Chapter III: Part 3

Little did either of us dream how short the earthly joy was to be, or how soon the Heavenly reward was to begin. Very early the next morning she was up helping to get breakfast, and from her mother-in-law and a neighbour who came in I heard much that filled my heart with joy and pride. The mother said, “When I heard the girl my son was engaged to was a Christian and in school I was very angry and wanted to break off the engagement. I looked with great dread upon her coming to us; but I want to tell you, she is the best daughter-in-law in the place. In all these years we have not had a single quarrel and that cannot be said of any other family. My youngest children love her and mind her better than they do me. I thought she would want to read all the time and so had my son burn her books. I thought she would be above farm work, and all these years she has worked so hard and with never one word of complaint. One year we lost all our crops and in the winter had to send to the market town, six miles away, for the famine relief grain. She had to go early, walk there and back, and carry our portion. She did not have any warm clothes that winter, but she did not say anything.”

“Yes,” chimed in the neighbour, “I had to go too that winter, and your Wen Jung (Literary Glory) was so modest and ladylike, never pushing or crowding, that the official asked who she was and gave her more grain.” Again the mother-in-law said, “When I saw how she endured the hardships, always so strong and true, I knew it must be her religion, for I too have been a daughter-in-law. She is always kind to the old grandmother, who has a terrible temper. I have known Wen Jung to stay up all night to make her a pair of shoes. Yes, my daughter-in-law is the only one of the family who has not felt her stick or been reviled by her. When I saw how her God helped her I just wanted to know Him. Now for months Wen Jung has had evening prayers and has taught me to pray.”

It was so delightful to sit there and hear all these sweet things of one of our schoolgirls. It was a joy to see her pride in her poor home where everything was very clean and neat, and as she moved about getting breakfast I thanked God for this “new woman” in China. With what loving care she waited on us. How she did want to show her love; later on, when the neighbouring women came in for a little service she came and sat with her arms about me. I said to the women, “She is our girl student and we love her.” “Yes,” said some one, “she is always talking about her foreign friends. For years we have wanted to see you. You may be proud of her, she is the best daughter-in-law in the place.” About noon I left, promising to visit her on my return from the place I was going to visit and hold a station class.

Alas! the death of a member of our station called me to Peking by the shortest road, and the next month the Boxer storm burst upon us. After the fury was spent and we could get news of those distant from us, we found that nine of the ten who belonged to us in that place had been cut down. The Boxers came at sunrise one beautiful morning in June and the mother-in-law was killed at once in her own room. “Literary Glory” ran out of the house and out into a field, but was overtaken and most brutally hacked to pieces. Her husband was taken to a temple, tried, and beheaded. Brave, true-hearted, humble “Literary Glory.” If ever any one heard the “well done” she did. She gained two souls for the Master she loved and left a name that will be fragrant for long years in that village. Faithful in the small things, she filled the cup to overflowing by giving her life. What is her “new name” up there, think you? Is it “Heavenly Glory”? My young readers who have given your money for Bridgman School and helped to educate this dear girl, does the result of your investment satisfy you? Can you not say with her, “My reward has come to me, God has been very good to me”?

“We take with solemn thankfulness
Our burden up, nor ask it less;
And count it joy that even we
May suffer, serve or wait for thee.
Thy will be done.”

HOW THE DOG AND CAT CAME TO BE ENEMIES

Of the thousand and one stories the old women of China love to tell their children and grandchildren, none is so great a favourite as the one, “How the dog and cat came to be enemies for all time.” The little black eyes grow bright as diamonds as they listen, and no bedtime story of Mother Goose of Western lands is more treasured. Let me tell you the story, and as you listen possibly you can see the dear little children of the great flowery kingdom, many of them looking like little flowers gathered about some old grandma who loves and pets them as do the grandmas of all lands.

