Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 177, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 July 1915 — THE KOSON MIRROR [ARTICLE]

THE KOSON MIRROR

Its Charm Brought Happiness to Lovers Who Had Parted. By THOMAB G. WILKES. (Copyright, 1915, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) Ruth Chishelm snuggled down in the depths of her most comfortable armchair and looked long at the photographs held in either hand. One pictured Arthur Merwin’s intellectual face, fair and light-eyed, with a heavy sweep of pale hair brushed back from his high forehead. The other showed Lynn Frary’s blunter features —dark, good looking, with keen brown eyes and heavy black brows. Arthur’s chin lost its strength by the merest fraction, Lynn’s was square and determined. The former had money and social position; the other was the American agent for a firm in Japan. Beyond his salary Lynn had few expectations. Lynn was thousands of miles away in Tokyp. Arthur was firmly established in his father’s business in New York. The night before Arthur had proposed to Ruth, and that very morning she had received Lynn’s letter declaring his love and asking for her answer. "Which?” she asked herself. Her heart answered, “Lynn.” Ambition suggested Arthur’s name. Ambition won. So a letter wended its way over land and sea to reach Lynn Frary in a fairylike bungalow in the suburbs of Tokyo. He was sitting on the veranda when Ruth’s letter was handed to him and he held it unopened in his hand for a long time, his dark eyes bent musingly on the ground. It was a thin letter —but why prolong the agony of suspense? He tore open the envelope and read the few lines of regret. “Engaged to Arthur Merwin!” Then the cryptomerias at the end of the garden became a dark blur before his eyes. He muttered at his own weakness and, cramming the letter into his pocket, called his ricksha boy and went down to the dull round of daily duties. * * '* * * * * Months passed and Lynn heard no further news of Ruth Chishelm until one day he received a bundle of New York newspapers and read that she was soon to be married to Arthur Merwin. He must pick out a wedding present for her —for the girl he loved whQ was going to be another man’s bride. Lynn drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Well, other men had been through the same bitter experience; he was game too. His quest led him to the shop of a Japanese friend, Sen Aru. Amid a chaos of ivories, bronzes, bits of cloisonne, and fine porcelains, Lynn was bewildered. “A wedding gift for a friend?” repeated Sen Aru, a noble-looking old man. Lynn winced. “Something very nice, Sen Am,” he said. “The very nicest thing you have in the shop.” The Japanese looked keenly at bis friend. “The very nicest thing I have in the shop would be this Koson mirror.” He brought forth from a sandalwood box a round hand mirror of highly polished steel set in a frame of carved ivory. Lynn uttered a gasp of admiration. “That’s quite the finest thing I've seen,” he muttered. “I must have it.” Sen Am nodded shrewdly. “Some time, if you will honor my humble shop and drink tea with me, I will tell you the history of that mirror.” “Thank you, I will. Now, if you will pack it carefully I'll get it down to Yokohama. A steamer sails tomorrow for San Francisco —it should reach New York by the 15th." “And the wedding day is?” questioned Sen Am. “March 25, I believe. Here, please put my card in with it. Here is the address to which it is to be sent.” “I will send it with immediate dispatch,” promised Sen Am. He watched Lynn leave the shop and he shook his head sadly. “Such a splendid young man —and grown so thin and worn with unhappiness. It must be this woman who has hurt his heart. Perhaps the mirror of Koson will cure the hurt, who knows? Only the gods can tell.” Several weeks later Lynn dropped into Sen Ara’s shop for the promised cup of tea and the story of the Koson mirror. Sen Am’s onyx eyes became points of glittering light as he poured the tea and served little rice cakes to his friend. The story of the Koson mirror was a short one. “Koson was a young man, a son of the Samurai; of noble birth, but quite poor in this world’s goods. He loved the daughter of a prince and, although there was no parental opposition to their marriage, the girl was ambitious and favored a man of great wealth; so, in spite of her love for the poor youth, she went about her preparations for her marriage to tbe ri<*h man. 'Koson wished to send her a wedding gift and, possessing this ancient mirror, he set about cleaning It to make it fit to ofTer to the bride. The mirror was dull and unpolished, and there were spots of rust upon iL But Koson worked night and day upon the mirror, rubbing and polishing it with the greatest labor and nicety,

