[Illustration: A source of great delight.]

"Is there too great a burden on the shoulders of the Chinese Christians? Surely not. A little girl once was carrying a little boy on her back. Some one said, 'I see you have a big burden, haven't you?' 'No,' replied the little girl, 'that is not a burden; that is my brother.'"—Rev. Cheng Ching Yi, Edinburgh Missionary Conference.]

Her ready wit often helped to keep herself and others in good temper.

Not only was she full of life and humour, she was also kind and generous, and had sympathy with those who suffered. When, for instance, a poor, blind beggar came to her home, chanting his doleful refrain:

Oh, friends who can see, in heaven you dwell;
To have sightless eyes is like living in hell,

her heart would be touched, and she would beg and obtain permission from her mother to give him some rice.

Mrs. Tu was a home-loving and industrious woman, who did not often leave her home, or allow her children to run wild. Once a year, however, there was a big dramatic performance at Kucheng, and then Everlasting Pearl, dressed in her best, was taken to the theatre. These were red-letter days in her life. Chinese plays are mostly very stupid. Often immoral, and almost invariably connected with idolatry, they are a snare to some of the people when they want to break with everything idolatrous. But to the little country girl the theatre was all that could be desired, and gave her much pleasure. She understood little of what she saw and heard there, but was carried away with the excitement and noise.

Another great occasion was that on which the famous god from Tanyoh passed through Kucheng. This deity was supposed to have his abode in Tanyoh, and called it his paternal home; but his maternal home was in Hongtsun, a few miles off, and to that village he paid yearly visits. He was carried with great pomp through Kucheng, and as he passed along all the people came to their doors to bow to him, and implore his blessing and protection. For the little girl this yearly visit of the idol was a very solemn occasion, as she was a firm believer in his power. As yet she had not heard of any greater power; she had never heard of the true and living God. The ugly idol she saw carried through the streets of Kucheng embodied the highest object for her worship, and to him she gave unreserved reverence.

Surely the messengers of Christ had been a long time in reaching Kucheng,—yet it was situated on one of the main roads in China. They had indeed been slow in obeying their Lord's command, "Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature."

CHAPTER IV

ENGAGEMENT

Everlasting Pearl was now thirteen years old, and by many relatives and friends her parents were urged to make arrangements for her future. "You can keep her a few years before you marry her, but she certainly ought to be engaged," was the advice given generally.

A middleman, therefore, had to be found. There are always numerous applicants for that office, as not only is a good fee usually given, but it is considered an honour to be entrusted with the future arrangements for a young couple. On such occasions a great many untruths are often told, which are only discovered after the marriage, when it is too late to mend matters. In Everlasting Pearl's case, the middleman was a relative, one of those who had been urging a speedy engagement.

He took the girl's Pah tsï,[1] and went with these to a family of the name of Hsü, who lived in a village four miles distant. The Cyclical Characters were closely examined, and put in front of the ancestral tablet, incense being lighted before them morning and evening. There they remained for a month, and as nothing happened to disturb the peace of the family during the interval—no child was hurt, no pig died, no rice basin was broken—they were thought to augur only good luck, and to promise well for the alliance of the two families. So Mr. Hsü made out the "Cyclical Characters" of one of his sons, a young man twenty-five years old. He then called in an astrologer, and asked him to compare the two papers and give his verdict as to the advisability of the two young people being joined in marriage. With an important air, this gentleman examined the two papers put before him, and announced that everything was in favour of such an alliance. Several of their characters were alike, the two young people were both born under the "Tiger," and other things agreed as well. Whereupon the two families expressed their satisfaction, and declared themselves ready to arrange for an engagement.

But now the middleman had a busy time of it, for there were many things to settle before the engagement could take place. First of all, he went to Mr. and Mrs. Tu, and asked how much money they would want for their daughter. "As she is our only daughter, we want her to have a good outfit," replied the parents, "so Mr. Hsü must give at least $40 and some good clothes." The list was then made out—$40, ten articles of clothing, a ring, two bracelets, a pair of earrings, and three silver hair ornaments. The indefatigable middleman took the list to the Hsü family, who looked at it critically. After some time of haggling over the different articles, they finally agreed to furnish all, and preparations were begun in full earnest.