In the long, long ago there lived in the country a poor widow who had only one son; but he was very kind and good to her, working early and late to support her. She was his one thought, but with all his efforts it was but a poor living that he could give her, and it was a great sorrow to him. One day the gods said, “Such a son must be helped;” so after talking the matter over, one of them, dressed as a temple priest, went to their gate and knocked. The widow came and opened the gate, but seeing the guest, she said, “Too bad, too bad. I am so poor I cannot give you any help to-day.” To this the priest replied, “I have not come to get your help but to help you.” When the woman heard this, she said, “I never heard of such a thing.” The priest said, “It is a fact, and I now give you this gold ornament. When you wish to cook a meal you put this in the kettle, put on the cover, light your fire, and then repeat to the kettle several times what you want to eat. When the water boils the food is ready; take off the cover and eat, and you and your son be happy.” With his joyful but incredible news he was gone. The old lady looked at the gold ornament in her hand, thought of what had been said to her, and wondered if she was asleep and it was all a dream. To make sure, she said, “I will try this charm and see if it will work or if the priest has lied to me; I want some meat dumplings for supper.” She put on her kettle, lighted her fire, and then repeated over and over again till the water boiled, “I want dumplings, meat dumplings. Come, dumplings, come.” When the water boiled she took off the cover, and behold the kettle was full of the most delicious-looking dumplings. “Ah,” she said, “what good fortune is mine, what good fortune is mine!” Never had she tasted such food in all her poor life. After eating all she could, she fed the cat and dog, and they, too, were wild with delight. How their sides filled out, and they jumped upon her to express their thanks. “Now,” said she, “I will get my son a good supper,” and again she repeated the process. When he came home looking so tired, she said, “I have a good supper for you to-night, my son; all you want and more.” “A good supper,” thought he; “how can that be, since all we ever have is millet and cornmeal?” But to his mother he said, “Nothing you make is bad; it all tastes good.” When she took the cover off and told him to look, he could hardly believe his eyes. He had seen such food but never tasted it. The mother said, “Son, eat, and I will tell you all about our good luck.” When she had concluded her story she showed him the golden ornament. “It is from the gods, my mother, and they have taken pity on you. I am indeed a happy son.”

After this, day by day, the mother and son and the household cat and dog had plenty to eat and all was happiness in the little family.

One day some relatives came to call, and the old lady urged them to stay and eat with them. They refused at first, as they thought they could not provide anything worth eating, but finally, at the old lady’s most earnest request, they consented. Such a feast of good things as she prepared for them; how surprised they were! They exclaimed again and again at the delicate flavour of everything, and the quick time in which she had prepared them. At last one of them asked how she could afford to provide such expensive food, and the old lady in pride of heart brought forth her treasure and told her secret to the guests. They were filled with envy, and later on, one day when the old lady was away from home, one of them went into her room and stole the precious charm. Only the dog was in the room, and though he saw, he did not know how great the loss was. When the mistress came home and went to get her son’s supper, she discovered her loss. She was filled with great sorrow and distress. When her son returned she told him, and together they looked everywhere. The old lady wept most bitterly and refused to be comforted. The cat and dog came and begged for their supper, but she paid no attention to them. After that they had to eat millet and cornmeal again, and hard indeed it was, as they had become used to good food. The cat and dog grew thin and refused the poor food. Finally the dog concluded that the reason was because the bright, pretty ornament their mistress always put in the kettle was no longer used and must be lost, and that was why the mistress cried so much. Then he remembered the neighbour who came and went into the closet, and came out after a while with the treasure in his hand, and how he saw him put it in his pocket. The dog then called the cat and told her all, but said, “Alas! I am but a dog. I cannot get it, but you can, for you are able to get on the roofs of houses and crawl in windows, and you must get it.” When the cat heard where it was, she said, “But the river, how can I get across the river?” to which he replied, “I can swim, and when you come to the bank you get on my back and I will take you across.” So together they went. When they reached the river the cat jumped on the dog’s back and he took her over safely. Then he said, “I will wait here for you while you go to the house for our mistress’ treasure.”

Over the roofs and along fences the cat went till she came to the right house; then she found a window open, and walking in she curled down in a warm place to take note of what was going on and to make her plans. After a time she spied a rathole, and going over to it she waited patiently till a big mouse came out; then she sprang upon it and held it fast. How the poor thing plead for its life! The cat said, “Mouse, I will save your life if you will do me a favour.” The mouse promised gladly, and the cat told of the lost treasure and that it was in the house. The mouse said, “I know about that; every day the family eat good food; let me go and I will get it for you.” “No,” said the cat, “I cannot let you go, for you would not come back. I will hold you closely, but you call your companions and tell them where it is, and when they bring it I will let you go.” Then the mouse called out and all the mice came running, and when told what to do, away they went in search of the gold ornament. After a time they came back with it and the poor mouse was allowed to go, while the cat made her way back to the riverside with the ornament in her mouth.

