcurdling scream. What an idiot. The whole household came running like they were dredging a well. Teacups shattered into dust. The sheer thoughtlessness! I never pegged her for such a crude woman. Yet nobody breathed a word to Oshima. I alone caught the scolding. I’d made my decision. Once better, I’d run away and become a train conductor. No way this plan could fail.

From today I was allowed to get up, but I wasn't permitted to walk. Wrapped in a blanket and seated in an armchair like a grimacing temple guardian statue, I proved impossible to manage. The boredom was unbearable—this was more troublesome than lying down. Thirsty, I sent Oshima to fetch a cup of water and went to Sister Utako’s room. There were numerous photographs in the drawer. Since Miss Tomiko had come, everyone was gathered in the parlor. Oshima came searching for me, but unaware that I’d hidden in the cupboard, she lied “Oh dear, he’s not here either” before leaving. Now the field was mine.

There were a lot of photographs. People call me mischievous and naughty, but my sisters are the real tomboys. On the backs of the photographs were various amusing notes. Among them were some I couldn’t read, but one labeled “Self-Admiring Mirror” showed a man with a mustache sticking straight up and wearing pince-nez glasses. There was one that said, “This one actually proposed to me!” He had an awkward face. “Donkey Portrait” had ears of normal human length, making it look exactly like a donkey wearing a frock coat. “What a mouth!” Your mouth is ridiculously large. “Strange World” had a face as terrifying as the Nio guardian statues of Arakoku Temple. There were various others, but if I were to write each one down, dawn would break before I finished. In any case, even when I grow up, I’ll never give photographs to girls. How could I stand being called a beast or having pencil marks smeared on me?

Today, for the first time in a long time, I went downstairs and had a meal with everyone.

“Taro, what are you stuffing into your pocket like that? “Your pocket is bulging so much!” “Exactly like Tsū’s stuffed pockets!”

Utako said. Tsū was a mad beggar who walked around this neighborhood every day, picking up anything he could lay his hands on—fragments of bowls, discarded geta—and stuffing them into his pockets. That was said to be his illness. And he would walk around chanting “Tsū is an idiot” in a strange melody. The sake-drinking old man from the cooperage praised him, saying that even though he was a beggar, he had charm. As for that—well, anyway, my heart was pounding, “Oh, there are all sorts of important things in here.”

Utako laughed and, “I thought you were preparing to run away again.” “—stuffing books and kimonos into your pockets.”

Taro laughed without a word. Everyone was laughing too. That was close.

Around noon, I seized the opportunity to escape from home. And then I went around visiting each and every one of the actual people from those photographs. The very first place I visited was “Self-Admiring Mirror”. It was your house. Dr. Morikawa stood imposingly at his clinic like a guardian statue. I thought that even when I become an adult, I don’t want to grow such a beard. No matter how much the Kaiser mustache might spread like cholera, on him it’s just a bit too Kaiserly. If it were thick, that would be one thing, but five or six thin strands standing stiffly flipped up like a dragonfly’s tail are by no means pleasant to look at.

“Oh! Taro, you actually came.” “Are you feeling completely better now?” “Hmm, that’s good to hear.” Scratch-Monkey Mimicry was talking to himself. I talked for a short while. “How are your sisters doing? “Lately, the clinic has been so busy that I’ve been terribly remiss in visiting.” “Is Miss Utako still playing the piano?” Even though I wasn’t responding, the guy sure kept talking. As if Utako could be content with piano! While Dr. Morikawa was thinking things like “Miss Utako is my sister,” he brought out a new necktie and presented it to me. In return I pulled out a photograph from my pocket and handed it over. Due to my sisters’ mischief, the mustache had been stretched out twice as long with a pencil.

“This photograph looks just like you.” When he said that, the atmosphere shifted in an instant, “Taro, this is your mischief, isn’t it? How many people did you rope into this?” he made a face as if he were about to pounce. “Probably God did it!”

Taro answered with an owl-like foolish face. And since it looked like lightning was about to strike any moment now, he dashed off in a panic.

The next place he went to was a general store. Here too was a young master. A red-haired man with a red birthmark on his cheek. Miss Tomiko had said that even he was exercising with plans to appear in a Club Face Powder advertisement. “Good day.” “Oh! Mr. Taro, good day.” “You actually came.” “You like raisins, don’t you? Here, have some.” He gave Taro a handful of raisins and rejoiced as if confronting his parents’ murderer. Having three beautiful sisters meant wherever he went, his reputation preceded him. Taro sat at the counter eating raisins. Deciding the timing was right, he pulled out the photograph and stared intently while squinting like someone peering through bushes.

“Somehow this photograph looks like you,” said Taro as he compared their faces. “Let me see.” The Red-haired Clerk responded like one of Dr. Morikawa’s students and reached out his hand. “A hand that reaches out is a beggar’s heart,” said Taro. When the clerk took this seriously and withdrew his hand, Taro shouted again: “A hand that pulls back is a kappa’s heart!” Everyone in the store laughed. “Enough with the jokes—show it to me already!” Though he should have stopped there, the Birthmark Clerk kept demanding to see it. Worried he might explode if teased further, Taro handed over the photograph. This too was his sisters’ mischief—they had added numerous birthmarks. The hair had been colored red with ink. On the back was written: “Even this one applied.” By the time the Red-haired Clerk turned into the Blue-faced Clerk, Taro had already gotten another handful of raisins and was outside leaping about.

Mr. Kataoka is a lawyer. The office is in Shinmachi. This person often came to our house, so I knew him well. He was a man with a frighteningly deep voice. When I entered the office, my heart was pounding for some reason. I probably got cold feet. However, since it was on the way, I absolutely had to stop by.

“Good day, good day! What spectacle do you have in store today?” “What’s this? Ah! Mr. Taro?” The lawyer put down his newspaper and glared down at Taro. That even the Stern Nio Guardian cracked a smile was wholly due to Sister Haruko’s sway. “Well, Sister Haruko said this: ‘If you visit Mr. Kataoka’s office today, you’ll see such a monster!’” Taro placed the “Shinsekai” photo on the tripod desk but nearly got thrashed. True to its “New World” name, things got heated. Mr. Kataoka ranted about lawsuits and such.

I had gone to various other places too, but writing about each one would take until midnight. Besides, since I'd started blathering like a crucian carp anyway, I figured I'd wrap things up here. I made it back home after handing out all those photographs before dinner. At dinner that night, my sisters ganged up on Mother—all three of them—begging her to let them hold a dance party next week. But even if they send out invitations, not one man will show up. Who cares if they don't come? I'll just eat every last bit of that feast myself.

With Mother’s permission granted for a Saturday dance party, my sisters were as busy as bees. I was making quite a racket myself. Even after helping until I was exhausted, they said I was nothing but a nuisance anyway, so I sat on a chair to watch—and then the doorbell began ringing incessantly. They kept ringing it nonstop. Wondering who could have come, I rushed over to find it was our country aunt. The aunt came twice a year, staying about a week each time before leaving. Hanako scrunched up her face,

“Hopeless Auntie – she always shows up right when things are most troublesome.” “You’ll be staying another week, Auntie.” “If she does, she’ll certainly come to the dance party too.” “...wearing her old-fashioned kimono.” “This is so troublesome.” and the three of them were in a bind together.

Aunt was wealthy but old-fashioned, they said. They said her face looked as if she had just emerged from Noah’s Ark with the animals—utterly antiquated. At Sunday school I’d heard all the animals came out two by two—but since Aunt was an old maid, she must have come out alone. With my sisters making such a fuss about it all, I too became convinced some dreadful nuisance had arrived and felt thoroughly vexed.

When tea was finished, the aunt remained alone on the second floor. Taro went to check on her mood and, after a brief conversation, began discussing business.

“Auntie, do you love my sisters or do you hate them?” “What on earth are you saying? It’s precisely because I care for your sisters and you that I’ve traveled all this way from afar!” “Is that really true?” “You certainly ask the oddest questions, don’t you?” “If you truly love them, Auntie, you should leave right away. My sisters are having a dance party, so if Auntie stays, it’ll cause trouble—they say it’ll look bad in front of their friends.”

And Taro went on to explain everything in meticulous detail to ensure she fully understood.

Taro had not expected Aunt to get so angry. Aunt flared up like fire, immediately grabbed her bag, and stormed downstairs. And then she said to call a rickshaw. Father and Mother were astonished and tried desperately to stop her. The sisters too tried to stop her in tearful voices. However, Aunt did not respond. She was stubborn through and through; once she said something, she would never back down. Utako was brushed aside.

“No matter what happens, I will never cross the threshold of your house again.” “I will never, ever set foot in this ungrateful household again!” Aunt bellowed like an ox while striking the ground with her bat-shaped umbrella and marched off clutching her bag. “What could have happened?”

“What on earth happened?” Father said.

“What could have happened?”

Mother looked at Father’s face. “What in the world could have happened?” The sisters chimed in too. Everyone exchanged glances for a moment. “What in the world could have happened?”—as if there were any real mystery to it. Taro had worked quite hard.

The long-awaited evening of the dance party arrived. Oshima dressed Taro in his going-out clothes and told him not to go rubbing against things, so he gave her a good shove. He had on a new detachable collar, wore new gloves, carried a new handkerchief—everything from head to toe was brand new. The sisters lectured them on party etiquette for a full thirty minutes and threatened that if they misbehaved, they’d send them straight to bed. When they entered the hall, their shoes squeaked so loudly it was nearly deafening. Lights blazed everywhere. Beautiful flowers were arranged here and there. A piano player also arrived. When Taro thought about ice cream, sweets, mandarin oranges, jelly, cider, sandwiches, and such, saliva started flowing. This was absolutely not because I was a glutton. If anyone catches a cold, they’ll cough. If you think sad thoughts, tears will flow. If you think about sweet things, saliva comes out. It’s only natural. If anyone dares to call me lowly, I’ll make sure they suffer terribly. The sisters were wearing white kimonos and looked many times more beautiful than usual. They adorned their hair with flowers. They didn’t look like they were about to pull Taro’s ears.

Amidst all this，esteemed guests began to arrive． Most of the ladies they knew gathered． The clock struck nine． However，not a single male guest appeared． Only Mr．Morikawa had just come alone． Because I had a guilty conscience，my legs began to tremble slightly．

The pianist played the piano many times. The group of women, having no choice, formed pairs among themselves and danced. But apparently finding it dull with only women, they soon stopped. The clock announced nine-thirty. I trembled more and more. But if I stayed silent, I would be suspected, “It must be that the trains had a power outage.” “And also, since they were doing road repairs there, cars probably couldn’t get through.”

The esteemed guests began whispering among themselves. When the sisters were furrowing their brows in distress, the doorbell suddenly rang. At last they’ve come—well, well—everyone suddenly perked up, but how utterly ridiculous the whole affair was. Oshima entered with a composed expression, holding visiting cards. Just as they assumed these were refusal notices, all hell broke loose—the cat was finally out of the bag. The photos from the other day had come back.

Immediately after, the doorbell rang twelve or thirteen times. Each time, Oshima proudly brought the photographs. Finally, two men arrived. On the backs of these people’s photographs was written, “My, what lovely captions these are!” “A tailor’s shop sign” was written. However, the teachers had interpreted these lighthearted notes as utterly sincere congratulations and naively showed up. The three men took turns dancing the Lancers with five women. Yukiko-san kept giggling throughout. Utako-san looked like she was about to cry. Before long, everyone sat down at the dining table with an air of discomfort, as if something were stuck between their back teeth. Taro felt so terribly guilty that his fifth cup of ice cream wouldn’t go down.

After the guests left, Haruko-san declared she could no longer show her face in society—adding that if they ever found out who’d pulled such mischief, they wouldn’t let it go. Then Mr. Morikawa stared intently at Taro’s face, “You know about it, don’t you, Taro-san?” he said. “As if I would know!” “No! Why would I know anything about that?” “It’s Pochi.” “It’s Pochi who’s at fault.” “When I made Pochi eat the photos the other day, Pochi carried them in his mouth and took them outside.” “He must have dropped them somewhere on his way back.” “He’s truly a troublesome one.”

“So you’re the one who put out the photos.”

Sister Haruko assumed a fearsome demeanor. Once again, the cat was out of the bag. Taro dove into the futon as if his life depended on it.

Taro was being sent to a distant school this time. He wouldn’t be able to return home until the March vacation. But I thought it was far better than staying home and being bullied by my sisters. It was said there were many children around Taro’s age at the school. The advertisement stated: "Elevated land with fresh air, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the city, conducive to both children’s studies and health. ‘Train and streetcar access available’—something you’d see in a hot spring resort brochure—was written there." Moreover, Father said that since there were special facilities provided for young students, it might not be such a bad school after all.

It was tough leaving home. Mother and sisters saw him off to the entrance.

“Make sure to heed what the teachers tell you, and don’t catch cold.” When Mother fastened the loose button for him, Taro felt something like a rice cake stuck in his throat and bowed wordlessly. After the carriage had traveled some distance, he turned back to see everyone still standing there. Oshima was waving her handkerchief.

Father came all the way to school to see him off and made all sorts of requests to the principal. He said something about how troublesome it was having such a mischievous child. However, the principal said that children ought to be lively—a bit mischievous was even better. He was quite the smooth talker.

Tonight was the first time I was going to sleep in the dormitory. We all ate the sweets that had been brought. Everyone was bigger than me. I was downright shocked at how quickly they ate the sweets. Back home, my sisters were probably having a conversation in my room around now. I wondered if Mother had already gone to bed. Oshima must have been delighted not having to look after me anymore. I had meant to ask for letters but decided to leave it until tomorrow. Because Taro was short in stature during meals he would place a Webster on top of a chair and sit on it. Taro sat right next to the wife. That morning when she stood up briefly he swiftly moved her chair away. Then she sat down thinking her chair was still there and fell flat on her backside with her spoon still clutched tight. Fortunately she was human so she was fine—had she been porcelain she’d have shattered into pieces.

Taro began studying geography. The teacher said the globe was round, but I just couldn't bring myself to think so. There was a globe in the classroom. It was perfectly round. However, since it was unclear whether it was solid or hollow, I decided I'd try drilling a hole in it soon. I'd leave it as hollow.

Furthermore, I was taught arithmetic. This was the principal’s wife who was the teacher. It was a book with ridiculous things written in it. Taro has five kites, Jiro has ten, and Saburo has fifteen. I had no objection to the three of them totaling thirty, but fifteen was an outright lie. It wasn't like we were a kite shop—what kid had ten or fifteen of them?

In addition to the principal and his wife, there was one more teacher. She was slightly older than Sister Hanako and went by the name Ms. Ōuchi. Taro liked this teacher, but Zen-chan said she was an old maid. I don’t care if she’s an old maid. When Taro told her stories about when he was living at home, she sympathized greatly. And she told him to come visit whenever he felt lonely. I should go visit her there.

Homesickness is a sad thing. Last night, remembering various things, I couldn't fall asleep for about half an hour. When I thought of Oshima, suddenly the cross-eyed face of her cousin floated before my eyes. Cross-eyedness is such a handy trait. With that condition, he could read a book with his right eye while keeping watch outside with his left—the principal would never catch him. I wish I'd been born cross-eyed too.

Everyone was so rough—it was unbearable. They did terrible things like rolling me up in a futon or making me into a snowball. If Oshima had seen this, she’d surely have cried. My silk handkerchief was taken. Mitt climbed up onto the roof—though to be fair, this was because I’d forcibly embedded it into the cat’s head, and the cat had gone up to leave it there. But from now on, Zen-chan would be on our side. He said to report any bullies immediately, so I felt greatly reassured. Zen-chan was the biggest and strongest—the dormitory monitor. Whether nicknames or anything else, this kid came up with them all. They said Mr. Kane the custodian had the look of someone who’d fallen behind in life’s struggle—utterly discouraged. The principal was at least a man from the Sino-Japanese War era, pitifully behind the times today. When I asked if he’d crawled out of Noah’s Ark, Zen-chan didn’t even know what that was. Ms. Ōuchi was said to be slightly hysterical from heartbreak. The principal’s wife—a modern woman and ardent women’s rights advocate—when I asked what that meant, they said it was too complicated for a child to grasp. They claimed there was “a grain of truth” in their cause—but when I asked what grain meant, they snapped that I shouldn’t question everything. Still, she was quite proficient in Latin—more impressive than the principal himself.

Today, I ruined the parlor carpet and got scolded by the principal. I'd just tied an ink bottle to the cat's neck and got confined to my room for three days. It'll be fine once they beat his cat to death anyway.

Oshima often said Fridays were bad days, and she was absolutely right. When it came to Fridays, something that would get you a scolding was bound to happen. Today, something terrible happened.