all the while his heart wrung with anguish for his lost love. “So long did he labor over tbe mirror that it seemed he had Imparted some of bis own personality to tbe inanimate thing of steel and ivory. So often was his sad face bent over the mirror that it verily reflected his features. All this he did not know. “A few days before the wedding he sent his servant with the Koson mirror. The next day it was rumored that tbe bride refused to leave the mirror; she sat before it hour after hour, weeping and embracing it and bewailing her unhappy fate in marrying the rich lover. “Koson was skeptical, but his heart beat light for the girl he loved, and two days before the wedding she came to him weeping, and so they were married. It is said that the mirror of Koson still holds its charm to reconcile estranged lovers." Sen Aru smiled mystically. . Lynn looked sharply at the Japanese. “Is that why you recommended the mirror to me?” he asked quietly. “It makes a t.andsome wedding present,” reminded Sen Aru. “I hope you are pleased with it.” “It is very beautiful, but it would be awkward if it worked any magic in this case," laughed Lynn uncomfortably. “You see, the lady in the case loves her husband to be.” “Only the gods understand,” returned Sen Aru gravely. Lynn’s wedding gift reached Ruth Chishelm ten days before the date set for the wedding. She opened the soft wrappings of red tissue paper, her fingers trembling, for she knew that Lynn had sent her something from the Orient. At last she reached the inner box of fragrant sandalwood and the mirror of Koson lay before her in all ita beauty. She uttered a cry of delight and picked it up, gazing long at her reflection. Then, as if, indeed, tbe mirror were fulfilling the old tradition, Lynn Frary’s face seemed to blot out her own features. “What is the matter with me?" she cried sharply apd dropped it quickly. She picked up a strip of red paper covered with stiff handwriting. With slowly whitening cheeks she read Sen Aru’s polite letter, telling her the tradition of the Koson mirror, and regretting that his much-honored friend, Lynn Frary, appeared sick and ailing. And with many phrases and many subtle hints as to the ill health of his American friend, Sen Aru closed his cheering epistle to the bride. Ruth Chishelm, most unhappy of brides, dropped her bright head down on the mirror and sobbed. - ' 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 Lynn Frary, recovering from a real illness, sat in the veranda of bis bungalow and enjoyed the delicate scent of cherry blossoms from tbe lane beside the house. It was April and the air was soft and balmy. He was thinking of Arthur Merwin and his bride. Probably they were spending a honeymoon in Europe. He wondered if Ruth was happy. Merwin was Pta bad chap and he had heaps of money, and that seemed to count more than anything else nowar days. So absorbed was he in his bitter thoughts that he did not hear the patter of ricksha runners, and only the sound of Sen Aru’s wooden clogs aroused him. Lynn greeted his visitor cordially, but Sen Aru waved aside an invitar tion to enter. “You would remember the legend of Koson?” he asked politely. Lynn nodded impatiently. Sen Aru waved his hand toward the path. "It is true that legends repeat themselves. Behold, my friend.” He vanished down the side path, but Lynn didn’t notice his departure. He saw only Ruth Chishelm coming up the path toward him, with eager, outstretched hands. In the rear, talking in her voluble way with Lynn’s house servant, was Mrs. Chishelm. “Lynn,” cried Ruth, putting her hands in his, “I’ve found out my mistake in time. Is it too late for you to love me now?” “It would never be too late for that, sweetheart,” be said taking her into his arms. Sen Aru smiled at Lynn across the counter of his shop. “I wish to send a wedding gift to your bride, my friend,” he said, "but not a mirror—you need nothing to work magic now.” “You have given us the best gift in the world, Sen Aru,” declared Lynn. "You gave us to each other."