She found the dog waiting for her, and when he saw the treasure in her mouth he barked and jumped for joy. Before she got on his back he said to her, “We are both very hungry; now, if in going over the river you see a fish or anything good to eat, don’t try to get it, for if you do you will drop the treasure.” This he repeated once and again and they started for the other side. Just before reaching the other side a fish jumped up in the cat’s face, and before she thought, she made a grab for it and so lost the ornament in the river. How the dog did scold and howl then; he was so hungry, and such visions of a good supper had filled his eyes all the way over. The cat was so sorry, and promised she would think of a way to get it if only he would not bark so loudly. Looking around she saw a big frog who looked very friendly, and to her she told all her troubles and said, “I know you like to do good deeds of mercy, so please help me.” The frog agreed and jumped into the river, and after a little returned with the lost charm. Then after thanking the frog, the cat and dog started home; so happy were they they could not get over the ground fast enough. The cat mewed at the door, and when the old lady opened it and saw her with the lost treasure, she caught her up, made a big fuss over her, took her in the house, and shut the door, thus leaving the dog out in the court; as she did not know how much he had helped the cat, she did not pay any attention to him.

Soon a big supper was ready, and once again the mother and son were happy. This time in their gratitude they fed the cat first, all she could eat, but forgot the dog, so absorbed were they in their own supper and in planning a good, safe hiding-place for the most precious charm. After a little the cat went out into the yard, and seeing the poor, hungry dog, she told him with great pride of all the good things she had had to eat, and the nice things the family had promised her. “There is nothing left for you,” said the cat, “and if you are hungry you had better fly around and find a bone.” When the dog heard this he sprang upon her and bit her so she died immediately. Then he went and told all the dogs about it. When they heard the story they were most indignant at such ingratitude, and then and there took a solemn vow of eternal enmity to the cats for all time to come. Thus they have kept their vow, and to this day in all lands the dog is the enemy of the cat.

A DAUGHTER OF THE PRESENT

In Manchuria, not far from Mukden, lived a well-to-do farmer by the name of Lee. For some years the country had been much troubled by mounted banditti who terrorized the people, stealing from them right and left.

Mr. Lee called his neighbours together and after talking over the existing conditions, they bound themselves together to act as watchmen and resist the thieves even to the death.

Mr. Lee then went to the neighbouring villages and helped them to form little companies of volunteers for the same purpose. This, in time, reached the ears of the robbers, and they laid their plans accordingly.

One night in the midst of the autumn harvest, while the farmers were celebrating with wine and music the “harvest festival,” the bandits came upon the village. Mr. Lee called his followers together and a great fight took place in the moonlight. At last the robbers set fire to several houses in the village, and after stealing all they could carry away with them, departed.

Every one was left weeping—grain and clothing gone, and some with their homes in ashes. Every one was so busy with his own losses that it was daylight before it was known that Mr. Lee was missing. After much searching in the fields and at the near villages, they decided that he must have been taken captive and carried to the robbers’ stronghold in the mountains.

Now, Mr. Lee had a little daughter, thirteen years old, called “Jade.” She was devoted to her father, and his constant companion. When, as the day wore on, he did not return she refused to be comforted. She pleaded with her mother and brothers to go with her to the neighbours and get them to form a rescue party, but the neighbours were so full of their own losses and fearful of another visit from the robbers that they refused. They said, “If we go, we shall certainly be captured, and either killed or held for a big ransom.”

Little Jade and her family knew it would do no good to appeal to the magistrate, as such raids were frequent, and nothing was done to prevent or punish; and all the family but the little daughter made up their minds that nothing could be done, and they must await whatever the gods had in store for them.

“Not so,” thought little Jade; “I will either save my father or die with him.” Without saying anything to the other members of the family she learned from questioning the villagers the location of the “Tigers’ Nest,” as the fastness of the thieves was called. She then started off alone and after miles of weary walking she reached the place at nightfall. She made direct for the cave and prostrating herself before the entrance she began to weep and wail for her father. The robbers came and looked fiercely at her. How she pleaded with those hard-hearted men! They offered her food and money to go away; but she only pleaded the harder. They then became angry and tried to drive her away. For two days and nights she knelt in front of the cave; she would neither eat nor sleep. Many of the robbers were fathers and their hearts grew tender toward the little maid as hour after hour her wail fell upon their ears, and they saw her little face swollen and drawn with long weeping and fasting.

At last the robber captain could endure it no longer, and after one final effort to drive her away, he commanded that Mr. Lee be set free, and that he and his little daughter be escorted beyond the hill region by the robber band. At the close of the fourth day they arrived at their home, where there was great rejoicing and much praise for brave little Jade.

When Jade was seventeen the young man she was engaged to marry died and she took the vow of “widowhood,” and also that she would help support the aged father and mother of her betrothed. Although she had never seen any of the family this was considered very meritorious in Jade, and she was held up as a model girl to all others in the region.

She took in sewing and embroidery and the money she thus earned was sent to the old people. She is at present living near Mukden, and it is rumoured that she is to be one of the teachers in a girls’ school to be opened in that city.