The second period was history. Even after the bell rang and everyone entered the classroom, the Mummy didn't appear. The Mummy was the principal's nickname. Because his face resembled an Egyptian mummy's, we took to calling him "Mummy-Mummy" since the other day. I wondered what had happened and was about to go check when everyone started chattering noisily—"Stop! Stop! You're forgetting!" What idiots. What on earth are you all coming to school for? Are you happy wasting precious time?

I stealthily went to check the principal’s office. He shouldn’t be coming. The Mummy was leaning against a chair by the stove, taking a nap that looked rather pleasant. In such a state, even the principal seemed rather helpless. Even when I approached nearby, he remained unaware. His head drooped with a nod. With that motion, his hair slipped slightly. I was startled and ran back.

“Hey, big trouble!” “The Principal’s hair slipped off!” “Oh, he’s just wearing a wig.” “What are you doing?” “It’s okay. He’s sleeping soundly.” With that, Taro—ever prudent—immediately turned back again. So that’s what he’s wearing on his head—no wonder I’d thought his hair looked unusually thick for his age. Worried he might have woken up by now, I went back to check—only to find the principal still dead to the world. Even when Taro went right up to his feet, he kept snoring calmly away. Even when someone touched the wig, he remained unperturbed in his sleep. Even when someone removed the wig entirely, he stayed composed, nodding off unbothered. In this state, even if someone gave him a good whack, he’d probably stay as unflappable as Heizaemon. The principal’s head was a pill can. It closely resembled the ostrich egg Cousin Nichigai had brought back from Africa as a souvenir.

Taro put on the wig and swaggered grandly into the classroom. Everyone applauded and cheered. It was a commotion exactly like Admiral Togo’s triumphant return. “This is bad!” “You’ll get scolded!”

“You’ll be expelled!” “You’ve done something terrible!”

And everyone marveled even more, “Show us, show us! What is that thing?” Taro removed the wig. Everyone was happily taking turns putting it on. Among them was one who briefly donned it and cleared his throat with an “ahem.” When the wig returned to Taro’s hand, they made him stand at the podium and said, “How about it? Give us a lecture!” “Acting Principal!” So Taro put on the wig and thrust both hands behind his back. This mimicked the coattails of a formal jacket. Then he cleared his throat once,

“Young gentlemen, today I wish to draw your attention to the biological world.” “The types and forms of living things truly are diverse and varied in countless ways—elephants being larger than fleas, and fleas being smaller than elephants.” “Herein lies the marvel of creation—suppose a flea were larger than an elephant, what phenomenon might occur?” “If such a gigantic creature were to crawl upon us mortals’ backs at night……”

At this point, Zen-chan finally said, "Stop it and give back the wig!" And as Taro was about to step down from the podium,

“They’re here! They’re here!” And everyone began making a commotion. Taro immediately burned the wig in the stove. Then, just as he was about to close the lid, the door opened and the principal appeared. Because his head resembled a pill tin, he wore an expression that seemed to apologize for his appearance.

Taro was immediately taken to the principal's office. Though questioned extensively, Taro wouldn't say it had festered or burst. Mid-interrogation, the Principal began sneezing. "What on earth—Achoo!—do you come to school for—Hek-shun!—look here! I've caught cold because of you!" "Haa-choo!"

School was closed that day. The principal was sleeping. It was said he had caught a cold starting from his head. Even without that incident, a school principal couldn't very well teach while wearing an ostrich egg on his head. Since they had sent a telegram to town the previous night, a new wig was supposed to arrive that day. Taro would surely be expelled. He was already prepared. Truly, Taro had terrible luck.

A letter came from home. Seeming completely unaware of everything, they were lavishly praising me. That previous letter was just a neatly copied version of my school essay that I'd sent out. As if I could write something that eloquent. "The principal and his wife bestow their parental kindness upon me"—as if I'd ever say such a thing! But at home, they seemed to believe it had come straight from my own brain. "Furthermore, listen well to what your teachers say, focus solely on your studies, and since it's cold, make sure you don't catch a cold." And it stated that they were waiting for my return home during the exam vacation. Even if they didn't wait until the exam vacation, I'd probably be expelled soon anyway.

I actually came to hate school. If you stay long in such a place, you won't learn anything proper. Zen-chan taught me the technique of crumpling paper into a ball, hitting people on the head with it, and then acting innocent. Sen-chan taught me a method to pass exams without studying. I learned to steal kumquats from the neighboring estate under the pretense of retrieving a ball and was also taught to develop headaches whenever arithmetic became unbearable. I didn’t want to do such things, but since everyone was doing them, there was no helping it. Mother had repeatedly instructed me to follow what everyone else does.

Yesterday during dictation time, when I was drawing the teacher’s wife’s face, my slate was taken away. Not only was it taken away, but I was made to stand. After making me stand there, the teacher’s wife fashioned a newspaper hat and placed it on my head. No matter how much it’s meant to set an example, she’s really making too much a fool out of me. When I said, “Even this is better than a wig,” the teacher’s wife flew into a rage. Because of the principal’s wig incident, she seems to regard me as her sworn enemy. Precisely because I burned and discarded it, the principal went and bought that new one, didn’t he? Forgetting that favor, she just keeps nagging without understanding a thing. Stupid woman.

Today, I went to visit Ms. Ouchi in her room. Ms. Ouchi was a kind person.

“Come now, please come in here. Don’t hold back—make yourself at home and play however you like,” she said, so I suddenly struck a shachihoko statue pose. Ms. Ouchi didn’t seem very happy. When I entered, she was shedding tears. She had probably been crying. Or maybe she’d been eating some of Eitaro’s spicy tamadare candy. Speaking of eating, the teacher’s wife was someone who often snacked. If you eat nonstop like that, you probably get that fat.

Ms. Ouchi was someone who asked about all sorts of things. Since she particularly inquired about my sisters, I told her every bad thing I could think of. "So your eldest sister will be marrying soon then?" "Yes indeed. Even Sister Haruko will wed once Dr. Morikawa gains a few more patients. But Miss Ouchi, why aren't you getting married? Everyone says you're an old maid." Ms. Ouchi laughed with an "Ohoho." "And my, what amusing things you say, Taro," she deflected. I received a handful of sweet beans and returned home.

Today there was a literary meeting at school. Thanks to that literary meeting, my expulsion was finally settled. Tomorrow I would be returning home on the first train.

A large number of villagers came to observe. The principal wore a frock coat and became the chairperson. The teacher’s wife played her prized violin. Ms. Ouchi busied herself looking after the students. The students took turns reading essays, giving speeches, and reciting poems. Taro gave a speech.

Three days ago, the teacher’s wife had drafted a speech for me. The title was "School".

“School! The most enjoyable thing in one’s life would be school life. Parents who can send their children to school must give thanks to God. How must the children of the poor playing in the streets envy students? We students must study in our youth. If you don’t make good use of the privilege your parents went to such lengths to give you, it amounts to nothing. The greatness of our nation stems from education. Among these, boarding schools that prepare students for university are the foundation of the nation.”

That was all there was to it. However, I had rewritten it exactly as I saw fit. When I climbed onto the podium and bowed, something felt off, but since Ms. Ouchi, standing over there, immediately gave me a look telling me to start, I raised my voice and spoke as follows. “School! School is a dreadful place. Parents who send their children to school without knowing anything are pitiable. How pitiable. The children of the poor playing in the streets are better off. They can play from morning till night, so they’re happy. I especially cannot admire boarding schools. They make us eat nothing but tofu. But there's something even worse than that. In other words, I end up with punishment every other day. And so I don’t do anything bad at all. If I grow up and become a teacher, I won’t do mean things like Mrs. Teacher does. I think schools are truly terrible places.”

Everyone clapped their hands. Both the principal and the teacher’s wife were laughing admiringly. Taro felt somehow happy. After the meeting ended, the teacher’s wife said, “Just a moment,” so he followed her. “I’ll give you a reward for your speech—please come into this room,” she said, smirking. Though it was a smirk, he thought that since she was smiling at any rate, it couldn’t be anything serious, and so he went in. He was apparently supposed to do arithmetic here until dinnertime. Assigning about ten problems, the teacher’s wife locked the door and left.

I did about one and a half problems when it became tedious. If you want to know where the clock hands overlap between three and four, shouldn’t you just rotate the clock and see? There’s no need to ask me about such a thing. If someone knew how long it takes for light to reach Earth from the sun, that would be impressive—but fretting over whether a stray ember might start a fire when you can’t even tell where it flew? That’s just idiotic. Even I understand how clock hands work, but it was so cold my hands were frozen stiff and I couldn’t hold the slate pencil—there was nothing to be done.

When I looked at the stove, two embers glowing like cat’s eyes shone from within the ashes. Taro promptly tore up a book that was on the desk and tried burning it. It wouldn’t catch fire. It smoldered, stinging my eyes. Taro got angry and frantically fed more into the fire. The more I stoked, the more I coughed uncontrollably. In the midst of this, he realized he’d messed up. Yesterday, since I had nothing to do, I filled this stove’s chimney with dirt. Realizing it was bound to smolder like this, I tried to put it out, but it wouldn’t go out easily. I choked and, being in too much pain, let out a loud voice.

Then everyone came running, but since the teacher’s wife had left the lock engaged and gone shopping, there was no way to open it. I kept shouting even louder, “Fire! Fire! Somebody help!” If the window would open, I would have jumped out quickly, but unfortunately, it was frozen shut and wouldn’t budge. Taro thought he might really die, so he raised his voice even more. Then,

“Taro! Taro! Break the window glass and get out! Don’t worry about it—just break it quickly!”

Ms. Ouchi’s urging voice could be heard. Taro swung the chair around, smashed every single pane of glass to pieces, and then leaped outside. Two shards of glass were embedded in his right palm. Soon, the Principal and the teacher’s wife returned. Having heard the account from Ms. Ouchi, they promptly summoned Taro.

“Taro.” The principal put on a fierce expression. When summoning someone to reprimand them, he always began by first calling their name—“Taro”—then removing his glasses, taking out a handkerchief, and gradually launching into his lecture while wiping the lenses. “I will send a written notice to your father, so prepare yourself accordingly. “It won’t be fixed unless workers are assigned for a week. “Breaking just one pane would have been sufficient to escape, would it not? “You knew full well and acted recklessly. “And then why did you smash the stove?”

Taro remained silent. When scolded, he always stayed silent. Then the teacher’s wife interjected.

“You should just dismiss him outright along with the written notice, shouldn’t you?” “Even if we collected tuition from five students, it still wouldn’t balance things out.” “Who knows what else he might pull next.” “Let’s have Mr. Kin escort him away tomorrow.” “Come now, dear, just agree to this.” “It’s absolutely untenable.”

The principal acted quite high and mighty, but he couldn’t hold his head up against “Dear.” If it was something “Dear” said, he’d generally do it—if told to go sleep on the railway tracks, he might have just done it. Even though Ms. Ouchi had apologized on his behalf, they ultimately dismissed Taro. He was to be sent off first thing tomorrow by Mr. Kin, the janitor. When I get home, I’ll make a huge racket. It seems I really am no good.

If they send me off to work as a servant, that’ll be trouble—so I’ll make a huge racket.

When I asked Oshima, she said it was just a threat, but Father seemed really angry. Someone like me should just sit still and stay quiet. Whenever I moved a muscle and did something, it immediately got labeled as mischief. What a troublesome nature I was born with.

After Taro was gone, the church got a new pastor. This pastor was young. They said he was twenty-seven. A lanky, pale-faced man with glasses who seemed fond of sweets and young girls. That day he'd been invited for dinner. While talking with Sister Hanako, he patted my head. What rude behavior! I'm not some baby! He probably has eyes for Hanako, but she believes no man exists besides Shimizu in this whole world. That day too, I took a letter to Mr. Shimizu's place. The delivery fee was ten sen. Then I brought back Mr. Shimizu's reply. For twenty sen this time, I got strict orders not to breathe a word about the letters to anyone.

Hanako was waiting for Taro in the garden. Unfortunately, Sister Utako was nearby. Taro, clutching the letter in his pouch, drew near, and Sister Hanako—

“Oh, Taro, where have you been?” Sister Hanako said. It’s not like I went anywhere.

“Ah, it’s gotten cold. Shall we go inside?” Sister Hanako said again. At the entrance, Sister Hanako had Sister Utako go up first, then took the letter from Taro’s pouch. Even Taro was taken aback by how swiftly she acted. “Oh my, Sister Utako, there’s a pine needle on your shoulder,” she said as the two of them went upstairs. She didn’t even say thank you. Last night was boring, so Taro decided to give Oshima a scare and went to fetch Sister Hanako’s coat. Taro, thinking she might be there, quietly entered, but she wasn’t. Immediately pulling it over his head, since there happened to be a pouch right where his hand landed, he thrust into it and found a letter. It was Mr. Shimizu's letter. It said:

“Then let’s make it nine o’clock tonight. Please wait at the garden gate. Nine o’clock. Be sure not to make any mistakes. I’ll arrange for a carriage from my side.”

Taro was genuinely shocked. Sister Hanako planned to run away with Mr. Shimizu. If it was nine o'clock, there was already no time left. Taro suddenly dashed downstairs and went outside. Perhaps they had already run away.

As Taro crouched behind the neighboring house’s rainwater barrel, a carriage slowly approached. Just as he thought this must be it, Sister Hanako emerged from the back. She wasn’t wearing a coat, nor was she carrying a bag. She looked just as she did when at home. While Taro was distracted by Sister Hanako, Mr. Shimizu got down from the carriage. The two did not exchange a single word. Sister Hanako got on first, and Mr. Shimizu seemed to enter after her. And when Taro stood up thinking it was finally safe, the carriage began to move.

Taro immediately turned back home. Just as Oshima was searching for him, Taro was immediately forced into bed. And as he drifted off, he thought Sister Hanako must have gotten quite far by now—that horse of his did seem fast enough.

However, when I got up this morning and went down to eat breakfast, I was shocked to see Sister Hanako sitting composed in her usual seat as always. Then, wondering if their escape had been a dream, I searched through the pouch and found the letter I had taken last night brush against my hand. Lately things had quieted down so I wasn't getting scolded at all, but every day was so boring it became a problem. Father doted on me too. Yesterday I was taken to see a magic show by a magician called Sokkyukai Ten'ichi.

Tonight, Takeko-san and two female students came to visit. They’re apparently Sister Utako’s school friends. I decided to show everyone some imitation magic tricks and brought about ten eggs from the kitchen. There was a man who had come with Takeko-san. A modernist who had returned from abroad, with his hair neatly parted like a milkman’s. I liked his hairstyle as well as this man’s hat. It was a low-crowned type, the fashionable style these days. I recalled the magician had used exactly this kind of hat too. So I took off that hat and put eggs inside it. And I carried a small desk to the corner of the parlor and arranged various tools on top of it. With this, if I put on a frock coat, I’d be a proper magician.

“Ladies and gentlemen—everyone, I will now present an amusing magic show." “Admission is ten sen per person.”

Everyone laughed. The modernist man stood up and walked toward me. I worried that the hat had been discovered, but that wasn't the case. Smiling broadly, he took out a frog-mouthed purse and gave me a fifty-sen silver coin. And then,

“Young master, since today’s the opening day, there should be a discount—so that’ll be six portions.” Laughing, he returned to his seat. Sister Utako was also laughing. I had been worried from the start that Sister Utako wouldn’t stop me. If Sister Utako had stopped me, that kind of thing wouldn’t have happened.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the first act I shall present is the handkerchief trick.” “If anyone would be so kind, I humbly request to borrow one handkerchief.” Taro imitated Ten’ichi’s disciple’s method exactly. Then the modernist man lent me a silk handkerchief. “I have one more humble request.” “This time, I need matches.” “Does anyone happen to have matches?” The modernist man lent me wax matches. “Now then, I shall now set fire to this handkerchief and burn it up completely.” “After putting those burnt ashes into this drawer, when I clap three times, it will return to its former state.” “If it goes well, I humbly request your applause.”

Then Takeko-san clapped her hands. The modernist man remained silent. I began burning the handkerchief without concern for the details, but perhaps because there was too much perfume on it, it wouldn’t catch fire properly. But in any case, since it had become about half-burned, I threw it into the desk drawer. “When I clap three times, the handkerchief will be restored to its original state.” I immediately thought to clap my hands, but since smoke was still coming out, I held back. But staying silent would be odd,

“If it is successfully accomplished, I humbly request your applause.” After saying this, he looked again, but it was still the same as before. I thought this might not go well depending on how things went, but since staying silent would be strange, I once again, “If it is successfully accomplished, I humbly request your handclaps.” he tried saying. No matter how many times he tried saying it, it was no use. The handkerchief remained intact. Then everyone burst into snickers. And when Takeko-san clapped her hands, everyone followed suit. The modernist man also clapped his hands resignedly. Taro was truly embarrassed.

