who, like the dwarf maple tree in the flower pot, mature gnarled and
twisted. I have no objection to laugh myself with others over innocent
jokes. But how's this? Boys as they are, they showed a "poisonous
temper." Silently erasing off "tempura" from the board, I questioned
them if they thought such mischief interesting, that this was a cowardly
joke and if they knew the meaning of "cowardice." Some of them answered
that to get angry on being laughed at over one's own doing, was
cowardice. What made them so disgusting as this? I pitied myself for
coming from far off Tokyo to teach such a lot.

"Keep your mouth shut, and study hard," I snapped, and started the
class. In the next class again there was written: "When one eats tempura
noodles it makes him drawl nonsense." There seemed no end to it. I was
thoroughly aroused with anger, and declaring that I would not teach such
sassies, went home straight. The boys were glad of having an unexpected
holiday, so I heard. When things had come to this pass, the antique
curious seemed far more preferable to the school.

My return home and sleep over night greatly rounded off my rugged temper
over the tempura affair. I went to the school, and they were there also.
I could not tell what was what. The three days thereafter were pacific,
and on the night of the fourth day, I went to a suburb called Sumida and
ate "dango" (small balls made of glutinous rice, dressed with
sugar-paste). Sumida is a town where there are restaurants, hot-springs
bath houses and a park, and in addition, the "tenderloin." The dango
shop where I went was near the entrance to the tenderloin, and as the
dango served there was widely known for its nice taste, I dropped in on
my way back from my bath. As I did not meet any students this time, I
thought nobody knew of it, but when I entered the first hour class next
day, I found written on the black board; "Two dishes of dango--7 sen."