T’ANG SUNG’S JOURNEY TO GET THE BUDDHIST CLASSICS

In the year 629 A.D., a very devout monk, T’ang Sung, hoping to achieve merit by which he might avoid death and that he might become one of the Eternal Holy Ones, accepted the proposal of his Emperor that he should go to the west in search of the famous Buddhist Classics.

Alone he set out on his journey to the Yellow River where the caravans to India were wont to form. On his way he met a wonderful monkey. The monkey asked the priest where he was going, and on being told, decided that he would go along with the good priest! “But what can you do? Why should you go?” asked the monk.

The monkey replied, “I am a famous jumper. With one jump I can touch the heavens; I can walk on water and on the air; I can change myself into seventy-two different shapes.” After some more conversation the monk consented to the company of the monkey, and giving him the name Sun Hou, he fastened a string to his neck and started on his way. The monkey was very changeful in his disposition and the monk had a hard time making him mind. After going a few miles he met a holy man who said, “If he does not mind you I will tell you something to say to him which will make his head ache, and he will go quietly with you.” Going along a few more miles they met a pig, and on hearing from the monkey where they were going, said he also would go and help find the books.

“What can you do to help?” asked T’ang Sung.

“I can catch thieves and have power to do many strange things,” was the reply; “and the only trouble with me is that I walk slowly.” The monk considered the question, and as he did not like to be unkind to a pig said he could go. Afterward on the road they met a very stupid simple priest, and he plead so hard to be allowed to join the party that the monk also consented; thus the four travelled slowly along until they met a white horse. He asked the errand of the strange company, and after hearing the story, said he also would go and T’ang Sung might ride him. The foolish priest carried the baggage, the pig carried the gun, and the monkey was sent on ahead to make all the arrangements.

On the road to India they had to pass seventy-two caves, where demons lived, who were ever on the watch for travellers.

One day they travelled till night; all day they had been without food, and as darkness came on and no village was in sight the monkey said, “I will jump and see where a village is.” He gave a great jump and saw they were not far from a village; he heard a great noise which frightened him; he gave another jump and saw the village was on the bank of a great river eight hundred yards wide. The monkey returned and got his companions and led them to the home of the rich man of the village.

He struck the bell the priest carried, and the servants, on opening the gate and seeing the queer procession, were very much frightened. Sun Hou said, “Don’t be afraid. We are from the Emperor, and going to India to get the sacred books of the great Buddha. We want something to eat and a place to sleep, as we are very weary.”

The owner of the place replied, “I am able to give what you ask, but not to-night as I am in great trouble.”

“What is it? Perhaps I can help you,” said the monkey.

Then said the rich man, “For long years a terrible demon has lived in the river and every year we have to prepare a young boy and a young girl as an offering for him or he will destroy the village by causing the river to overflow. To-night is the yearly sacrifice and it falls on me. I am a large householder, but I have only one little boy and one little girl, and my heart is breaking with my grief, but I must give them up to save the lives of the many in the village.” Sun Hou said, after a moment’s thought, “Don’t be anxious. I have a plan. Get us something to eat.”

After eating, Sun Hou commanded that the children should be brought into the room. After looking at them Sun Hou said to the pig, “You impersonate the girl and I will the boy;” the pig shook himself three times, and the father said, “Well done.” Soon after the procession, which had been forming in the village, came for them, with drums beating and banners flying. They carried the supposed children to the temple on the river bank. Cooked chicken was placed on the table, the incense lighted, then all went out and the door was locked.

Then when all was quiet Sun Hou said to the pig, “You take one side and I will the other and don’t be afraid.” About midnight there was the sound of a great wind, and then Sun Hou said, “Be careful, the demon, Yao Ching, is coming.” Immediately the door opened and a great fishlike being came into the temple. They heard him say, “In the past I have taken the boy first, but to-night I shall eat the girl first.” With that he seized the girl, who immediately struck him, and then, with the help of the boy, fought a terrible battle and injured him so that he fled, leaving two great fins on the floor.

The river-demon sought out the king of the demons and told him the story. He said, “You call up a great cold wind, bring snow and ice and freeze over the river, then when they get half-way over the river, you call your friends to help you and put your strength together and cause the ice to give way and precipitate them all into the river.”