“The handkerchief didn’t burn properly just now, so it didn’t go well. Instead, I shall now present an egg trick for your viewing.”

I reached into the hat to take out an egg and was astonished. Since I had put teacups and bowls inside together—which made them clatter around—they were all broken. As I fretted over how I couldn’t perform any magic like this， Sister Utako came walking toward me. “Taro—you! Whose hat is that?” “His…” When Taro looked toward the modernist man， he was already by his side. Taro had no choice but to lay out both the egg and bowl on the desk and hand over the hat. As he received it，the modernist man’s face grew about three shaku longer in dismay. Because he looked about to pounce any moment，Taro fled at full speed.

Sister Utako must have been quite troubled. But more than that—his modernist man must have been even more troubled. Even if it were midnight, you couldn't ride the train in a frock coat without a hat.

Today I was worried sick about getting scolded over last night's incident. But Father and Mother didn't say a thing. Apparently Sister Utako got chewed out instead of me. They probably won't scold me anymore. Maybe they'll skip the scolding and suddenly ship me off to work as a servant instead. Whenever Sister Utako saw my face after that, she'd just glare at me with those icy eyes. Fine then! I won't even go mail letters or buy chocolates anymore!

Tonight, my tongue hurt unbearably. At dinner, I had only been drinking hot water. In the afternoon when I was outside doing magic tricks again, Rokko and I got into a fight. When I said I’d swallow a sword and show them, that Rokko bastard mocked me—saying there was no way someone could do such a thing. I got angry because— “Of course I can! What’d you do if I couldn’t?” “Bring the sword here! I’ll swallow it right now!” “Alright then—I’ll go get it!”

“Bring it here! Bring it right now!” “Alright.”

Then Chuko also joined the opposing side and backed up Rokko, “Then swallow this dagger!” “If you can swallow a sword, you can swallow a dagger!” Chuko had to go and spout that nonsense. Taro found it mortifying to lose face to these idiots, “Sure thing—I’ll swallow it and show you!” With that, he snatched Chuko’s dagger. That part went smoothly—until he realized Chuko’s was a sailor’s knife. A small one would’ve been fine, but sailor’s knives are big. Problem. Once he stuck it in his mouth, he froze solid. When Taro finally spat out the dagger with a bloody splutter, the two jeered “Serves you right!” and bolted. From a safe distance, they yelled “Wasn’t my fault! Blame the Three-Year Crow!” or some rot like that. Cowardly bastards.

Today, in the morning Sister Hanako was scolded by Father and Mother, and in the afternoon I was scolded by Sister Hanako. The world just keeps scolding everyone from top to bottom in an endless chain. Since there was no one left for me to scold, I gave Pochi’s head a good whack. When Mother mended the tear in my clothes, Mr. Shimizu’s letter came out. This was what got Sister Hanako summoned—and stealing my sister’s letter was why I got an earful from her. There was no meaning behind my hitting Pochi. It was simply because Pochi was there.

It seemed Sister Hanako would soon be having her wedding with Mr. Shimizu. If that were the case, they said I could come along too. And they assigned me a good room and promised to buy me anything. They said they’d take me on their honeymoon too. That’s why I’d keep quiet. I’d deliver letters three or even four times a day. And I’d keep something like Sister dyeing her hair a secret from Mr. Shimizu.

Dr.Morikawa and Sister Haruko were also going to get married soon. Marriage was all the rage. And since Sister Utako would also be married off within this year too,Father was really quite something,Oshima said.

I thought about making a kite but was struggling without ribs when the old bucket shop man came. When I asked for some bamboo, he said he'd give me as much as I wanted. But the bucket shop's bamboo was all bark with no core, so even if I took it, it couldn't be used for kite ribs. Then he said he'd bring better quality ones tomorrow, but this old man was a drunkard who did nothing but spout nonsense, so I couldn't count on it.

“Old man, the bath tub you fixed the other day has already started leaking. You must’ve been drunk and did a sloppy job, didn’t you?” Oshima pressed him. “Ah, a little water leaking’s no problem. As long as folks ain’t blabbin’ about it, no harm done.” The old man gave a calm reply and went to inspect the bath area. I immediately went upstairs and started reading a book, worried that they’d find the hole I had drilled with an awl.

This morning I got up early and made a kite. Since I couldn't get any bamboo no matter what, I broke Father's silk-covered Western-style umbrella and took two whalebone ribs. I thought it would be wasteful to just throw away the silk, so I used it for the tail.

After finishing breakfast, I went out holding the kite. My kite was bigger than everyone else’s, but apparently the bridle was poorly adjusted, making it so disorienting it was impossible to handle. "Is this kid flying a kite or dragging it around?" some cheeky brat remarked. First it fell onto the postman’s head; then it landed on the horse’s nose. The postman was just angry—which turned out fine—but the horse panicked and started thrashing about since it didn’t understand what was happening. The poor rider got thrown off and fainted. He might have died right there, but he’d probably come back to life. If he did come back, he’d better learn not to ride through kite-flying areas from then on.

Since we were told not to fly kites on the street anymore, we went to the vacant lot behind the church. For a while things went well, but eventually my kite got tangled in a tree. No matter how hard I pulled, it wouldn't come loose. Though I'm good at climbing trees, Mother would scold me if I did, so I asked Chuko instead. He was scared at first, but when I said "You're a man, aren't you?" he grudgingly climbed up and got it down. I'd asked him to retrieve the kite, but I never wanted him to fall and sprain his ankle. What a nuisance he turned out to be. Going beyond what was needed. There'd been a promise of ten sen if he brought it down, but since I'm not paying now, that's that.

Dr. Morikawa stopped by the house and said Chuko next door was in a terrible state—if things worsened, he might end up lame-legged. Taro felt sorry and tried to visit him, but they said Chuko's mother couldn't bear the sight of his face anymore. And once Chuko's leg healed, she declared they'd move somewhere less perilous—apparently she was livid about it all.

Mother had been at the neighbor’s house until evening but retired early for the night. She had developed a headache and felt unwell, apparently. It was strange that while Chuko next door had injured his leg, Mother was the one suffering from a headache.

Because I had been told not to go outside all day, I was reading a book quietly in my room. Then Father suddenly came upstairs, grabbed me by the scruff of my neck, dragged me to the storehouse, and locked it from the outside. Here I was studying without a peep, and he goes and does something this heartless! When Oshima brought lunch, I asked her and learned I was to stay in the storehouse until Chuko recovered. When would that good-for-nothing ever recover? They must be planning to keep me locked up here forever—no wonder Chuko would never get better. What a pain it was having such a useless friend.

Today, the kite flew splendidly well. Because the wind was strong, I let out all the string, so if I wasn’t careful, I might’ve gotten dragged along. Even if it didn’t fly, it was a struggle, but when it flew this well, holding onto it became all the more taxing. Because I hadn’t gone back for lunch, I was starving. Even so, bringing down this kite with such good pull would’ve been a shame. In times like these, it would’ve been good to have Chuko around, but there was nothing to be done. Thinking to tie it to a tree or something and leave it there while I went home, I looked around my surroundings.

A five- or six-year-old adorable girl was intently watching my kite. Where was she from? Maybe she was the church caretaker's child. Now that I thought about it, this kid had stumbled into a terrible situation. I lured her over and wound the kite string around her chest. Then I told her, "Keep holding onto this tree until I come back," and returned home.

When I got biscuits from Oshima and went back behind the church, the girl was gone. But looking up at the sky, the kite still flew just as before. Finding this odd, I tracked the string's path around to the church's front—and gasped. The string had snagged on the tower, with the girl clambering down onto the roof. If the string snapped, she'd crash onto the flagstones below. If it unraveled completely, that kid might've floated clean up to heaven. I started hollering for help.

The old woman from the church came rushing out and collapsed in shock. Later when I asked about it, I heard she'd seen the child dangling midair and thought heaven had finally come. Five or six people came running over amidst this commotion—the child was saved unharmed—but my kite kept flying up there. Since reaching that tower’s peak was impossible for me anyway—I had no choice but abandon it. By now maybe it dragged that tower all skyward toward heaven. Either way—what a waste—that damned kite went and did something truly regrettable.

Today was Sunday, and I went to church with Sister Utako. I thought listening to the Pastor’s sermon might make me a quiet, well-behaved child, so when I told Mother that, she was utterly delighted. But Mother said she had guests coming today, so it was decided Sister Utako would take me instead. The Pastor gave an absurdly long sermon. I grew sleepy. Even adults were dozing off. Even if someone thought he should stop now, since he couldn’t read minds, he just kept right on going.

“As we approach the conclusion...” he’d said, so I thought it was finally over, but he dashed my hopes. He wouldn’t stop! He went on with “Now everyone...” and restarted his whole performance from “Firstly...” It was war now. Thinking “Do what you want,” I crouched to pick up the dropped hymnal, and the toy pistol in my pocket fell out. If it had just fallen that would’ve been fine, but it went off with a pop—that’s when the trouble started. Everyone turned to glare at me with scary faces. Sister Utako flushed crimson and snapped, “Stay still!” I felt so embarrassed I wanted to disappear into my pocket.

I wanted to pick up the pistol, but since Sister Utako was keeping watch, I couldn’t reach for it. But leaving both hands on my knees would make me look like a sumo wrestler and be ridiculous, so I thrust them into my trouser pockets. There was something there. "Ah, this must be the automatic music box I received from a guest last night," I realized—but by then, it had already started playing *Hitotsu Toya*. I couldn’t do anything about it. No matter how much I squeezed it, it kept blaring *"Decorate with ornaments! Decorate with pines! Decorate with pines!"* Sister Utako dragged me outside. But by the time we got out, it had already stopped making noise. What a spiteful toy.

“Taro, you’re truly hopeless.” Sister made a face like she was about to cry. I was truly at a loss too. Why do I have such terrible luck? Whenever I make the rare effort to go to church, something happens that makes it impossible for me to ever show my face there again. And everyone says that child is no good, no good. There’s no telling how deep this ill-fated nature of mine runs. With how things are going, I’ll probably end up getting struck by lightning and dying. Even if I break my back trying to stay quiet, it’s no use—I’m just unlucky.

Uncle from Osaka had been staying at our house lately. This uncle was already quite old. And he was an odd person. He didn’t have a single strand of hair on his head. It was even worse than the principal’s. But you mustn’t laugh—Uncle was rich and a bachelor, so apparently if he took a liking to me, he might leave his fortune to me. The “maybe” was unsettling, but I thought it was better than having no chance at all. I had been intending to keep quiet from now on anyway, so this was perfect timing.

Uncle was deaf. Deaf here, deaf there—it was all money-deafness! Even if you talked to him, he wouldn't understand. Even if you called him an idiot, he just laughed. He held an ear trumpet to his ear and couldn't hear unless you shouted. When the teacher had talked about ears, he said there was a drum called an eardrum inside them, and that when struck, you could hear both voices and sounds. So if you thought about it, Uncle must not have had this eardrum. Since he didn't have an eardrum, he must've been making do with an ear trumpet instead.

One time, I went to check on Uncle’s mood. Uncle looked at my face through his glasses,

“How’s it going, Bonbon?” he said. Bonbon was such a ridiculous name. He should just call me Bō or Taro. It wasn’t like I was some clock. I borrowed the ear trumpet and blew into Uncle’s ear like this. “Uncle, are you stingy?” My voice came out too loud, startling him. “Ain’t gotta yell like that—I can hear ya just fine!” “Uncle, are you a miser?” “What’s that?” “Sister Utako said—she said this about you: ‘Uncle’s awful stingy, and you can’t do a thing with him even if you boil or fry him.’ Is that really true?”

“What’s this? “Did ya really say such a thing?” “You’re a real piece of work, ain’t ya?” “In that case, I brought a souvenir, but I ain’t gonna give it to ya now.” “You’re a truly awful piece of work, ain’t ya?”

“Uncle, there’s something I want to buy—could you give me a little money?” Uncle didn’t respond and just kept sniffling repeatedly. He stared at my face so intently it could bore holes. It seemed he thought of me as some kind of bug under a microscope. Thinking this had angered him, I decided to try consoling him and spoke up. “But you know, Uncle...” “Mother said you being stingy is actually better.” “She said the stingier you are, the more money you’ll save—so that’s ultimately better.”

But Uncle was still angry. No matter how much I tried comforting or coaxing him, he wouldn't listen to reason—it was hopeless. It was exactly like stroking a cat backward—the more I tried smoothing things over, the more he bristled—so I gave up and left.

When I returned after playing around a bit, Mother and Sister Utako caught me and asked all sorts of questions. Of course, I gave a vague reply and left it at that.

“You must never oppose Uncle. He’s always been an eccentric, but now that he’s senile and gone foolish, he takes offense at the slightest thing. It’s better if you don’t go anymore. Since he’s resting now, you go out and play—once he wakes up, it’ll get noisy again.” Mother said. So I listened to Mother and went outside. For a while, I watched the laborers repairing the road, but suddenly I wanted to see Uncle’s face. When I wondered what kind of face someone with that sort of face would make while sleeping, even the laborers’ squabble stopped being interesting.

I promptly turned back. Not wanting to get scolded, I went around to the garden and peeked through the window. On the windowsill lay a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. They were Uncle's. I absentmindedly took them and put them on, but everything went blurry. As I kept putting them on and taking them off, Pochi came running over. I wondered what kind of face the dog would make wearing glasses, so I tried them on him. They didn't suit him one bit. Then Pochi spotted the neighbor's cat and gave chase. I followed after him, but Pochi slipped through the fence into the neighbor's yard. At my wits' end, I whistled frantically. He came right back, but the glasses were gone from his face. He must've dropped them along the way. Even if I wanted to retrieve them, ever since I made Chuko cry that time, they say the neighbor's old man keeps his pistol loaded and ready—no way I can go now. Dogs are nothing but trouble. He thinks everything comes free for the taking. No sense of value whatsoever—those gold-rimmed glasses ended up lost forever.

Uncle was sleeping soundly, completely unaware of all this. He was sleeping extremely peacefully. Of course, there can’t be anyone who sleeps combatively. His mouth was open. His throat was making a sound like a steam train gradually starting to move. His head was carefully wrapped in a red banana-patterned handkerchief. The ceremonial cord wasn’t attached. The thought of whether my fishing rod could reach that far was itself an immense temptation. And the fact that the fishing rod reached there became the cause of an unforeseen disaster. I likened Uncle to an anglerfish hung at a fishmonger’s stall and, half-jokingly intending to catch him, lowered the hook near his mouth. Since it was work done from afar, it wasn’t going to go well anyway. The hook brushed against his nose, landed on his cheek, and then—by mistake—slipped into his mouth. At that moment, though he should have stopped, Uncle sneezed and tightly closed his mouth. I gave an extremely light pull, but Uncle let out a yelp like a dog whose tail had been stepped on. Because it would be troublesome if someone came, when I hurriedly pulled with all my strength, Uncle fell rolling off the chair. A scream echoed through the entire house. I threw down the fishing rod and hid in the storage shed.

I was confined to the storage shed for three days and today they finally relented. Uncle was still sleeping. I was truly at fault. I truly felt terrible. I asked Oshima to go retrieve the glasses from the neighbor’s garden. The frame was there, but the lens was nowhere to be found, I heard. Since there was no other way, I broke Sister Haruko’s nearsighted glasses and fitted the lenses into Uncle’s frame. From now on, I’d make absolutely no sound. Uncle steadily recovered and began getting up starting today. He and Father were having a conversation. Uncle was said to be terribly angry with me, so there was no way I could go meet him. I was listening to the conversation at the doorway.

“They must be fogged up. Let me wipe them for you.”

This was Father's voice.

“No, I just wiped them.” “Because of that bald-headed brat, my eyes have gone and gotten hurt.” “Up until now, these glasses fit my eyes properly, but…” “Can you not see?” “I can’t see a damn thing anymore.” I found it amusing but kept listening patiently. The two remained silent for a while. “I’ve gone and ruined my health, even lost my eyesight—just from coming here for a short while, I’ve suffered an enormous loss on my end too.” “You’ve suffered a loss of tens of thousands of yen too.”

With that, Uncle laughed. Father remained silent.

“With that attitude, he'll never amount to anything proper. Let him have money and it'll only make things worse. You need to watch yourself too, y'know.”

I was genuinely remorseful. I'd truly let the big fish get away.

We played at putting on a show in Tadakō’s family stable. We charged five sen per person for admission and earned sixty-five sen. Ten boys and three girls entered. Porters were admitted free of charge. This money was intended to be donated to the Volunteer Fleet. Tadakō became a monkey，Rokkō became a bear，and I became a monster. There were various other entertainments as well. I first went to the barber and had my head shaved close，then had Tadakō paint my face and hands with red ink. And I puffed out my cheeks with Uncle’s dentures. When I looked in the mirror，my face was so terrifying that I thought it wasn’t me. The gold teeth were shining. To make matters worse，when I went to drink water，I ended up dropping the dentures into the well. By the time a replacement was made，Uncle might have starved to death.