The day appointed for the engagement arrived, and there was great excitement in the two homes which were filled with visitors and well-wishers. The feast on both sides had to be provided by the young man's family. About dinner-time, on the day appointed, a party, headed by the middleman, was seen advancing toward Kucheng, carrying a sort of wooden box or basket, with several trays, one piled on top of the other. One tray carried all sorts of sweetmeats and the half of the money, twenty dollars, wrapped in red paper. Another tray was filled with pork and fish; again, another with different kinds of expensive vegetables. Another carrier brought the engagement cake, and five articles of clothing, and all the silver ornaments. Everywhere, scattered among all the things, were cypress leaves, a symbol of longevity and good luck.

On reaching the Tu home, the men with their precious burdens were received with fire-crackers, and eagerly all the things were examined, some of them meeting with approval, others with disapproval. After dinner the party started off again for the Hsü home, taking the return presents. These consisted of the following articles—a hat, a pair of shoes and stockings, a sash, a number of embroidered purses, with a few dollars in them, also some vegetable seeds, peanuts, sunflower seeds, etc. Most of these things were graciously received by the young man and his family, and the parents on both sides were satisfied.

The Engagement Agreement, as binding as a marriage certificate, had been signed by the two families, and Everlasting Pearl's parents had returned it to Mr. and Mrs. Hsü. The girl of thirteen had her future settled for her before she had any idea of what such a future might mean. Her little girl-friends teased her, but there was an added respect in their treatment of her. She dimly realised that somehow she had risen in their estimation and that of others. The change was rather a pleasant one, the new clothes were a welcome addition to her scanty wardrobe, and she was too young to worry about the future.

[Illustration: Writing the engagement document.
As binding as a marriage certificate.]

[1] The Eight Cyclical Characters appertaining to the hour of a person's birth.

CHAPTER V

MARRIAGE—PART I

Again we pass over a few years. Everlasting Pearl had now reached the age of seventeen, and her future husband was twenty-nine years old; therefore the day of the wedding was drawing near. The intervening years between engagement and marriage had been busy ones. Little by little the trousseau had been prepared, and was all ready. A lucky day, the third of the eleventh moon, had been chosen for the approaching wedding; and already, a few days before that date, some of the guests began to arrive, each one bringing a present of some garment, or hair flowers, shoes, etc. for the bride. A present of 120 lbs. of pork, 60 lbs. of fish, 12 chickens, and a good supply of expensive vegetables had been sent by the young man, and the guests, with many of whom luxuries were rare, set themselves to enjoy the good things.

The evening before the wedding the middleman arrived with the bridal chair, which was covered all around with red cloth, and embroidered in gay colours. Now the feasting began in real earnest. The pipers struck up their usual melody, and with each hour the excitement grew.

The following morning the trousseau had to be packed, but the bride had nothing to do with it. She did not rise from her bed at all. Her breakfast was brought to her by one of her relatives, and she was exhorted to eat heartily, as that would be her last meal till the following morning. Towards dinner-time she was coaxed to get up, but she persistently refused to do so, and began bemoaning her fate, in having to leave her parents and her own home to go to strangers. Every now and again the mother joined in the wailing, and the relatives stood round them crying, trying in vain to comfort them. After dinner the bride was again urged to get up, but maidenly modesty and her dutifulness to her parents still forbade her to obey. No one should have any reason to say that she was anxious to go. She wanted to show how loath she was to leave her parents, and every one was praising her, and saying that such a dutiful daughter would make a filial daughter-in-law.