The demon was pleased with the plan and in three days the ice was so thick that farmers could cross in their carts. All this time the four strange companions were living in great comfort with the rich man of the house, who gave them many rich presents and much food. On the fourth day they started on, and when they got to the middle of the river the ice broke and all went into the water except the monkey, who gave a great jump and landed on the top of a high mountain. The others were taken captive, and put in a deep cave by the river-demon to wait until they had caught Sun Hou, when all should be eaten together. Day after day, Sun Hou went down on the river bank and reviled them. Many were the fierce battles they fought but neither could get the victory. At last one day Sun Hou took a mighty jump and arrived at the home of the Goddess of Mercy, who was in her palace in the Southern Sea.

“Ah!” said she; “I knew you were coming. I have waited for you.” She was making a fish-basket of bamboo. When she heard his troubles she said, “Wait. I am making this great fish-basket to catch him in. He used to live in my sea, and is my special food fish, but he rebelled and ran away and for many years has lived in the great river. You go back and call him and fight again, and I will come and get him in my basket.” In the terrible battle which followed the Goddess of Mercy let from Heaven a basket and took him in and up to Heaven.

Then Sun Hou called some of the Heavenly Soldiers to his aid, and they went with him and found his companions in a cave, but alas! the men could not swim. While Sun Hou was pondering, a big turtle came along and said, “I knock my head to you. You are my preserver. Many years ago this cave was mine, but the river-demons took it, and now, to show my thanks, if you will all get on my back I will carry you over the river.” This they did, and on the way the turtle said, “You are going to India to find out how one can live forever? Will you ask the merciful Buddha what my after-life is to be like?” Sun Hou promised, and as they would need help in crossing on their return he was to look out for them.

As they travelled on they came to the country of Pú Táo. The king asked them where they were going and also demanded a proof of their Imperial mission. Now, this king had three famous ministers called Fox, Deer, and Sheep. They said these persons must first prove their strength before they could go on their way. To the question as to whether their contest was to be of military skill or a contest of mind, the monkey chose the latter. A platform thirty feet high was built. Then Minister Fox said to T’ang Sung, “We two will go up there and see which can sit without moving an eyelash for the longest time; the one who moves first is to be killed.” While thus sitting the sheep changed himself into a worm and crawled up on the bald head of the priest, and bit his head in many places. T’ang Sung was most uncomfortable and his face showed it.

Now, Sun Hou saw the look and so changed himself into a bird, flew up over the monk, and seeing the worm, flew down and in picking it up saw that it was the “Minister Sheep,” to whom he said, “If this is the trick I will show you what I can do,” and changed himself into a centipede, and crawled upon Minister Fox. He entered his nose, got into his ear, and up into his head, and so distracted did the minister become that he could not endure the pain, and threw himself from the platform and thus died. When the “Minister Deer” saw the calamity he said, “Our great elder brother is dead, I will see what I can do,” so he said, “Let us see who can cut his head off, throw it away, get it again and grow it on.” Sun Hou said, “That is good. It is not the monk’s turn; this is my turn.”

Minister Deer asked, “Who will try first, you or I?”

Sun Hou replied, “I can cut my head off and grow it on again ten times.” The Deer replied, “I can only once.” So Sun Hou said, “I will try first,” and immediately cut off his head, upon which Minister Deer said, “I can only cut mine off once and I won’t do it now.”

“If you don’t, we will fight,” said Sun Hou.

Thus driven, he cut his head off, and the monkey, changing to a dog, ran away with it and was gone two hours,—so long that the man died also.

Then said Minister Sheep, “You must conquer me or I shall kill you.”

“Well,” said Sun Hou, “what shall we do? You decide.”

“Well,” said the Sheep, “we will build a fire, put on a big kettle of oil, and when it boils we will take turns in getting in and staying two hours. The one who can do it will be the victor.”

So all was ready and Sun Hou got in; before getting in he repeated a charm to the dragon, who came and changed him into a nail and kept the oil in the bottom of the kettle cold while it boiled on top. After two hours Minister Sheep said, “He is dead,” and getting a skimmer he felt around and brought out a nail, which changed to a man, saying, “Ah, I was asleep; having such a good rest. Now it is your turn and I shall not sleep any more.” Thus the Minister Sheep was obliged to get in. Then Sun Hou called the king and said to him, “Look at your great ministers; how can you expect the country to grow and improve when your three greatest ministers are such demons? See what frauds they are, and how they impose on you and the people.”

To this the king replied, “I see you are great men and wonderful. You cannot go yet; it is a famine year and you must call down rain for us.”

Sun Hou said, “I will go to Heaven and plead with the great Lord of the Heaven (Yü Wang).”

With a jump he was in Heaven; to his petition the great God said, “There is no rain for Thibet for three years.” After much pleading from Sun Hou the God replied, “I will give you two inches only.”