Rokkō has a donkey. I dressed up this donkey as an elephant calf and performed tricks on top of it. When I put Tadakō’s mother’s shawl on it, it looked a bit more like an elephant, but without tusks, it was still unsatisfactory. So, thinking it might be useful, I made it clamp down on Uncle’s trumpet that I’d brought. But donkeys have no sense at all—in the end, it chewed through and crushed the trumpet.

Due to these circumstances, Uncle moved to a hotel starting today. It’s said that he no longer considers that brat a nephew or anything of the sort. I haven’t thought of that miser as any uncle of mine for ages now. However, according to what Oshima secretly said, it seems that I suffered a great loss because of my mischief. Uncle ended up deciding to donate all the property he had intended to bequeath to me to a nursing home. Old folks are bound to favor their own kind. I had already braced myself for things to turn out roughly like this.

It’s fine even without fortune or anything like that. I’m not troubled in the least. Father is rich. Everyone says so. If I spend every day doing whatever I like and playing around, then I have no complaints at all. If only everyone would scold me a little less—but there’s nothing to be done about it. Even Tadakō next door gets scolded quite a lot. But let me make this clear—I never played pranks on Uncle with bad intentions at all. Even sticking dried potato stems with wax to his bald head wasn’t meant to burn him or anything. I just wondered whether he’d look like one of those bald brats with a tuft of hair. Even when one shoe went missing, he was just stashing it away as a precaution for keeping Nanjing mice.

Utako and Oshima found Uncle troublesome to look after and exhausting to deal with; even a brief conversation would leave him hoarse, so he was worn out. I liked having talks with Uncle. As if making a telephone call, I would shout into the ear trumpet and tell him everything he asked about. It was his own fault for being an old man yet wanting to listen to every little thing people said. If Utako were asked what she thought of me, she'd have no choice but to answer: "He's a bothersome old codger—talking to him ruins my voice, so I try not to go near him." Then there was Father saying letters from Uncle always meant more troublesome meddling was coming; Mother remarking his deafness at least saved them from handling chores during his visits—making him easier than Aunt; how despite his current looks he'd been an uncontrollable playboy in his youth; his apparent plan to haul his money all the way to hell; and since he pried into every last detail, they had no choice but to answer truthfully. Lies being the start of thievery made it truly vexing.

Father invited Mr. Kambo at noon. He was discussing with Mother about having this person buy the land plot in Nantoka Town. Today the cook was being ridiculously spiteful. This man was usually honest but had an extremely bad habit—whenever there was some feast, his disposition invariably turned nasty. He wouldn't even let someone like me get close. I didn't want anything at all, but if he was going to be that cautious over there, I ended up wanting to snatch something here too. When someone said "You're amazing," I somehow started feeling amazing. When someone gave me a look like they thought I might take something, I got the urge to actually take something. After all, today's whole affair was the cook's fault.

Snatching a handful of strawberries, I hid under the dining table. Since the tablecloth hung down to the floor, I had no worry of being discovered. As I was devouring the strawberries in peace, Father and Mother ushered in Mr. and Mrs.Kambo and immediately took their seats. Mr.Kambo offered a prayer of thanks, and the four of them began to sip their soup. I was done for. If only I had escaped when everyone first opened the door—now that things had come to this, I couldn't move a muscle.

The four of them were engaged in various conversations while clattering their knives and forks. They were such ill-mannered people. Mother was always saying you shouldn't make so much noise. Taro occasionally scratched Mr. Kambo's shoes. Each time, Mr. Kambo's body twitched involuntarily, which was amusing.

“Since the streetcar’s completion is all but certain, even if you don’t reside there yourself, buying this plot now would be no loss.” If you buy a place that’s no loss to keep and then sell it, there’ll surely be a loss. Father seemed to be scheming to deceive Mr. Kambo. I agreed wholeheartedly. “I really like the land plot, but the neighborhood is rather noisy.” “Is there a water supply?” I didn’t know about any water supply, but I scratched his shoe.

“The water supply has already reached the neighboring house. “And the streetcar access will be most convenient.”

Father was fixated on the streetcar issue. Taro scratched again. “Do you keep a dog at your house?” “A dog? Yes, we have one.” “Do you like dogs?” “Well, I’ve come to detest dogs something fierce—though until recently, it wasn’t like that at all. But when I had someone take a look for me, they said you have a canine adversity aspect in your fortune, and ever since then, I’ve grown to utterly despise them.” “Hydrophobia is a dreadful disease, you see.”

I was nearly about to laugh. “Does your dog not come up into the sitting room?”

This time, it was Mr. Kambo’s wife. “Yes, he’s an extremely well-mannered dog—he never comes into the house.” I couldn’t tell at all whether they were discussing the land plot or conducting research on dogs. I had already resolved that if Mr. Kambo didn’t agree to buy at eighteen yen per tsubo after ten calculations, I would pinch his shin. “I do like the land plot…” I already knew he liked the land plot. This damn beast really wasn’t going to buy it. I gave him a good hard pinch.

Mr. Kambo tumbled off his chair. "Call a doctor! Call a doctor!" he bellowed. Even when Father tried explaining it was just the household mischief-maker’s doing, he insisted they’d better hurry or he’d get hydrophobia—and once hydrophobia set in, he’d stand his ground. Old folks truly have no sense. In the end, the pair stormed off without finishing their meal.

What in the world did Sister Utako think of me? My ears weren't attached just to be pulled. Since she labored under the delusion that her face existed solely for applying powder, she probably yanked my ears at every little thing. So what if Ms. Tsutako was a chatterbox? It wasn't like I'd told any lies. If they'd just warned me beforehand not to breathe a word about the marriage talks to Ms. Tsutako, even I would've shown some restraint. You come barging in saying 'Taro's gone too far'—what if my ear came clean off? Wouldn't it be mortifying to end up looking like some earless bird or fish?

Lately, a man had started coming to visit Sister Utako. His name was Mr. Inoue. He had come again last night. When I entered the parlor, the two were talking. Wanting to get a good look at this man’s face, I moved closer and peered at him. Then Sister Utako shot me a look that seemed to say, “Go away over there.” She’d given me that look but hadn’t voiced it aloud—knowing this full well, I pretended not to notice. I’m not the sort to budge over a mere look.

“How about it, sport?”

“How about it, sport?” said Mr. Inoue.

“I’m not a general. I’m a kid.” I said. Then Mr. Inoue laughed heartily. When his laughing face quivered, something glittered. Because this was strange, I wanted to get a good look at this man’s face. “Ah! What was that thing that just glittered? Do you have a gold tooth like Sister Utako?” “You’re quite a character, kid.”

He didn’t answer Taro’s question. And since he didn’t laugh this time, nothing glittered. “Your face is the funny one. What’s wrong? What happened? Your one eye isn’t moving at all? Is it glass?”

Then Sister Utako got angry. “What is this, Taro? How rude! Go away over there. If you don’t listen, I’ll tell Mother.” Taro left without reason, but he found it too strange to let go, so after a short while, he went back again. And when he stared again intently, Sister Utako— “Taro, go over there and tell Oshima to bring some snacks and lemon. Make sure she comes right away.” “Make sure she brings them right away.”

she said very gently. This time, she was probably planning to coax me away and get rid of me. Even if you did that, I’d come right back. I didn’t plan to sleep tonight until I figured out why his eye didn’t move. After entrusting a task to Oshima, I immediately returned. The more I looked, the stranger it became. The right eye blinked, but the left one never moved. The left eye remained wide open at all times, like a fish’s eye. I also tried imitating him by blinking with just one eye, but it didn’t work well at all. Sister Utako must have been at her wit’s end—she came up with some errand, slipped out briefly, then returned right away,

“Taro, Mother is calling for you. Please go over there,” said Sister Utako. Though disappointed, Taro went to his mother’s side. “Taro, it’s rude to stare at our guest’s face,” she chided. “But Mother, what’s wrong with his eye? Why does only one move?” “It’s already nine o’clock. Time for bed.” Taro wasn’t about to ask about bedtime. Adults were such selfish creatures.

There’s nothing as troublesome as a small child.

The other day, some relatives came to visit Taro’s house. They were a girl named Kiku and her mother. Because of this Kiku, Taro ended up losing his telescope and air gun. Kiku was only seven or eight years old and a crybaby. Even if you tugged her hair just a little, she would burst into tears right away. Even if you showed her a knife and said you’d kill her, she would cry. She did nothing but cry. Being made to look after such a troublesome child, even if they said they’d buy him a telescope if he managed it well, it was an impossible proposition. Don’t they say you can’t win against a crying child and an authority figure?

Kiku-chan had a doll. It was a large doll that would cry when you pressed its stomach area. It was probably crying in imitation of its owner. Wondering what mechanism made it cry, Taro cut open its stomach to investigate. The doll stopped crying as it was, but Kiku-chan was crying uncontrollably. Even when he tried coaxing her by saying he’d tie her up, she kept crying. Even when he tried frightening her by saying he’d throw her into the river, she kept crying. Finally, Mother heard about it and came to apologize to Kiku-chan. And then Mother decided to buy a new doll for Kiku-chan using Taro’s savings. Taro had intended to shoot turkeys and was planning to buy an air gun with his money.

Kiku-chan suggested playing house. However, Taro had already run out of patience, so he refused, saying it was annoying. Even if he refused, there was no reasoning with her, so there was nothing to be done. Taro became the husband, and Kiku became the wife. This child was impertinent for being just a kid. “Won’t you change your clothes, Master?” she’d say, bringing Taro’s old garments, or “What time will you return tonight?” she’d ask, even though he hadn’t mentioned going anywhere. Because it was too annoying, Taro stopped playing house and suggested going out to play. Since she readily agreed, Taro played with Kiku-chan at the gate.

In the midst of this, Tadashi arrived, “Look at you, all happy playing with a girl. Disgusting!” Tadashi remarked coldly. I wasn’t happy at all—I was completely worn out! As proof of that, he said it was fine to make her suffer any kind of hardship. Tadashi joined in too, and though they played together for a while, in the end he was the one who came up with the mischief. “Let’s give Kiku-chan a baptism—you be the pastor,” he said. He agreed, but since she might cry again, he checked her intentions—and she was eager for the baptism. So Tadashi and he took her to the river.

He soaked his handkerchief in water and poured it over her head three times in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. There was no telling how far Tadashi’s wickedness might go. Just baptizing the head wouldn’t save her—at immersion churches, he said, they make you go fully underwater. That made sense too. Even if we went through all that trouble baptizing her, it’d mean nothing if she wasn’t properly saved. Though Kiku-chan started wailing, Tadashi and he worked together—tying her with an obi and dunking her three times in the river.

It’s because she was wearing such a nice kimono. Moreover, since she wouldn’t listen and thrashed about, she seemed to have swallowed even more water. Even though I never asked her to catch a cold, she was such a truly troublesome child. Taro was beaten mercilessly with a whip by Father that evening.

Because of Kiku-chan, I couldn't get the air gun anymore. The telescope deal fell through. My back still stung something fierce. I'd really been through the wringer. And yet Tadashi didn't get so much as a scolding. That bastard's luck never runs out. I swore I'd never play with him again. If any girl ever visits his house, I'll beat them to death next time. That'll teach them.

For the past two or three weeks, I didn’t even keep a diary. Even I can be quite useful when busy. The wedding of Miss Hanako and Mr. Shimizu was finally set for tomorrow. Today was such a whirlwind of running errands all over town that I felt dizzy. Because I had gone to Mr. Shimizu’s place three times alone, my legs became like sticks. So having to wake up early tomorrow is just unbearable. It’s fine since I’m going to sleep right now, but I’m actually worn out. If possible, I’d like to detach my legs and give them a rest.

This morning I woke up early. Since everyone in the household was busy pretending not to notice I was awake. If there'd been an errand needing done they'd have piped up with "Oh Taro-san!" quick enough. Mercenary bastards. Even Oshima just said "I'll leave bread and butter here so have breakfast alone - too busy can't help it" before disappearing. No way any decent family makes their brother eat plain bread when his sister's getting married proper. I went straight to the room with the long table and ate every fancy thing laid out. Knocked over a sherry bottle ruining the tablecloth but luckily nobody saw.

The wedding was set for eleven o'clock at the church. The entire house had been tidied up from top to bottom, and Taro couldn’t figure out where he was supposed to be. Then Oshima came out again and made him change clothes. Taro stuck a flower in his buttonhole, stuffed a new handkerchief into his pocket, clutched a white glove in his right hand, and clomped into the guest room in shoes polished to a lacquer-like shine.

Mr. Shimizu had already arrived. He was sitting in an armchair, perfectly composed. However, he was a botched attempt at composure. Even though his appearance was composed, because his mind kept restlessly pacing across the ceiling, no matter how much he tried to maintain his dignity, he ended up looking like some fidgety little lord. When I went over and greeted him as Oshima had taught me, he returned a courtesy more politely than usual. So this guy was really going to become my brother-in-law now.

When the preparations were complete and Sister Hanako came downstairs, I thought she looked beautiful. She wore a dazzling white satin dress, her rosy cheeks visible through the white veil, appearing almost translucent. Sister Haruko was also beautiful. Today she was in charge of assisting Sister Hanako. Mr. Shimizu searched for his hat while still wearing it, stepped on Sister Hanako’s hem and apologized, and tried unsuccessfully to fit his left glove onto his right hand. He was such a careless man. Because it was all so hilarious, I ended up forgetting my own hat.

The pastor was none other than our usual Mr.Naga. I sat behind Mr.Shimizu and pinned a handkerchief to his back with a safety pin - he remained utterly oblivious. There he went again with that fidgety-Mr.-routine of his. Even after the ceremony started,the handkerchief stayed planted on his back. I almost felt bad about how heavy that must feel on someone’s spine when Dr.Morikawa finally noticed and plucked it off. Father shot me one of his signature glares.

After returning home, everyone entered the dining room. Taro was busily eating sweets, but everyone else was only drinking wine. When he wondered what had become of the spot where he’d spilled the sherry earlier and went to check, a napkin had been placed there.

“Taro, toast your sister’s health.”

and someone poured wine for Taro. Taro raised his glass high, “I pray for Sister Hanako’s happiness. And if they have a child, I pray that child won’t get their ears boxed or hair pulled like I do.” Taro said and drank. His throat burned, and he coughed. Then Taro drank quite a bit. He must have drunk five or six glasses, he remembered.

When Mother woke me up, I was sleeping under the table. The surroundings were enveloped in silence. The guests must’ve all gone home by now.

“Mother, there was a terribly violent earthquake just now, wasn’t there?” When he said that, Mother,

"No," she answered. His body shook uncontrollably, and the table and walls seemed to spin wildly around him. "What happened to my sisters? Did they wait for me?" "The sisters left some time ago." "They've probably gone quite far by now." Taro made a fool of himself thanks to drinking wine.

Lately he had been attending school regularly. Taro wanted to get better at composition and calligraphy. His teacher had praised him for being nimble—said that if he studied hard enough, he might even become a minister someday—though that hadn't happened yet. But finding time to study was nearly impossible. Even when he made it to class without incident, disaster struck if he let his guard down for a moment. First off, I never knew when some paper-chewing delinquent might come flying out of nowhere. Couldn't predict when a telegram might arrive either. No telling what slip-up might let the teacher find those peanuts and apples stashed in my desk. Between worrying about all that and everything else, I hardly ever cracked open a textbook. Still—compared to boarding school? This was paradise.

While I was at school, Sister Utako said our home had become like heaven. What an insolent creature. When I retorted “Then where’s this angel?”, she pointed at her own chest declaring “There’s one right here.” She mocked everyone. What sort of angel goes about yanking her younger brother’s ears? Why must women be so insufferably vain?

Since Sister Utako’s group held a charity bazaar, I went to help out. The first day was a great success, and I was praised by everyone. Taro had pinned a red ribbon butterfly to his chest and was feeling quite pleased with himself. This was the sales clerk’s badge. He sold five-sen cigars for twenty sen each. When Sister Utako checked the accounts, sixty had been sold on our side alone. The second day also saw fairly good business. After nightfall, all the members drank tea on the second floor of the club. Of course, Taro also attended. Taro wasn’t a member, but he received three raffle tickets. So, since tea or whatever didn't matter, he thought it would be best if they just started the raffle quickly.

Since it was too boring, Taro spoke to the Madam sitting next to him like this. “Would you like me to show you something interesting?” “What is it?” “Boy.” Since she asked, he explained it like this.

