a man he should talk like one. Is he not a college graduate? I can talk
man-like enough, and am a graduate from a school of physics at that. It
is a shame for a B.A. to have such a squeak.

I answered with the smallest enthusiasm, whereupon he further asked me
an impolite question if I ever did fishing. I told him not much, that I
once caught three gibels when I was a boy, at a fishing game pond at
Koume, and that I also caught a carp about eight inches long, at a
similar game at the festival of Bishamon at Kagurazaka;--the carp, just
as I was coaxing it out of the water, splashed back into it, and when I
think of the incident I feel mortified at the loss even now. Red Shirt
stuck out his chin and laughed "ho, ho." Why could he not laugh just
like an ordinary person? "Then you are not well acquainted with the
spirit of the game," he cried. "I'll show you if you like." He seemed
highly elated.

Not for me! I take it this way that generally those who are fond of
fishing or shooting have cruel hearts. Otherwise, there is no reason why
they could derive pleasure in murdering innocent creatures. Surely, fish
and birds would prefer living to getting killed. Except those who make
fishing or shooting their calling, it is nonsense for those who are well
off to say that they cannot sleep well unless they seek the lives of
fish or birds. This was the way I looked at the question, but as he was
a B. A. and would have a better command of language when it came to
talking, I kept mum, knowing he would beat me in argument. Red Shirt
mistook my silence for my surrender, and began to induce me to join him
right away, saying he would show me some fish and I should come with him
if I was not busy, because he and Mr. Yoshikawa were lonesome when
alone. Mr. Yoshikawa is the teacher of drawing whom I had nicknamed
Clown. I don't know what's in the mind of this Clown, but he was a