When the king heard this he said, “That is not enough, I must have more. If you can get two inches you can get more, and then I will let you go.” So Sun Hou said, “I will get you two feet.”

“That is too much,” replied the king, “but a little more than we need is no great matter, only get it.” When Sun Hou told the great God of Rain, he said, “I will not let them say how much I am to give, I will give enough.”

When Sun Hou took this message to the king he thanked them and let them go on their way, promising to entertain them on their return.

They went on their journey; the monk, T’ang Sung, riding the white horse, the priest praying and reading. At night they came to the foot of a high mountain where there was a temple where lived a demon. This temple was called the “Temple of Thunder.” Sun Hou told the priest he did not think the temple was safe, but the priest said it must be because it was a temple, and he was sure they would find rest and food. When they saw the name of the temple they knocked their heads and went slowly forward until they saw what seemed a great image of Buddha. When Sun Hou came close to it he said, “That is not the Buddha,” and refused to knock his head. Just then a voice said, “Why do you not knock your head?” to which Sun Hou replied, “I do not think you look like Buddha.” Immediately they heard a bell strike and something was let down from above and enveloped them in darkness. Sun Hou felt of it; it was hard like copper. They walked all around it but could not get out. They exerted all their combined strength but could not remove the darkness. Then Sun Hou repeated his wonderful charm and twenty-eight soldiers from the great lord of the Heaven suddenly came in the shape of a great cow. Sun Hou called to him to make a hole with his horn; this he did, but when he pulled out his horn the hole closed up; again he did it, and Sun Hou changed into a mustard seed and was pulled out by the cow. Then he let the soldiers out of the iron cow—and the great demon got a great string and bound them and put them in a cave. Sun Hou gradually grew smaller and his rope loosened and he escaped; with one jump he reached Heaven and brought down many soldiers from the great God. When the great demon saw them he said, “I am not afraid of you, even if you are from Heaven. I will yet eat you.”

Among the Heavenly Soldiers was one very great one, and he wore a wheel of iron on one foot and a wheel of wind on the other; on his wrist was a beautiful bracelet and he wore a Heavenly chain. A terrible battle was fought in the air between the soldiers of the demons and the Heavenly band. The great demon threw up his charmed lasso and brought down the bracelet, and again, and brought down the chain. Then Sun Hou saw him lasso all the Heavenly Soldiers, and just as the string was to envelope him he gave a jump and turned a somersault—and landed on top of a mountain. There he gave himself up to despair in a cave. Along came a man who asked why he was crying and he said, “I promised to take a monk to India and to protect him. He and his companions are bound and in a cave. I got twenty-eight servants from the great God, they are also bound; and now all the Heavenly Soldiers have been defeated and are bound.”

“You are too impatient,” replied the man. “Do you not remember that a great iron beam can be rubbed to a fine needle if you but take time? You go to the demons who live in these caves in the mountains, and find out what kind of a demon this is.”

Sun Hou went to them all and at last found one who said he knew the demon of the Thunder temple. He had one time been his servant but had stolen his treasure and run away. “You can only take him by craft and I will help you. He is most fond of melons, and we will plant some melons and test him. I will be the gardener and you go and call him out.”

Then Sun Hou went out and reviled the demon and he came out in great anger; Sun Hou changed into a fine melon and the demon, seeing him, ate him. Sun Hou said, “Now I will tear your heart out of you.” In his great distress the demon pleaded so hard that Sun Hou came out by the demon’s ear and together they fought all over the melon patch in the moonlight. After the battle, worn and weary, Sun Hou liberated the soldiers and his companions, and then looking about him saw there was no mountain, no temple, but a fine restful road with eating-houses and rest-houses on the way.

“Ah, monk,” said he, “so it ever is with earth’s power and glory. It is all vanity—vanity—empty—empty.”

In restful travel they reached their journey’s end and found the book. On their return journey they had many adventures, but they had all grown wiser and learned much. When they reached the bank of the river the turtle was there waiting to carry them across. They got on his back and when half-way over he asked if they had found the “Book” and seen the “great Buddha.” “Yes,” they said. Then the turtle asked them if they had remembered his request, and when they said they had forgotten it, the turtle was so angry he dropped down from under them and left them in the water. They had a terrible time getting to the other side, and as the book was paper all they could rescue of it were the words, “Ah-me t’on Fo,” and this they told the Emperor was all there was to the Classic.