“It’s something black. I’ll show it to you if you promise not to be shocked.” “What is it? I simply must see it!” This time, the young lady sitting to his right chimed in. Taro, deciding it was finally time, took out the small mouse he had caught earlier from his pocket and placed it on the table. As Taro was halfway through releasing it, the mouse leaped at Madam. When Madam shrieked and swatted it away, it ran all the way to the far end of the table.

It's just one little mouse. Crying, yelling, fainting, overturning tables—it wasn't worth going so far as to smash a lamp and make such a fuss over just one little mouse. Haruko tore her clothes slightly, and Utako burned her hand. They probably won't speak to me for a while now. The others will probably resent me too. But I must say it again and again—it's just one little mouse. When scolding me, Father always says this.

"I don't want to scold children but have no choice but to do so. "You have no idea how much more painful it is for me to scold you than for you to be scolded. "Be a bit more careful so I don't have to scold you!" The teacher also said the same thing yesterday.

“I don’t want to punish you.” “But you’re dear to me.” “Because I want to make you a good person, I have no choice but to punish you.” “It’s the rod of love.”

Following this logic meant they'd get angry despite not wanting to. I'm no different either. I hadn't done anything worth scolding, yet still got scolded anyway. They ought to try being more careful about not scolding. Scolding is their job - getting scolded is mine. Even if us scolded ones watch ourselves, unless the scolders quit too, this'll never end no matter what. Which came first - the arrow or the target? It makes no sense for the archers to keep their arrows while just telling us to watch out and not get hit.

When I become a father now, I will never scold children. If they did something unintentionally, no matter how grave the matter, I will never punish them. I will give them sweets three times a day. And I won’t even let my sisters speak to me.

Yesterday was April 1st. This day is April Fool’s Day. This is a day when it’s permissible to lie and deceive people. I had looked forward to this day since New Year’s more than even Christmas. Last year, since I didn’t understand much about the ways of the world, I was tricked by a great many people on April 1st. In return, yesterday I pulled off all sorts of things.

I had a plan, so I got up while it was still dark. The very first place I rushed to was the fire watchtower ladder. Adults lack wisdom. Because they misunderstood the world as being made up solely of adults, they made this ladder ridiculously large. I struggled quite a bit to climb it.

The eastern sky was just barely bright. It was quiet. His own breathing sounded unreasonably loud. Everyone must still be asleep. Houses, trees, and the street all looked dim. These guys must still be asleep. Even the gas lamps were glowing a lonely yellow. No one would think I'm up this high. The guy strutting around in that inverness coat like something Susanoo-no-Mikoto would wear at a shrine festival, Tonchiki preening with his booby bird feather collar—neither of them would ever dream that I'm about to stage a fake fire. I somehow felt happy.

Because it was quiet, the alarm bell rang out clearly. He struck once, and when the echo faded, struck again. I tried ringing it about ten times, but the world below kept sleeping undisturbed. Surely they couldn’t all be dead. Even so, it was too quiet. Since a single bell strike wasn’t enough to rouse them, he switched to rapid ringing this time. He struck it wildly and without restraint. Then, sensing that the commotion was somehow growing around him, Nokou decided to climb down for now.

“Where is it?” “Can you see it?” The people who had gathered like ants were all saying the same sort of thing. When one wakes up in the morning, one must always greet others with “Good morning.” Mother said that if you can’t do that, you’re not even human. Upon closer inspection, all these people probably weren’t human beings.

I came back because getting caught would be trouble. On the way, I met Miss Tsuruko. She tried talking with me briefly, but I couldn't understand what she was saying. She must have rushed out in a panic over the fire and forgotten her dentures. Then I also met Mr. Yamada. Mr. Yamada had newspaper wrapped around his head.

“Where is the fire?” When he asked, “Right over there,” he answered. Mr. Yamada ran off without even saying thank you. Since I was getting a bit cold too, I hurried back. At breakfast time, Sister Utako gave me a large steamed bun. It was unusual for Sister Utako to give me sweets first thing in the morning. Thinking there must have been a funeral somewhere, I took a bite and was shocked. It was made of cotton. When I realized I’d been sweetly tricked, Sister Utako laughed, “April Fool’s! Got you good!” Sister Haruko also laughed. Oshima had been laughing from the very beginning. Damn them!

I left home intending to go to school but was so furious that I went to the post office and sent a telegram. "Haruko ill. Come." Dr. Morikawa would probably rush over by car. However, even if Haruko was healthy, he usually came every other day. Then I went to the flower shop. This flower shop had just recently set up business here, so naturally they didn’t recognize my face. I presented the business card Mr. Inoue had given me when inviting me to visit earlier, ordered a five-yen bundle of high-quality flowers, and instructed them to deliver it to Sister Haruko. I gave them clear directions to the house—there was no way they’d get lost.

As he was ambling toward the school，he encountered Ms.Seino from the Okamotos’. She was probably heading to the girls’ school．Since there was still some time，he decided to follow her with the intention of playing a prank，but couldn’t quite figure out how to trick her properly．But since they say you can’t become great if you abandon something once started halfway through，Nokou kept following her．Then，in the midst of this，Ms.Seino dropped her lace handkerchief．Nokou promptly picked it up and called out．

“Ms. Seino, you dropped your handkerchief.” “Today is April first.”

Ms.Seino merely replied without even turning around. "It's genuine!" "Ms.Seino." "Look for yourself!"

This time, without even replying, she stomped off.

“Ms. Seino! Ms. Seino!” “You’ll make me late for school!” Ms. Seino finally ran off without looking back. Left with no choice, Taro kept the handkerchief. Since school had likely already started by then, and being scolded for tardiness would be humiliating, he decided to skip class and head to the rice fields instead. The paddies offered a far better view than any schoolyard. Taro sat down on the grass and opened his lunchbox. He’d expected a rolled omelette, but found only bread inside. No wonder it felt so light. Thinking it might contain butter or jam, he tore it open—only to discover sawdust. Taro immediately bolted home, determined to give Oshima a beating she wouldn’t forget.

Since I didn’t want anyone to find me, I dashed up to my room. I was considering hiding in the cupboard until three o’clock when Oshima came in. I suddenly grabbed her. When quarreling with women, pulling their hair is the way to go. I finally knocked Oshima down and made her apologize. And made her bring biscuits from the inner room and also made her promise to keep quiet about my return until three o’clock. If I were to eat sawdust and get sick, what exactly do you plan to do about it? There’s a limit to mischief.

Sister Haruko and Sister Utako both wouldn't speak to me. Today, Sister Utako went to mail the letter herself. See? That's exactly why it's so inconvenient right away.

She had the nerve to say she no longer considers someone like me her brother. As if I'd ever consider someone like Sister Utako an actual sister!

Dr.Morikawa and Father were discussing such things. "He has a kind of illness, you know. An illness where he feels compelled to cause mischief." "No matter how skilled a doctor might be, such an ailment seems rather beyond medical expertise." Even a doctor would be dumbfounded to hear this. And he calls himself a modernist quack! "What if we tried hypnosis? I hear it can correct various undesirable habits." "If it took effect, there might be some benefit—but it wouldn’t take hold. The method still lacks sufficient power to focus the mind."

He said something impertinent. “Well, the quickest solution would be to cut off his legs so he can’t go outside. Ha ha ha ha!” Sister Haruko, who was also nearby, seemed to laugh. Father and Mother went to visit Sister Hanako.

Taro, Sister Haruko, Sister Utako, Oshima, and the servants would be looking after the house. Since Mother had specifically asked us to keep quiet while they were away, I promised to attend school properly, return straight home like a fishing rod after finishing my lessons, and not bother my sisters. If I didn’t cause any mischief for the next week, Father was supposed to buy me a forty-yen pony. I’d rather have that one pony of his than ten bicycles. Ever since that horse dealer said forty yen was practically nothing, I’d been dreaming of his horse every night. Even during daytime, people’s faces sometimes looked strangely long.

“If you just endure for a week or so, behaving properly will be no trouble at all,” Oshima said. But Oshima was a woman who’d never been a boy—how could she possibly know whether it was easy or not? As if that’s how it worked! But anyway, I’d try to behave properly. If everything went smoothly, I’d get that horse—what a thrill that’d be! Then I’d ride the horse to school. In that case, I’d never skip class. I’d even ride the horse to visit Sister Hanako. Starting tomorrow, I’d write my diary properly every day.

Father and Mother departed this morning. I behaved quite properly today.

I broke Mother’s mirror, but this was a genuine accident. Tadashi and I played ball in the room. Since the ball wasn’t bouncing well, I shaved down Sister Haruko’s rubber shoe and attached it. Then it bounced so absurdly that it ended up hitting the mirror. Then it bounced back again and knocked over the perfume bottle.

Mice were building a nest in the ceiling of the tokonoma. Mother had been very concerned about this. I decided to exterminate them while everyone was away and climbed up to the ceiling. The ceiling could be easily entered by crawling along the bathhouse rafters. I had observed this when the carpenter came once before. I removed the mouse nest, but slipped and fell into the tokonoma. I wasn't particularly hurt, but broke Father's bonsai. "I'll just go buy a new one at the festival market later," I thought. My back hurt a little, so after that I didn't do anything. The first day could be considered a success.

In the morning, I stopped by the horse dealer's place and asked him to take good care of his horse. When he told me to try riding it for a bit, I tossed aside my bag and galloped all over. Running into the teacher on the road really put me in a tight spot. Then I played an ox-driving game with the horse dealer's kid. The kid became the ox while I took charge as the driver. If that horse dealer hadn't noticed in time, the poor brat might've strangled himself to death. But it wasn't my fault. They were the ones yanking like crazy. I was just holding tight to my end of the rope.

Since they said, "You should go to school now," I went to school. I was only three hours late.

I returned home at three, but since playing at home might lead to breaking something again, I went out fishing. I cast my line near the waterwheel I’d once failed to make gurgle properly, but only managed to catch two minnows. Since I was bored, I was eating the bread, biscuits, and waffles I had brought. And just as I was thinking it was time to head back, the float suddenly sank. I figured it must have gotten snagged on riverweed again, but since the rod was moving too, I pulled it up—and there it was! I caught it, I caught it—an eel! If you put it into words, it was practically a crocodile of an eel. I returned home swaggering triumphantly.

On the road, an old man from somewhere—

“Young master, have you had luck fishing?” Since he asked, I showed him the eel. “Oh! This is a big one.” “What an achievement!”

He was impressed. I was inwardly proud, but— “Oh, it’s nothing special at all.” I should’ve quit while I was ahead, but I tried to show some humility. Since I’d been humble, the old man—thinking our conversation had ended—went away. What a shame I didn’t let him praise me more.

After dinner, Sister Utako entered the parlor. A girls' school teacher had come to visit. This teacher, despite being a man, frequently visited Sister Utako's place. He had begun visiting even more often since Mr. Inoue with the glass eye stopped coming. As I commandeered the jam in the kitchen and tried to head upstairs, a sound like a train exploding came from the parlor. Sister Utako bounced out to the entryway like a rubber ball. The teacher lay collapsed by the piano. Oshima and the cook rushed over.

Before anyone noticed, Dr. Morikawa had come out and was tending to the teacher thoroughly. What on earth had happened? I had absolutely no idea. Sister Utako was still glaring at me, her face wax-white and trembling. She’s planning to blame me again. Whenever something bad happens, they immediately pin it on me. They really do have a rotten habit.

When Sister Utako tried to play the piano, there was apparently a large snake on top of it. The cowardly one, having startled herself all alone, apparently ended up colliding with the teacher standing nearby. "Why do you play such pranks, Taro?" Dr. Morikawa scolded. He already considered himself part of the family. "I didn't do anything." "You did nothing? Then who put the snake on the piano?" I was amused. Here was a guy who could diagnose appendicitis but couldn't tell a snake from an eel—what a dimwit!

“He’s an eel.” “An eel? An eel?” “Hmph, well, even an eel is in the wrong.” “A piano isn’t a place to put an eel.” “If you scare him so much and he gets sick, what will you do?” What’s this? He’s always saying he could use a few more patients around here. Sister Haruko also backed up Morikawa, calling me an incorrigible mischievous brat. Even Oshima, since Mother was away, had the nerve to join their side. And they ended up blaming even a mosquito on me.

That was right—it was all my fault. It was all my fault anyway. Even if Sister mistook an eel for a snake, even if the teacher fainted—it was all my fault. I truly came to detest being at home. The horse would probably be ruined. To be safe when I asked Oshima, she said it was out of the question. She said that even just the bonsai I had smashed yesterday alone meant a loss of forty or fifty yen. Alright—I wasn't going to stay silent anymore. Taking care of some horse would be nothing but trouble. Better not have one at all. Instead starting tomorrow, I'd get up to loads of mischief.

Yesterday, I went fishing all day. When I returned home in the evening, Sister Utako made a scary face again. “Where have you been playing?” “I went to a friend’s place after school.” “That’s a lie! The janitor came asking why you hadn’t shown up.” I had no choice but to remain silent. “You truly are a hopeless child.” If they wanted to call me a hopeless child, then so be it. Adults always want to trot out that old line and list every sin imaginable. If you saw all their nagging as just different paths leading to “You truly are a hopeless child,” there couldn’t be much wrong with that.

The evening was lively. Sister Utako had invited a whole crowd of friends because she was feeling lonesome. I'd been told to behave myself, so I stayed quiet the whole time—but when I stuck my foot out just a bit, Oshima tripped and sent trays and teacups clattering everywhere. Keeping that clumsy woman around—who knows how much trouble she'll cost us!

Around two in the morning, a great commotion occurred. Sister Utako screamed that thieves had broken in. Sister Haruko and I also hurried downstairs one after the other. Oshima rushed to the neighbor’s house.

“I have a pistol, so it’s dangerous to go up carelessly,” said the cook.

“Oh, it’s fine. The police will be here soon.” The neighbor’s student gripped his wooden sword and put on a fierce warrior’s demeanor. Sister Utako was holding my hand. I couldn’t tell whether she was holding it or gripping it.

“Which room is it? Your room?” “No, it’s Sister Utako’s room.” “He was under my bed.” Then Tadashi brought a policeman. The policeman took the student and the cook upstairs to the second floor. From this point onward, writing about it would be utterly ridiculous. The policeman carried Father’s long boots, and the student came downstairs holding Father’s old coat. Because Tadashi laughed too much, everyone once again decided it was my mischief. “Please take this child away; his daily mischief is unmanageable.”

Sister Utako asked the policeman something like that. Sister Haruko and the cook repeatedly apologized to the policeman. I truly felt sorry. Just then, “Mizuno, I’ve been waiting quite a while. What’s going on?” When another policeman entered, I truly thought I had done something bad. Tadashi wouldn’t stop laughing—what a terrible guy. So the sisters sent a telegram to Father today. After all, they couldn’t possibly handle staying home alone for even a week. Because there was no telling what they might do next, I told them to come home right away. In the end, the horse was done for. No matter what they promise, I’ve yet to receive anything. Why am I so unlucky?

It was about ten days ago.

Tadashi had promised to give me a white mouse but hadn't brought it for ages, so I pressed him about it. Tadashi said he couldn't do it yet because the mice still hadn't given birth. Instead, he made excuses about giving me anything else. I wanted a white mouse - I didn't want anything else. "In that case," I said, "will you do whatever I tell you? Do everything I say, and I'll let it slide." "I'll do anything," Tadashi replied. "But I really don't wanna go oiling train tracks like last time."

“Nah, it’s not that sorta thing.” “Simpler than peeling an apple.”

About a kilometer from my house stood a temple called Tenkakuji. Within its grounds lay the graves of loyal retainers. At the entrance to those graves stood a large sign reading “Gishihaka”. It was written in white on a red background. I had long wanted to add a dakuten to the 'ha' character in this “Gishihaka”. So I promptly ordered Tadashi to do this job. “Will chalk do?” “Chalk would wear off right away.” “It has to be paint.” “We don’t have any paint!”

“The paint’s at school,” I said. “They’ve been repainting the fence lately—just bring some from there.” “We don’t have a brush!” Tadashi protested. This bastard kept making excuses about hating the job—always claiming we lacked something. “I’ve got the brush,” I countered. “There’s Father’s big one.” The temple’s gate had a guard. What’s more, worshippers crowded there daily. I’d been certain Tadashi would get caught, yet by evening he’d returned victorious. I couldn’t help feeling impressed. Today’s newspaper carried this report:

“About a week ago when I passed through Tenkakuji Temple’s grounds, someone’s mischief had altered the loyal retainers’ grave marker to read ‘gishibaka.’ At the time I laughed it off as a prank, but when I passed by today, the sign still said ‘gishibaka.’ Isn’t it utterly irresponsible of the authorities entrusted with one of the capital’s most renowned temples to leave things in such a state? (Meddlesome Student)” What on earth does “irresponsibility” even mean? He’s paint—of course he won’t come off easily! Newspapers just love throwing around “authorities” and “irresponsibility” together willy-nilly. They probably think those words go together like beef and scallions, willows and kemari balls, Christians and sweet red bean rice—or Dr. Morikawa and Haruko! Those irresponsible jerks.

Lately, Father had been extremely worried. Every evening he would anxiously await the arrival of the small newspaper, and upon seeing it would mutter that it had dropped again. Apparently the "golden rod" had dropped. When I asked what a "golden rod" was, Oshima said it meant stocks. When I then asked what stocks were, even Oshima didn't know. Oshima was the sort of woman who acted like she knew everything but actually knew nothing. Just the other day she'd argued with me about how the sun was bigger than Earth. Even Sister Utako had taken their side in the matter, which made me so angry it turned into a proper fight. Then Sister Haruko said we should just agree the Earth was bigger to keep me from crying. If Sister Haruko hadn't said that, humans would've had to die. How could so many people live on an Earth smaller than the sun?

Be that as it may, Father was busy lately, so he couldn’t be bothered with my affairs. Therefore, I was truly at ease. Even when I scribbled pranks on hanging scrolls or cut out magazine pictures, they turned a blind eye. I thought it would be just fine if both the golden rod and stocks kept plummeting. Moreover, Sister Haruko was busy preparing kimonos and rarely appeared. Only Sister Utako remained a nuisance. No matter what she broke, she believed telling Mother would get it fixed. She was hopelessly foolish.

I went to Dr. Morikawa’s house on an errand for Sister Haruko. No matter how many times I went, Dr. Morikawa wouldn’t let me touch anything. He said there were dangerous drugs, so I mustn’t touch them. However, I was allowed to borrow just the stethoscope and examined the live-in student. His live-in student’s chest roared. What a strange fellow. Because an emergency patient had arisen, Dr. Morikawa left with the live-in student. Since he told me, "Stay sitting still in this chair until I return," I did exactly as told. In the end, I yawned so much I thought my head might fall off.

When I thought he'd finally returned, that wasn't the case. A maid from somewhere had come up to get medicine. I didn't know which one was appropriate, but since the red liquid looked rather pretty, I poured that for her. There was a magnificent leather box, so assuming it held jewels, I opened it to find a large scalpel. It gleamed with a lightning-like sharpness, cold as lingering spring. This must cut really well, I thought. Let's try slicing something. Even if I cut down the cherry tree, it'll be fine as long as I don't lie about it.

Then several more people arrived. It was a house people often came to. This time a girl of about ten came to have a splinter removed from her hand. I told her to wait because the doctor would return soon, but since she kept crying in pain, I couldn't bear watching anymore and began treatment. When the scalpel's tip came to a point, she moved her body. Even when I told her not to move, being just a child she wouldn't listen properly. When I startled her by saying "I'll cut you if you move," she burst into tears and kept squirming. Just as I was telling her to hurry home and have her mother bandage it, Dr. Morikawa returned. Being in a tight spot, I promptly handed her over to Dr. Morikawa.

Dr. Morikawa made a frightening face. When he asked if anyone else had come, I answered that someone had come for medicine. When he asked what kind of person it was, I said they looked like this. "Even if you ask where the bottle is, she took it home so it's gone," I told him. When he demanded to know which medicine I'd given them, I answered it was his red one. "This is disastrous! Mamiya, go retrieve it immediately!" The live-in student dashed off as if flames were licking at his heels.

Sister Hanako came to visit. She said she’d stay at our house for two nights before going back. If I stayed quiet, she had promised to take me along with her. Haruko was such a disagreeable brat. Sister Hanako,

"Taro must have finally quieted down by now, don't you think? Or is he still his usual self?" When she said this, Haruko— "Yes indeed, he's become perfectly quiet—so quiet it's positively troublesome."

she said in this annoyingly singsong voice.

I couldn't understand why everyone kept calling me bad. Anyone makes mistakes. Even the Pastor says we can't avoid errors since we're not gods. For instance, breaking Father’s cane was a mistake. To fix that mistake, I’d just cut off the umbrella handle. But I couldn’t patch it up right.

On my way home from school, I detoured to Dr. Morikawa’s place. I thought he’d probably be out in the afternoon and went there, but sure enough, he was away. I had assumed the live-in student would be there anyway, but this guy was gone too. The maid was busily doing laundry. I immediately headed to the medicine room. Wondering just how long the tapeworm was, I took it out of the bottle to see. It wasn’t the legendary centipede of Mount Mikami, but it was certainly a long one. Even after wrapping it once around the room, there was still some left. The carpet was ruined.

I tried to take down the skeleton but was struggling to remove it when some boy showed up. He was making a tearful face and saying his tooth hurt. I told him I'd fix it right away if he helped me, and together we carried the skeleton out to the middle of the examination room. When I asked when his tooth had started hurting, he said it began yesterday. I went to get the chloroform and told him to smell this bottle. He sniffed it with all his might. Even when I told him to put some on his handkerchief, he didn't respond. The cavity must have healed by now. He was sleeping peacefully on the chair. The chloroform smell grew too strong and unpleasant, so I left.

At night, Dr. Morikawa came storming in. When he returned from his patient rounds, he found both the errand boy and maid collapsed. The maid had apparently fainted at the sight of the skeleton. Naturally—anyone would be startled to find a skeleton that should've been on the shelf sitting in a chair right in the middle of the room.

"He declared that since sending Taro was becoming a hindrance to his business operations, they were never to send him over again," and left. Even if Sister Haruko tried to stop him, he wouldn't agree because he was angry. He left in a huff. Dr. Morikawa is a short-tempered person.

I was of course scolded by everyone. Sister Hanako probably wouldn’t take me along after all. Dr. Morikawa had canceled his engagement to Sister Haruko. My sister had already nearly finished preparing for her wedding, so having things turn out like this now would be a tremendous loss. By the time she found a new marriage partner from here on out, her kimonos and hats might have fallen out of fashion. I couldn’t just stay silent. Especially since I was the cause of this incident, I couldn’t let it pass like smoke through my fingers.

The root of the problem was a single cat. There can’t possibly be any rule allowing broken engagements before marriage over something as trivial as a single cat. No matter what anyone says, Dr.Morikawa is absolutely in the wrong. Tadashi and I tampered with Dr.Morikawa’s electrical device. I remained completely unharmed, but Tadashi touched something like an electric current and passed out. Then Dr.Morikawa grew furious, saying that people constantly fainting in a doctor’s house would ruin his practice. It perfectly showed how I was interfering with Dr.Morikawa’s profession. I wasn’t in the wrong at all. The real culprit was Edison. Since he went and invented such a dangerous machine without anyone asking, Tadashi suffered in bed for three whole days. To blame that on me was completely missing the mark.

Mice kept appearing in Dr.Morikawa’s medicine room, causing trouble. In fact,Mamiya the live-in student went so far as to ask about extermination methods and sought my esteemed opinion. For someone who made a habit of vanquishing invisible bacteria, being unable to handle such large mice made him one hell of a contradictory bastard.

I borrowed the calico cat from Tadashi's house and went to Dr. Morikawa's place. This cat was female with a black nose, making it skilled at catching mice. Just the other day, it had even caught a neighbor's chicken. Since I'd promised not to enter the medicine room anymore, I stood by the window holding the cat. There was nobody inside—and no mice either. So I waited there for about thirty minutes. Then a mouse appeared, so I opened the window and let the cat in. When the mouse climbed onto the shelf, the cat leaped up after it and knocked over the medicine bottles. Though the medicine room was left in shambles, the real victim was the cat. Drenched in sulfuric acid, it yowled in pain while thrashing about the room. Startled by the commotion, Dr. Morikawa opened the medicine room door. The cat launched itself straight at his face.

The next morning, Dr. Morikawa came to see Father. His face had been burned by sulfuric acid, with three or four plasters applied. His nose had swollen to nearly twice its normal size. Haruko burst out laughing. Of course, I laughed too. But Sister Haruko laughed so hard she nearly rolled on the floor. Dr. Morikawa did not laugh at all. His face must have been too stiff to laugh. After some discussion with Father, he left in a huff.

Everyone in the household scolded me. Haruko had been living like a goldfish without eating anything since that day. Sister Utako would strike my ears whenever she got near. I’m not some plum-branch basin you can just beat on—hitting me won’t make Dr. Morikawa come back. However, this was nothing more than a single regrettable mistake. I only meant to catch the mice, thinking it would be foolish to let pests run rampant in a doctor’s house—it was done purely out of kindness, and certainly not from any scheme to make Sister Haruko a spinster for life. If this is considered bad, then I don’t think there’s a single good thing left in the world.

Today, Sister Haruko cried again. Utako's friends—two whole friends—came visiting, and though someone should have stopped them, they blabbered about how Dr. Morikawa had gone to Tomiko's house yesterday and the day before. Women seem unable to keep from chattering like chicks whenever they see someone's face. While eating dinner, thinking about Sister Haruko made me feel so sorry for her that only six bowls made it down my throat. I briefly considered going to Dr. Morikawa's place to settle things, but then realized that bastard Mamiya would surely slam the door in my face. But at any rate, after telling Oshima, I left the house.

Because I had a plan, I hurried along. And ten minutes later, I was ringing Ms. Tomiko’s doorbell so hard it might break.

The maid came out, looked at my face, and laughed. What a rude woman! But today, I couldn’t afford to deal with this woman, so I said I had business with Ms. Tomiko.

“Oh, Mr. Taro?”

Ms. Tomiko looked startled. There was no need for her to make such a fuss. It wasn't like I'd come back from exploring the North Pole.

“Is Dr. Morikawa here?”

“Well… He has not yet arrived this evening.”

She gave an evasive reply. “If he’s not here, fine. But I intend to sue Dr. Morikawa in court, so kindly pass that along. Just because a cat knocked over some medicine bottles, there’s no law saying you can’t hold a wedding! The fact that Sister laughed is obviously Sister’s own fault. I’m sorry, but she’s a hysteric! Hysteria makes you laugh at anything. What will you do if Sister dies? If she keeps refusing to eat anything like that, she’ll definitely die. I challenge Dr. Morikawa to a duel. I even brought a dagger. And I’ll publish everything about him begging me to keep quiet in the newspaper! And Sister Haruko too—”

Suddenly, someone grabbed Nokō from behind and covered his mouth. Before Nokō could even think *Huh?*, he was picked up. “Taro, apologize. Let’s stop this quarrel already.” It was Dr. Morikawa’s voice. Dr. Morikawa, still holding Nokō, greeted Ms. Tomiko and went outside. “Taro, let’s make up now, okay? Since I’m coming along now, please take me to Sister Haruko.”

Along the way, Dr. Morikawa asked Nokō about various things. Whether Sister Haruko was truly not eating anything, whether her complexion was bad, whether Father was angry, what Mother had said—along with about a dozen other questions—so Nokō grew utterly fed up. After returning home, Nokō showed Dr. Morikawa into the parlor. He listened to Nokō’s words silently, like a child. “Please sit in this chair and keep your right hand on the table,” “I’ll go get Sister Haruko right away, so…”

Dr. Morikawa decided to take a photograph and was doing exactly as Nokō had instructed. When he was normally like this, he was quite a handsome man. Nokō promptly ran up to Sister Haruko’s room.

“Sister, Sister, please come down for a moment.”

Sister Haruko did not respond. She was staring down.

"Sis, I've got something good here." "Something you'll really like..." "Just leave me alone—I don't want to see or hear anything right now." "But what if it's your absolute favorite thing?" "You'll regret missing out!" "I don't want any chocolate." "It's not food. "It's alive..." A knock sounded at the door. Dr. Morikawa had lost patience and come upstairs. I won't write what happened next—it's too pathetic.

First, it concerned Dr. Morikawa’s judgment. In any case, Dr. Morikawa undid the cancellation of the cancellation, and once his nose healed, he would hold a wedding ceremony with Sister Haruko and apparently host a concert of something called a “harmonious duet.”

The teacher still came to visit Sister Utako. That was the grammar teacher，and I heard he had already been at Sister Utako’s school for four years. Every day it was past tense，perfect aspect，and so on. If he kept saying things like “present tense” and “perfect aspect” every day，it must have been dreadfully tedious. I had surmised that he came to visit Sister Utako out of boredom，but I just couldn’t stand this man. An ordinary person would naturally stop coming after fainting from his eel. As for Mr.Inoue，ever since I glared at him，even whether he was dead or alive became impossible to tell. Yet this teacher was a completely unrepentant fool. Even when I hid his cane，he came nonchalantly. Today，I hid his newly purchased straw hat. Even Father came out and scolded me，but I remained silent like a turtle. By now，Tadashi must have been putting newborn white mice into his hat. Once they were separated from their parents，I was supposed to get two of them.

I caught a cold and stayed in bed for about ten days. Mine wasn't just a regular cold—that's why it took so long. It was Tadashi's fault. When I went fishing with Tadashi, he suggested we go swimming. I didn't know how to swim. So I said, "You're an idiot if you swim from May! You'll get sick!" trying to brush it off. But Tadashi wouldn't agree. "I'll swim whenever I feel like it—May or June! During war you gotta swim even freezing!" he said. I thought Tadashi's logic made sense somehow, so with no choice I started swimming in shallow water. Tadashi stayed fine but I caught a cold. If anyone should've gotten deathly sick it should've been Tadashi who started it all—but no! Me who had no reason ended up like this! Truly idiotic. The world's full of this kinda backwards logic.

Today was finally Sister Haruko and Dr. Morikawa’s wedding day. When it was Sister Hanako’s turn, I had helped out in all sorts of ways, but this time I had fallen ill, so there was nothing to be done. I would at least attend the ceremony and the feast. My throat felt a bit off, but if I endured it, I could eat most things—I was lying there thinking this when I heard Dr. Morikawa and Sister Haruko talking.

“He’s already fully recovered.” “True, but let’s administer some medicine and keep him confined another day.” “We can’t predict what mischief he might attempt—this is the prudent course.” “So long as that boy remains bedridden, no mishaps can occur.” “Yes, if you could kindly explain matters first, I’d feel reassured. Though it does seem rather cruel…” “Nonsense—there’s nothing cruel about it.” “Simply leave sweets by his bedside—that should suffice.” I gaped in disbelief. The ungrateful wretches! After all I’d done for them… Appearances truly deceive. Henceforth, viewing everyone as potential thieves would prove wiser than languishing abed. Even Haruko conspired to keep me imprisoned here. Medicine? I’d sooner swallow poison! My own judgment shall guide me. I resolved to crash their precious wedding come what may.

It seemed they were truly intent on keeping me bedridden, so since they wouldn't give me any clothes, I threw a futon over my nightshirt. With a crowd having gathered downstairs, going out in this getup would mean instant capture. Left with no choice, I climbed out the window, slid down the drainpipe, and bolted for the church. The elderly gatekeeper was sweeping the garden, but I seized my chance and slipped into the chapel. Not a soul had arrived yet. By now, I figured everything was settled.

Behind the pulpit stood rows upon rows of chairs. A good number of flowers had been placed as well. I slipped beneath the chairs. Though terribly cramped, I held my breath and endured. I waited and waited until my legs began to go numb—that's when people started arriving. A crowd had gathered by the sound of it, but being covered by the futon, I couldn't make out any faces. Nothing reached me but the murmur of voices. Then, amidst it all, the organ began to play, the pastor made his entrance, and at last the wedding ceremony commenced. My legs had gone completely numb.

The hymns ended, the prayers concluded, and when the pastor began reading it, I was delighted. I didn't know what that thing was, but because of it, I had been crouching under a chair for over three hours.

“Dearly assembled, we have gathered here in God’s holy presence so that this man and woman may perform the sacred rite of marriage. Now, marriage is that which God ordained from ancient times when humankind had not yet sinned; the Lord Jesus attended the wedding feast at Cana in Galilee and blessed it with His first miracle; Paul compared it to the unity of Christ and His Church, and further taught you all to hold marriage in all honor. Now, these two are about to establish a sacred vow and perform the marriage ceremony. “If anyone among you knows of any lawful cause why these two may not be joined in marriage, let them speak now at once…”

I, who had been all ears, kicked back the chair and leaped out at that moment. And then I said this: “This marriage isn’t proper. I declare. I object to this marriage.” The entire assembly erupted into chaos. Among the women, there were even those who raised crying voices. They probably thought I was a polar bear or something. Sister Haruko gripped Dr.Morikawa’s hand and turned pale. It seemed she was worried Dr.Morikawa would run away. Father, Mother, Sister Hanako, and even Aunt were all just glaring at my face in silence. The pastor looked between me and Dr.Morikawa in exasperation.