A STORY OF OLD CHINA

In the reign of Chia Ching, Emperor of China from 1522 to 1537 A.D., there lived in Peking a powerful official by the name of Tu (“Du”). Unknown to him he had a great enemy whose daughter was one of the wives of the Emperor and who was himself the teacher of the Emperor. This man, Yen Sung, was the most powerful man in the Empire at that time, and also one of the most unscrupulous. He made and unmade officials and no appointment could be secured except through his influence. He was very rich, and lived in one of the largest and finest palaces. His entertainments were second only to the Emperor’s.

Mr. Tu was appointed to superintend the distribution of famine relief in the province of Shan Tung. The silver was inclosed in logs, and loaded on long carts. The caravan had just reached the city gate when they were met by Yen Sung and his riders, just returning from a feast. He inquired of Mr. Tu when he was going, and on learning that the relief caravan was just starting, he said:

“It is too late for you to go to-night; come to my palace, all of you, carts and all, and spend the night. We will have a big feast, and you can get an early start in the morning.”

There seemed no harm in this, and as no one liked to refuse Yen Sung anything, they decided to accept his invitation.

That night after the great feast was over and, much under the influence of wine, all were sleeping, Yen Sung, with his steward and henchmen, removed the relief money from the logs, placed broken bricks in the holes, and closed the logs as they were before.

Early in the morning the caravan started, and when but a short distance from the city they were overtaken by Yen Sung and his servants, who inquired how much silver was being taken, also made the demand to see it. Mr. Tu said that he had in his charge forty thousand pieces of silver; and caused the logs to be opened as proof, only to find to his dismay the silver gone and brick in its place. Yen Sung immediately seized him, took him before the Emperor, accused him of using the funds, and punishment by death was pronounced. A few days later he was secretly beheaded and his body was placed in a temple near one of the city gates.

Mr. Tu had a son, who was married to the daughter of a well-known official who, on the murder of the father-in-law of his daughter, came forward and saved the family from the murderous hands of Yen Sung. The Emperor punished the family by changing their name to Kao and this son was called Kao Ching Chi. He was a student by nature, and on the death of his father and the confiscation of his property, spent all of his time at the “Hall of Classics,” studying for promotion.

His young wife, Yü Yüch Ying, was very beautiful, according to tradition in song and story one of the most beautiful in all the Empire; not only noted for her beauty of face and form, but even more beautiful character. (The story of her life, set in song and always sung in tears, praises her in words seldom given to any woman.)

One day after the death of her father-in-law she took a serving-woman with her, and went in her chair to weep at his grave, and burn incense for his departed spirit. On the road her chair passed Nien Chi, the wicked steward of Yen Sung, who was out with some of his companions for a ride. He caught a glimpse of the beautiful woman inside, and said to his companions:

“Come on; we will follow her and see who she is and where she is going.”

When they reached the temple he saw her at the altar, prostrating herself and worshipping; kneeling beside her he said:

“I too have come for worship.”

Yü Yüch Ying immediately rose and went to the grave of her father-in-law, followed by the servant. Together they wept and knocked their heads, but only to be joined almost at once by Nien Chi. They moved to the other side of the grave, and again he followed, upon which she said to her woman:

“This man means to annoy us; he is an evil man.”

The serving-woman turned on him and said:

“You are annoying my lady, you certainly lack all marks of the superior man,” and with that she threw a handful of incense ashes in his eyes, and taking her lady by the hand, they ran to the chair and told the chairmen to go home at once as fast as possible.

Nien Chi was very angry, his eyes pained him furiously, and as soon as he could open them with any comfort he called to his friend:

“Mount at once and give chase.”

Some of his companions did not want to, but he insisted and, owing to this delay and the ashes in his eyes, they did not overtake the chair till just as it entered the gate of the ladies’ home.

The gatekeeper closed the gate and did not notice the horsemen just entering their street. Nien Chi inquired of a “street keeper” who lived in the place, and great was his delight when he heard that it was the family hated by his master. He sought the latter on returning home, told of his morning’s experience, of the beauty of the lady, and his desire to secure her if possible.

Yen Sung was greatly pleased, and soon a way was opened to degrade the official who had saved his enemy’s family. He said to his steward, “This is well; you shall have her for wife, and I will help you and thus reward your many efforts in my behalf.” Together these two black-hearted men plotted against the life and happiness of the one little woman, who did not tell her student-husband of the experiences of the day, as she did not like to trouble him when his heart was so sad.

A few days later a servant of Nien Chi’s came with a letter and some very beautiful presents. The servant said “his master had heard much of the wisdom of young Mr. Kao; he was most desirous of calling on him, making his acquaintance, and would he please accept the small, insignificant gifts as an expression of friendship.” Mr. Kao inquired who his master was, and when he learned it was the steward of the great Yen Sung, who was almost as powerful as the Emperor, and at whose word a man was made an official or deposed, he was greatly troubled, but he did not dare refuse. A day was set when Nien Chi was to call, and he came in great pomp and glory, and was invited to the guest house, where Mr. Kao received him.