“You give medicine to her younger brother even though he’s not sick. “And then you try to stop me from attending the wedding ceremony. “A doctor who does such things can’t become my brother-in-law. “I think this marriage should not proceed. “I beg you to cancel this. “I declare.”

Everyone laughed. The family alone remained silent as stone. Just as Father had started to rise, Dr.Morikawa stepped forward and said. He said softly.

“Taro, please come down.” “I’m sorry.” “I’m apologizing, so please come here.” “I can’t possibly win against you.” “I’m sorry.” “I’ll never do it again, so please, Taro, come here.” “Alright then.” “Pastor, please proceed with the wedding ceremony.” “Since I’m in my nightclothes, I’ll wait here.”

With that, I crawled back under the chairs again. The remainder of the ceremony was grand, but here and there the attendees occasionally giggled. What fools! A church isn't a place for laughter. Though I'm called wicked through and through, I've never once laughed in church or whispered there. After the ceremony ended, I went home with everyone else. Neither Father nor Mother said anything in particular. Just for today, it must have been because I was in the right. Mr. Shimizu and Sister Hanako sat me between them and fed me everything.

“You never change, do you?” Sister Hanako guffawed. Sister Haruko also smirked. Because we’ve changed, they think others will change too.

Aunt had been angry earlier, but she seemed to have regained her good spirits and came to Sister Haruko’s wedding. Apparently elderly people act just like children. She had just arrived. She gave Sister Haruko a high-quality ring. Aunt’s name was Haruko, and Sister Haruko’s name was also Haruko. Sister had received Aunt’s name and was named Haru. Therefore Sister Haruko received a ring engraved with the character 'Haru' as a wedding gift. One never knows what brings happiness in this world. It would have been nice if I’d been given the name Harunosuke too. Neither Hachiman Taro nor Ando Taro will give me anything. Taro is such a lousy name.

Aunt was someone who asked about everything under the sun. She must’ve gotten senile in her old age. What really stumped me was how Uncle in Osaka kept badgering me about why he’d gotten angry. Not knowing the full story myself, I fed him some cockamamie tale about a donkey dropping a trumpet down a well and Pochi gobbling up eyeglasses.

“How about Sister—did she like the ring?” “Well, she said this.” “Since Aunt made it, she said it’s behind the times.” “But she said the stone and metal are good quality, so she’s going to have it remade.”

“Is that so? Is that what she says? The girls these days are so impertinent—it’s a real problem.” Aunt didn’t get angry at all. She was far easier to handle than Uncle in Osaka.

“Has Aunt already been digging in her heels for ten years?” “What do you mean, Taro?” “The sisters said so.” “With his share still unsettled for the time being, she’ll probably keep digging in her heels for about ten years.” “Truly, is that so?” “Do you just crunch away on takuan pickles or whatever, even though you’re old?”

Just as Mother came in, I came out.

The pastor came. That pastor really was a strange fellow. In recent years, those who got married at his church weren't just Mr. Shimizu and Dr. Morikawa. I remember there being two or three others too - what an odd duck he was, marrying everyone else off while staying single himself. When I asked why, he answered that pastors must remain unmarried - only through celibacy could they fully fulfill their divine calling. What ridiculously convoluted logic. But I played along and agreed, saying "Ah yes, that makes sense." It must be true. If that pastor ever married himself, there'd be nobody left to officiate the ceremonies. Unless you're Tenichi himself, you can't be both groom and pastor at your own wedding. So that's why the rascal stays single.

Since he often told me to come to Sunday school, I promised to go that Sunday. This time, I wasn't bringing anything like a pistol.

In the midst of this, when I took out some drops from my pocket and ate them, he asked, “Do you like drops?” “I love drops,” I answered. “I bought these with the reward I got for delivering Sister Utako’s letters.” When he asked where I had taken the letters, I answered that I had taken them to the grammar teacher who came to visit us. “Is that so? Did you deliver them often?” This time, he even asked about the frequency. He was such a nosy fellow. Wasn’t the Pastor supposed to be the one doing the teaching?

“Yes, I deliver them almost every day.”

And Taro lied. “Then does that teacher come to visit every night?” And the Pastor kept asking.

"Yes, he comes every night indeed. Because that person comes over, Sister hasn't been going to church lately." This time, I told him a bit of the truth. Then the Pastor said, "Buy yourself some drops," and gave me a fifty-sen silver coin. He was quite an admirable fellow. And now he had to go home and prepare his sermon. He told me to come to church with Sister on Sunday, then left with a pale face.

Tadashi, Rokko, and Kiyoshi came over to play. Because it was raining and we couldn’t go outside, we played games like Gomoku and Hasami Shogi in Father’s study, making a racket. Finally, Kiyoshi suggested playing a pretend property seizure game. When I asked what kind of game property seizure was, he said it was really fun. When I said, “Alright, let’s do it,” he asked if we had any paper. “Would writing paper work?” “Writing paper’s perfect.” Taro pulled out Father’s desk drawer and searched, but there was none. Then Kiyoshi found postage stamps and,

“These are better. Using writing paper would be a hassle since we’d have to cut it,” Kiyoshi said. As I wondered what he’d do next and watched, Kiyoshi went around pasting stamps one by one—not just on Father’s desk and bookcase, but even on frames and scroll mountings. “If you paste this many stamps, won’t the postman take them away?” “It’s fine. As long as you don’t put them in the mailbox, it’s fine.” That made sense. The bookcase was so big it couldn’t possibly fit into the mailbox, so there was nothing to worry about. But when I thought Father might not get angry upon returning home, I started to worry.

“I hate this. If Father comes home and gets angry, I’ll be in trouble.”

“Your dad won’t get angry—he’ll just be surprised.” “My dad was really surprised.” “And then he said there was nothing to be done about it.” “So you’re the one who pasted them after all?” “It wasn’t me.” “It was someone else who came and pasted them.” “And then my family became poor.” Though it sounded unbelievable, I kept waiting eagerly to surprise Father. But Father didn’t act surprised—he just got angry straight away. Then he said “You never do anything decent!” and whacked me with his briefcase. Kiyoshi’s a liar. That guy will end up a thief someday.

The circus would start tomorrow. Today, I did nothing but look at the advertisements. It was like a mix of a circus and a zoo, with all sorts of rare animals coming. It seemed I'd become quite studious, as I could now read about half of the circus advertisements. For the characters I didn't know, I'd asked my friends, so today alone I'd learned quite a few new ones. Even at school, they should quit textbooks and make us read circus advertisements instead. It stated that since it would also serve as an aid in teaching natural history to children, teachers and parents hoped to grant them a day's holiday. They were genuinely hoping for a good thing.

During arithmetic class, the teacher asked, "Have you finished the answers?" and took my slate to check. And then he said, "I'll give you ten penalty points." On my slate, a large elephant had somehow been drawn. It appears I had intended to do arithmetic but was thinking about the circus.

I went to see Tadashi at the circus. Since we arrived too early, we wandered around looking at the animals. When we fed a monkey bread laced with chili pepper, it sneezed wildly, which was hilarious. Just as we were about to try again, the guard stormed over furiously, so we made our way to the elephants instead. Elephants are such odd creatures. Their eyes looked ridiculously narrow compared to their massive faces. If monkeys are cousins to humans, then elephants must be long-lost brothers of whales. Someone handed me an enormous loaf of bread. This one too had chili pepper secretly mixed in. Thinking it was enjoying the treat sweetly, I moved closer to offer another piece—but that ungrateful beast just wouldn't appreciate kindness. Without warning, it coiled its trunk around me and flung me through the air. I luckily crashed onto a line of sheep instead of the ground, escaping unharmed—though the poor sheep got squashed flat on their bottoms and stayed that way.

“I won’t care if you get hurt!” The guard glared, and the circus master came out. “Careful, careful! You’re not hurt? What a lucky boy. “Like Jonah!” he said. Jonah was swallowed by a whale. I wasn’t swallowed—an elephant threw me! This circus master seems clueless about the Bible. What a pitiful man. Why does that giraffe have such a ridiculously long neck? While I imagined how modern it’d look wearing Western clothes, Tadashi got his hand pecked by a parrot.

“Why do you do such dangerous things? I won’t give a hoot if you get hurt!” I scolded him. If Tadashi got hurt, it’d be my fault before you could blink.

The circus riders were truly skilled. Why did his horse obey him so perfectly? They must’ve practiced relentlessly to escape the ring like that woman could. A kid my age once stood doing a shachi pose on the old man’s head. If it’s just that level, even I could manage it. If only Father had become a circus rider too. But with no such ambition in him, there was no helping it.

Today I went to see the circus again and finally made up my mind. I will become a circus performer. It’s better to do those acrobatics and get praised than stay home getting scolded. So I came up with this plan and intend to escape now. The circus people will depart at two o'clock tonight. All I need is to slip quietly into one of their wagons. Once we're far enough away,I'll ask the master to take me as his apprentice. A week of practice should make me good enough. Then I'll wear a bright red costume doing rope jumps and handstands on his horse. The crowd will clap their hands. That just struck eleven. Twelve-thirteen? No-twelve...one...two-still three hours left. Better go early and wait there. If I disappear,Mother will be shocked,but since this means getting ahead in life,there's no helping it.

The circus people were preparing to depart. There were many carts lined up. No luggage was loaded yet. I seized my chance and climbed into a large box on a cart, covering myself from head to toe with a furoshiki cloth. Now that I had done this, I felt reassured that I could become an apprentice.

I must have fallen asleep soon after. When I woke up, the car was moving. I must have woken up because the car was rattling and creaking so much. When I looked outside, the stars were shining. Ah, when I thought that this might mean saying goodbye to Mother and sisters, I felt a little sad. My body kept jostling, the cart creaked noisily, and the carter wouldn’t stop yelling at the horse—there was no way I could sleep. If I dozed off even a little, I would immediately wake up again. Inside it was growing brighter.

Wondering what on earth this box was and looking around, I was shocked. About three feet away, there was a lion. And what's more, it was staring fixedly at my face. It was lying down just as it had been when I saw it at the circus, resting its chin on its front paws. The night had already ended.

I wondered what to do. When I moved slightly, the lion growled. If I stayed perfectly still here, it just silently watched my face. It blinked occasionally. It was going to attack any moment now. I bowed to the lion. Then it growled again. There was nothing I could do but stay frozen. If I remained motionless, it kept silently gazing at me. It might attack at any moment. It was truly unsettling.

I closed my eyes and prayed the Lord’s Prayer. The lion remained in its former posture. I repeated the Lord’s Prayer five or six times. "Oh?" I thought—when I opened my eyes, the lion was licking my forehead. When I regained consciousness, I lay on grassy plains. A crowd had formed around me. They were spitting water onto my face.

“Ah, I wasn’t eaten!”

“You were almost eaten there!” said the carter.

“How on earth did you get inside there?” the circus master said in amazement. Then I explained that I had hidden in the box because I wanted to become an apprentice. They all burst into laughter and told me to hurry back to my mother.

“That was dangerous.” “That lion was sick—we had to move it into its own box last night.” “If it hadn’t been sick, you would’ve been eaten.” “Close call.” “You’re quite the little Jonah.”

Jonah didn't get into a lion's box. The one who entered the lion's den was Daniel. The circus master likens everything to Jonah. And he doesn't seem likely to take me on as his apprentice. Besides, I had already started wanting to go home, so I had one of his underlings escort me back.

I arrived home in the evening. Having walked such a long way, blisters had formed on my feet. Everyone in the house welcomed me with joy. It was just like when the prodigal son returned from his journey. After all, it's better to stay at home. When I asked Oshima, she said Mother had cried all day. They'd apparently sent telegrams to Aunt and sent people searching everywhere, causing a great commotion. I will never run away again. Father gave money to thank the man who brought me back. I'll never become a circus performer again.

Summer vacation would be here soon. Tadashi was apparently going away for the summer to escape the heat. “Once vacation starts and he plays with me every day,” she said, “he might end up getting hurt eventually—we should go to the coast as soon as possible.” That guy’s mom was truly clueless. If you keep talking so spitefully like that, people won’t find you endearing. Mother said it wasn’t just Taro who was to blame. Tadashi could be quite the troublemaker himself. But even so, Mother was too kind-hearted to speak her mind. Still, I got along best with Tadashi. We sometimes fought but quickly made up again. It was hilarious how us kids got along while our mothers glared at each other. Tadashi gave me snake eggs. He’d taken five and given me two. Tadashi swore they’d become vipers, but I figured they’d just be rat snakes. Vipers would’ve been something! Since I didn’t know what they’d become, I’d hidden them inside the parlor stove. I usually checked two or three times daily, but today I was too busy playing to look even once. They might’ve already hatched by now.

Today was quite hot. The grammar teacher is such a nuisance of a fellow. He had stationed himself by the snake eggs and was having a conversation with Utako. No matter how many times I went to check, they didn’t move. In the backyard pond, the frogs are croaking incessantly, but no matter how much they croak, they show no sign of leaving. “The part where your bamboo sword gets taken must be amusing, don’t you think?” “And then when you go, ‘There! That’s where your bamboo sword gets taken!’—that part must be amusing, don’t you think?” “And then you had your kote taken there too, didn’t you?” And the two of them were laughing as if amused. Not the least bit amusing! What a hopeless fool.

I decided I no longer cared and stomped into the parlor. And then I stood there silently. I thought that if I did this, they would move away from the stove, but they kept talking as if nothing was wrong. Why did they have so little public-mindedness? I was truly getting annoyed.

Then the doorbell rang. When I thought it might be someone and was about to go answer it, Sister called out, “Taro, wait!”, and gave me a private order.

“If it’s Ms. Tomiko, tell her we’re out. Go check quickly.” At the entrance, Ms. Tomiko had come with two friends. When they asked for my sister,

“My sister isn’t home, so it’s no use. If it’s Ms. Tomiko, she’s not home no matter what. I refuse. She’s busy talking with the teacher, so there’s nothing to be done about it.” I flatly refused. Ms. Tomiko left, pulling her friends by the hand without even saying “In that case, very well.” Sister Utako flew into a frenzy and yanked my ear. It’s said that since Ms. Tomiko is a notorious chatterbox, there’s no telling what she might say when she goes to school tomorrow. The teacher, noticing that Sister Utako’s mood had changed, took his leave. He had also been troubled when his hat went missing. My white mice were delighted that their nest had grown larger.

That teacher was an extremely unlucky fellow. He kept coming to my house and meeting with cruel treatment. He was made to faint，had his cane broken，had his hat taken by Tadashi—it was all just one terrible thing after another. Yet he kept coming back，undeterred and unrepentant. What a truly thick-skinned man! That’s why he had his hat taken again! That’s why he remained unaware even when his Western-style umbrella got torn! Since the other day，Ms.Yuriko and her mother had been staying at my house. Mother and Sister Utako were on guard，worried I might cause mischief，but since I got along so well with Ms.Yuriko，I never did anything bad—Ms.Yuriko was two years older than me. Utako was pretty too，but Ms.Yuriko—still being a child—was adorable.

I said to Oshima.

“I wonder what’s wrong, Oshima. When Ms. Yuriko comes into my room, I get so happy my heart pounds.” “But after she leaves, I feel sort of lonely.” Oshima stifled a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Even when asked, she kept laughing. Even when I threatened to hit her if she laughed, she kept laughing. What a fool. And laughing, she said this.

“It’s because Young Master is in love with Ms. Yuriko.”

“Maybe so, maybe not.”

“That is indeed the case. It’s because you’re in love—when Ms. Yuriko comes, your heart races, you know.” And she laughed again. I thought that perhaps that might indeed be the case. Then Oshima was an utterly rotten person. “Young Master, why don’t you buy some flowers and try giving them to Ms. Yuriko? If Ms. Yuriko accepts them and blushes, then she’s in love with you too.” “What if she doesn’t blush?”

“In that case, Young Master, you’re heartbroken.” I figured I’d probably end up heartbroken. But since Oshima kept urging me so much, I thought it was worth a try and decided to give her flowers. And Oshima promised to keep quiet. If she tried to talk, I’d expose how I gave money for his dirty look the other day.

I promptly splurged fifty sen on flowers, bought them, and gave them to Ms.Yuriko. "Thank you," was all Ms.Yuriko said, keeping a straight face. There, see? I ended up heartbroken after all. I'm never playing with such a heartless person again—I don't care! Thanks to Oshima, I wasted fifty sen.

Today, I filled the chimney with gunpowder and made it explode. Because of that, the furnishings in the room were largely destroyed. Father and Mother both scolded me, but whether I was actually at fault or not—I wanted someone with a bit of sense to judge that.

When I went to Rokko’s house to play, Rokko showed me a splendid picture postcard album. When I asked where he’d bought it, he said he’d received it last Christmas. And he said he got it from Santa Claus—now that was something special, I tell you.

Last Christmas, I received various gifts from both Father and Mother. However, Santa Claus didn’t give me anything. Did Santa Claus forget to stop by my house? There’s no way he came to Rokko’s house without stopping by mine. That guy’s house and mine are no more than three chō apart. Not only that, but Tadashi definitely said he saw Santa Claus. Of course, that guy didn’t receive anything because he didn’t make a sound.

Santa Claus must have come to my house too. He must have come alright, but got stuck because our chimney was too narrow—that's for certain. With that cramped thing, not even a kid could squeeze through.

So even though there were still six months until Christmas, thinking it better to start preparing now, I destroyed the chimney. If this is considered bad, then everyone preparing for Christmas must be bad too. Without understanding this logic, they think it's fine to just scold me outright. Instead of that, I should've quickly called a plasterer and had them build a chimney about one ken square. Getting my hands burned and being scolded—it was truly absurd.

I had a headache since morning, and my throat was sore—it was awful. So I decided to skip school. Mother gave me medicine, thinking it was probably diphtheria. She planned to watch my condition and intended to call Dr. Morikawa if things got worse. But by around nine o'clock, I'd completely recovered, so I went out to play.

When I went to invite Tadashi, Mother came out with a terrifying face and said, "Tadabō has a headache and sore throat—he's in bed." As if this were all my doing! That Tadashi's utterly hopeless anyway. It was already past nine o'clock. Break your promises and you'll lose all credibility! With no other options, I went to Sister Haruko's house. You'd think saying "Come play sometime" wouldn't bring divine punishment—yet Sister Haruko and Dr. Morikawa remain such wishy-washy people. Even if the heavens fell, I bet they'd still never utter those words.

However, Sister Haruko treated me better than I had expected. She kept bringing out snacks and whatever else I wanted. But for some reason, Sister Haruko wasn’t talking much with Dr. Morikawa. Thinking it strange, I later asked Mr. Miyagi and learned that the doctor and the Madam had clashed that morning. “It was over the kimono matter that Madam got angry.” “Exactly—that must be it!” “You certainly know that well, Taro.” “She gets angry right away if she doesn’t like the kimono, you see. She’s been like that ever since she was at home.”

And I gave an adult-like, knowing reply. This student, being a studious type, maintained a thoroughly meticulous and investigative attitude as he monitored Dr. Morikawa and Sister Haruko. They were hulking figures with childlike dispositions. So Sister Haruko had treated me kindly on his account. Being pampered was fine, but being coddled out of spite wasn't the least bit gratifying.

I had a near-death experience this summer that nearly finished me off. To say I encountered danger makes it sound like someone else caused it, but it was actually my own doing—this time I couldn't blame anyone. If I'd died right then and there, how Mother would have mourned. Even now when I remember that, tears overflow.

Throughout the summer, I was taken on a trip by Father and Mother. Mother had been stressed from dealing with marrying off my two older sisters and Utako’s engagement arrangements when I caused her extra trouble by running off with a lion and disappearing on a balloon ride—all of which ended up taking a slight toll on her health. So I suggested that if Father took a trip during the summer, it would be a good idea—and offered to accompany him. I agreed it was an excellent plan but ended up suffering for my approval. It turned out Sister Utako and I were supposed to stay behind and look after the house. They were treating people like fools.

But as people often say, who can tell what brings happiness in this world? Sister Utako politely declined, saying she absolutely couldn't take on house-sitting if it meant being together with me. That's only natural. Sister had had enough after just one time. But I hadn't expected her to leave like this. While delighting in how the conversation was growing more amiable, I was striking a shachi pose in the garden. Then Pochi came running there and licked my head. He thinks we're friends, damn it.

“Pochi, Pochi, quiet down already. I’ll take you to Niagara too.” Pochi wagged his tail happily. Because he had the nerve to understand human words despite being just a dog, I whacked his head.

I forgot what day in July it was when we departed, but I believe it was still before dawn. Dr. Morikawa and Sister Haruko came to the station to see us off. From home came Sister Utako and Oshima. Everyone bid Father and Mother farewell with wishes for safe travels while they told me not to make a racket on my way there and back. They probably think it’s fine even if I’m in a bad mood. That’s why I ended up in such danger.

“Taro, you can’t just get off at every station like that.” “It’s so dangerous I can’t take my eyes off you for a second!” “No, I went to check what happened to Pochi. If night doesn’t break soon, it’ll be too dark to see anything.” “What did you do to Pochi?” “I brought Pochi with me.” “Brought him? “Where did you put him?” “He’s tied to the last car.”

Mother turned pale,

“You must stop the train immediately—it’s an emergency!”

She begged Father.

“What? What’s going on?” “What’s happened?” “Please ring the bell quickly—if you don’t hurry, he’ll die!”

I yanked the emergency alarm cord with all my might. The train had been running at full speed until then but came to a sudden stop with a dreadful noise. All the passengers turned pale. They must have thought some calamitous incident had occurred. Mother asked the conductor to check the last car. However, stopping the train had been unnecessary. Pochi was no longer there. The end of the thin rope I had tied to the car’s axle held nothing but a single dog’s ear. It was truly pitiable for Pochi. All because I wanted to let him see the sights, I ended up doing something reckless.

“There was never such a silent dog.”

Mother looked like she was about to cry. "There’s no fool like you." Father scolded me. The conductor made a face like he wanted to devour me. Because I was playing around all over the train car, Mother spent the whole day worrying. So as soon as the sun set, I was shoved into my berth. But try as I might, I couldn’t fall asleep. The guy in the berth next to mine was snoring thunderously, and it was utterly unbearable. It’s not your private sleeping car—you need to keep quiet! If you don’t keep quiet, you’ll be sorry. No matter what I say, he just keeps rumbling away nonchalantly. He’s completely lacking in public spirit.

I was so furious that I quietly got up and jabbed the guy’s foot with a pin. He’d stay quiet only when poked, but would start right up again moments later. So I lay down and got up five or six times. Finally, he let out a loud “Ouch! Ouch!” Even his snoring alone had been nuisance enough—now he was crying? What a truly unreasonable man. But after that incident, he must’ve learned his lesson, for he stopped making that rumbling noise altogether.

In the midst of this, I became thirsty. If I were to ask for water, the attendant would bring it, but thinking that calling someone would disturb others' sleep, I quietly got up and went to drink water.

Returning as quietly as a mouse and crawling into bed, I was thrown off the berth with a shriek of “Kyaa!” “Oh! Someone, please come quick!” The attendant rushed over and suddenly grabbed me by the collar. And then he began roughly shaking me back and forth. He must have mistaken me for a dusty overcoat. On my berth, a certain Madam was crying. This commotion woke everyone in the train car. Father and Mother apologized profusely to this Madam. The Madam apparently didn’t consider me a child. I hadn't thought it was his wife's berth either.

Mother was telling Father things like how it would have been better not to bring me on this trip. But since we had already arrived at Niagara the very next day, there was nothing to be done. If it meant encountering such treatment, I too truly shouldn’t have gone on this trip. The waterfall was enormous. Even several miles away, its roar could be heard like distant thunder. At the waterfall itself, rainbows were constantly arching through the mist, creating a truly spectacular sight. Beyond the rainbows, there were many other sights to see in this area. The waterfall had four distinct viewing angles. Namely, the outer side, inner side—and another inner side that could be viewed by passing behind the curtain of water. Furthermore, there were both Canadian and American sides. Geography books might describe this waterfall’s appearance, but its grandeur and solemnity were ultimately impossible to convey through pen and ink. If a magician like Tenichi were to put this waterfall into a giant glass box and exhibit it as a spectacle around the world, it would surely draw huge crowds. There’s no telling how much it might help children learn geography and landforms. However, everyone was astonished by how exorbitant the carriage fares were. Father said he’d been more shocked by the carriage prices than by the waterfall itself. Admittedly, you wouldn’t need carriages for such a spectacle anyway. If one were to just take the waterfall as-is by canning it or something similar, there’d be no problem.

On the day Taro arrived, a French acrobat was preparing to walk a tightrope over this waterfall. Mother called him a madman, though he showed no signs of lunacy. To casual observation, he appeared perfectly composed. Taro and Father went to watch the feat. But Mother—weary and averse to such dangers—entrusted Taro to Father with strict instructions never to let him out of sight, then withdrew alone to their inn.

The Frenchman was going to cross this waterfall on a rope. He held British and American flags in both hands. If he fell, it would be disastrous. It was truly a life-risking endeavor. But that man wouldn’t fall. Even if he fell, he wouldn’t die as he was. He’d surely turn into a carp. I imagined him becoming a carp and climbing up Niagara Falls this time. The spectators roared with applause. The Frenchman, after fumbling through his preparations, made this proposal: “Is there no one who will let me carry them on my back across?” “It’s safe.” “If all goes well, that person’s fame will resound worldwide.” “Should anything go wrong, I’ll pay five hundred yen as compensation.” “Is there no one who will go?—Hmm, this needs consideration,” I thought.

If I went to the opposite shore with that acrobat, I could truly make my fame resound throughout the world. If all went well, products like Taro Soap, Taro Musk, and Taro Kara would be created, and I’d be celebrated something fierce. Even if there were a mishap, since he said he’d present 500 yen, it wouldn’t be much of a loss. Fortunately, Father had run into an unexpected friend, so I was left unattended while he engaged in fervent conversation. I requested the acrobat to take me along.

Then the acrobat greatly praised Taro and let him hold a flag. “Close your eyes now. Hold on tight. Just leave everything to me and rest assured. Imagine you’re lying on a futon at home. Don’t even think about the waterfall below. All set?”

Just when things were at their worst, a policeman came and caught me.

“Outrageous! Where are your parents?” He probably intended to charge Father with child abuse. Then Father came running and yelled at the Frenchman. If the policeman hadn’t stopped him, he might have struck him. Taro had truly suffered a loss.

While in Niagara, Mother couldn't leave Taro's side for even a single second anymore; she grumbled that this made their trip feel like they'd come seeking hardship. Mother clung to Taro like glue. She didn't take her eyes off him for a moment. Taro was truly worn down.

The next day, after buying souvenirs for Sister Utako, we went to see Goat Island. Though it was called Goat Island, there wasn’t a single goat to be found. However, they were truly astonished by how swift the current was in this area. Watching it was enough to make one’s head spin. Perhaps because the waters collided frantically against each other, a ghostly phosphorescence drifted across the surface, terrifying in its intensity. It suddenly grew cold. Mother was holding firmly onto me. No matter how reckless I was, there was no way I'd jump into such a place. I wouldn’t jump in, but to measure the water’s speed, I tossed in a handkerchief.

Just then, a Madam from somewhere came and began conversing with Mother. She too had come to see the sights. She was putting on grand airs. She held a lapdog. While thinking the dog’s chest strap matched Miss Yuriko’s ribbon in quality, Taro poked its eyes. “Aren’t you going to laugh?”

The lady turned around. Chin might sneeze, but I wasn't about to just laugh and take it.

“Young master, do you like Chins?” “Please hold her for a little while.” “My hands are tired.” Since the lady had Taro hold Chin, he immediately threw it into the water.

The lady began weeping like a madwoman. Saying she’d lost someone she’d treated like her own child, she now seemed ready to leap into the river after Chin. She was reckless.

Father held her back while Mother apologized until they finally placated her. She went home tear-streaked but must have worked herself into hysterics. The water truly raced at one ri per second. Thanks to that Chin dog, I made this discovery. Doesn’t Teacher say all science advances through sacrifice? We returned to the inn for lunch. Why would that inn serve such a fish? My near-death experience was entirely their fault. Father calling it a rare local specialty you can’t catch elsewhere made it worse. As I ate my rice, I resolved to go fishing.

After finishing the meal, Mother took a nap. Having been told to stay here making noise with books in the meantime, Taro obediently began reading. The sky was blue. The sun was shining brightly. Staying home was a waste. Since even when Taro read aloud Mother remained fast asleep, he decided it was finally safe. He climbed out through the window onto the corridor and leaped down from there to the outside. On the way, he bought fishing gear, then Taro stationed himself at a spot where the water was fairly calm and began fishing. He tried two or three spots, but because the current was swift, he couldn't catch anything. So Taro gradually worked his way upstream. As he was casting his line near the waterwheel, he noticed a small boat tied up by the bank. Since no one was watching, Taro tried to borrow this boat to reach the opposite shore.

As he rowed out a little，Taro lost his fishing rod. Before he could process this predicament，the current’s force was so strong that it wrested the oar from him. Simultaneously，the boat began rapidly drifting away. As it steadily accelerated and he recalled the Japanese Chin’s red ribbon from earlier，Taro had to confess—he burst out crying. This was no time for scientific experiments. And he thought that if he had stayed noisily flipping through books by Mother’s side instead，it would have been better，but it was already too late.

The small boat spun as it drifted. On the shore, a crowd of people shouted and made a commotion. But since Taro was in the middle of the rapids, no matter how much they wanted to help, there was nothing they could do. In the midst of this, his forehead began to ache, and he closed his eyes. He prayed they would save him because he would definitely listen to his parents from now on. And thinking he would soon reach the waterfall, he threw himself down in the boat and wept.

When a loud sound rang out and Taro’s body lurched forward, he had already resigned himself to death. But hearing voices calling from the shore, he raised his head to look. The boat had stopped. It lay wrecked upon the rocks.

“Hold on tight!” “Grab the rocks!”

The shore was packed with people. But there was nothing they could do. They just kept telling him to hold on tight, to hold on tight. The sun would soon set.

There was a story like this in the textbook studied at school. A baby slipped and fell into a river, carried away by the current. The mother ran along the bank like a madwoman, calling for help. Though many people were conducting a survey along the shore, they merely exclaimed things like “Oh no!” without a single soul attempting rescue. It wasn’t that they refused to go. They couldn’t go. Because that river had such fierce currents that unless one was prepared to abandon their life, diving in proved impossible. The baby was on the verge of being left to die before everyone’s eyes. Yet there appeared a young man who jumped in resolved to discard his life. He was a young surveyor. A task undertaken by one who throws away their life cannot fail. He splendidly rescued the baby. This young surveyor later became George Washington, President of the United States. As punishment for not jumping into the river, his fellow surveyors had likely become laborers or such by Washington’s presidency.

Those fellows who just made a racket on shore without jumping in back then deserved to become laborers. If they had been prepared to throw away their lives and swum out then, they would surely have become presidents. Regrettably, there wasn't a single person as steadfast as Washington.

At that moment, I was utterly miserable, no matter what.

Mother came into view. Father was also there. Mother was waving her handkerchief vigorously. Taro cried. "Mother, please forgive me! It's all my fault! Please forgive me!" Taro cried. He knew full well that crying wouldn’t save him now. I just wanted to be forgiven and die. Mother was still waving her handkerchief. Father disappeared from view.

“I’m coming to save you!” “Hold on tight!” “Just wait there!” Somehow they shot a kite string to the opposite bank. Then the people on the opposite bank hauled it in. They tied a thick rope to the kite string and hauled it again. Finally spanning from above Taro’s head to both banks, a single rope bridge was completed. “Stay still. I’ll be right there!” Taro was rescued effortlessly. The French acrobat crossed over the rope and hoisted Taro onto his back with a harness.

“Just relax and leave everything to me.” “Close your eyes and stay still.” he said. Taro had no idea what had happened until he reached the shore. He kept his eyes so firmly closed that he worried they might sink into their sockets. So when everyone cheered “Banzai, banzai!”, upon reflection now, he had already reached the shore.

It was an indescribable commotion. Taro clung to Mother’s hand and wailed. Father was overjoyed, taking the acrobat’s hand as though meeting a brother he had parted from twenty years prior. The spectators were marveling as though watching a play. Taro and the others first returned to the inn. Father gave the acrobat a 500-yen check. Then Mother and Father together admonished Taro in every way possible. I thought it was such an ungrateful way to treat someone—rescuing me from danger only to start scolding me that very evening. It’s not like I intended for things to turn out like that either. I only went out intending to catch some fish and make Father happy. Since the inn served that fish, Father praised it, and the person who left the boat there was at fault, I don’t feel anything about being scolded. The only thing I regretted was that I had unfortunately dropped my new knife.

The next day, Taro and the others left Niagara. Mother declared they would never come back to this place again. Taro and the others went around to their country relatives and spent the whole summer there. Various things happened in the meantime, but since I've run out of pages in my diary, I'll write about them once I get a new one.

Sister Utako was still pulling my ear. But since she'll soon marry a banker, I don't care. Oshima remained as careless as ever. Whenever they make mistakes, they always shift the blame to me. I couldn't care less about such things, but it looks like I'll be expelled from school before I even become a minister. This alone is what I can't stop worrying about.