Together they talked on the surface of many questions, Nien Chi, in a most subtle manner, praising the wisdom and great insight of his host. Much wine was consumed, especially by Mr. Kao.

The latter part of the call Nien Chi said, “Shall we not seal our friendship by the rite of blood brother? You are older than I, so according to our custom it would be proper for you to introduce me to your wife, my sister, if indeed you will stoop to accept so stupid a man as a brother.”

To this Mr. Kao replied, “The lady, your sister, is in the inner court with her women, another day you may meet her.”

Nien Chi urged Mr. Kao to introduce him that day, but the latter changed the subject of conversation, and then Nien Chi proposed that they should see who could take the most wine.

Alas! Mr. Kao did not dream of his plan, and very soon was fast asleep; seeing this, Nien Chi went to the family court in the rear and seeing her with her women, he said:

“Most beautiful of great sisters, I salute you.”

Yü Yüch Ying immediately arose, and seeing the man who had troubled her so, there in her own court, she said:

“Who are you, and how do you dare to come into this inner court?” and then turning to a servant, she said, “Call your master.”

Nien Chi smiled and said, “Don’t be anxious, lady, your husband is my good brother by rite of blood. We have drank the wine and made the compact and that, you know, as he is older than I, gives me a right to meet you and call you ‘sister.’ My great brother is now asleep. He is a poor, stupid man who cannot let wine alone. Now, most beautiful and virtuous of all women, leave him to his books and marry me. You shall have, by promise of my master, the great Yen Sung, the finest of the land, in robes of silk and satin, servants by tens, jewels fit for an empress, and a most royal home.”

In great fear and rage the lady spurned him, and called to her women to bring her husband, asleep or awake.

The loud voices had awakened him, and when the women met him, telling of the fright of their lady, he picked up a stick and, entering the court, demanded how he had dared enter there.

Yü Yüch Ying said to him, “How did you dare enter friendship’s bonds with such as he? Take him from my court and presence at once. He is more hateful to me than a serpent.”

Nien Chi saw his plan had failed and, with rage and vowing vengeance, he took his departure and once again sought his master.

That night a slave in the home was bound and killed and taken in the early morning and placed against the gate of Mr. Kao’s house. Mr. Kao always went early to the “Hall of the Classics,” and that morning when he opened the gate the dead body fell into Kao’s court; Nien Chi and soldiers were waiting just around the corner for this moment, and immediately, before Mr. Kao had taken in the situation, they had seized him and thrown him into prison, on charge of killing one of the great Sung’s servants. He was tried and condemned to death.

The beautiful Yü Yüch Ying saw through the plan and disposed of the place at once for a small sum of money and, taking one loyal, good serving-woman, she sought her father.

Everything was done that could be done to save her husband; her father had lost much of his property and standing, and could help but little.

It seemed as though nothing could be done to save him when, at the last moment, a “great day of forgiveness” was announced on the birth of an heir to the throne. This did not mean freedom, but instead of death came banishment for life to some other and distant province.

The news was made known to the wife by a Mr. Wang, an old-time friend of the family, and he arranged with her a plan by which she might have a parting visit with her husband; this was to be in a cemetery just out of Peking and off a little from the great road over which his cart was to go. She had not been allowed to see him in prison, though she had used every means possible.

When the day set to take him away came, she went with her woman to the place arranged, and then waited, with sad and heavy heart, for the cart which was to bring her husband for a short talk and then take him away from her forever. When Mr. Wang told Mr. Kao of the plan, he said, “She won’t come; a woman is like a garment that one can take off at pleasure and it is all the same to them.”

Little he knew the true-hearted woman, or how she would prove her fidelity, that would hand her name down to all coming wives as the pattern of all that is most truly virtuous.

When the cart reached the place, by the use of a little money Mr. Wang arranged with the carter and escort soldiers to allow Mr. Kao to get out of the cart and have this quiet last talk with his wife.

Much to his surprise, Mr. Kao found his wife waiting for him. She came forward and, kneeling before him, she said, “We are about to separate, possibly forever; what commands have you for me? I will follow them to the letter.”

“I have no commands,” replied her husband. “Our affairs have reached this state: we can do nothing and be nothing to each other. I am banished for life; you cannot go with me, and I cannot help you. There is no use in our talking. You will forget me. Our fate is unlucky, the gods and man are against us.”