But even the most ardent filial piety could not put off the hour of separation much longer. At last she was dragged from her bed by the women who had to prepare her for her journey, and she reluctantly submitted to the preparation. Her hair was shaved all around the edges, the hair in front, which used to make the fringe for the forehead, was pulled out. Then her hair was combed straight back to show that she was now to enter the ranks of the married women. Then she was powdered and painted, and dressed in her bridal attire, which consisted of a red skirt, and red cloak, beautifully embroidered in bright colours, but rather the worse for wear, as it had accompanied the bridal chair on many another journey. The box with the mitre was brought forth and the crown was placed on her head, already too richly adorned with artificial flowers. And now the wailing broke forth beyond all bounds, the young bride and her mother vying with each other in making the greatest possible noise; at times beating their heads against the wall, the bed, or the table in their self-imposed manifestations of sorrow.

Outside, the trousseau was being sent off, as it had to reach the bride's future home before she entered the same. Two men carried a cupboard between them. Others followed with some chairs, and a table covered with candlesticks and all kinds of utensils. A pair of the bride's shoes might also be found, placed within those of the bridegroom's, for, as every one remarked, "The two must now walk together till old age." Others carried a couple of red wooden boxes filled with the clothes and personal belongings of the bride, also a wadded bed-quilt, a bed-curtain, and two embroidered pillows, etc. The whole procession made an imposing show, and the relatives of Everlasting Pearl looked after it with pride. The girl had been well provided for, and could lift up her head without shame before her husband's people.

The bride herself was at that time kneeling in her bedroom on a large sieve (a token that all evil influences are "sifted out" and all good luck and riches "sifted in"), bidding farewell to all her relatives. One by one they were led to her, beginning with her parents and brothers, and ending with the distant relatives, neighbours, and guests. To each one she clung in despair, clutching their feet, and vowing she could not leave them; and she did not let go her hold until a coin, wrapped in red paper, was dropped into the sieve; then, with a few words of comfort, the giver would move away to make room for another, and all the time the red paper parcels increased in number.

When the farewells had nearly come to an end, the middleman urged a speedy departure, and at last, when she still delayed, he entered the room, lifted the weeping girl into his arms, and carried her out into the guest-hall. Standing on the table before the ancestral tablet, she worshipped her dead ancestors for the last time, for from henceforth they were nothing to her, as she would bear another's name. This performance over, the middleman again lifted her up like a child, and placed her in the chair. The little bride was then locked in, the key to the chair resting in the pocket of her guide. Fire-crackers were let off, the pipers piped, and the bride, loudly wailing, was on her way to her future home.

Her brothers followed her for a short distance. After having escorted her for about a mile, they handed her the keys of her boxes and cupboard, bade her a last farewell, and returned home, leaving the middleman and his assistant to escort her all the way. Some ragged little boys were carrying the large lanterns, on which was inscribed her husband's name, in front of her chair; others carried red banners; again, others were beating gongs. One carried the big red umbrella, which only a bride or a Mandarin is allowed to have carried in front of the chair.

It was a proud day in the young girl's life. Everywhere the people crowded round to get a peep at her through the glass windows of her sedan chair. And she, sitting motionless and with bent head all the way, was conscious of the deference paid to her. All the people turned respectfully aside for the procession to pass, and even if a Mandarin had happened to meet her on the way he would have had to turn aside. For once in a lifetime the simple country girl was to be honoured by him, to whom all others had to bow, for, as he would have said, "Who knows if the bride of to-day may not bear a son, who shall far exceed me in position and power?"

CHAPTER VI.

MARRIAGE—PART II

Meanwhile the bridegroom's family had not been idle. They had prepared and decorated their house; had put up new red scrolls, and draped the guest-hall and the outside door with red cloth. Large red candles, painted with gold, were burning on a sort of mantelpiece at the top of the room, and new lanterns were adorning the hall.

The bedroom for the bride had also been prepared. A man who had been prosperous in his life and home decided where the bed was to be placed; and a woman equally prosperous in her home made the bed, and took good care that no ill-luck should come near the dwelling of the young couple.

When about a mile's distance from her future husband's home, Everlasting Pearl suddenly ceased her wailing, for it now behoved her to show the right submission. The old life lay behind her; she had mourned for it, but must now prepare for the new life ahead.

She was met by messengers from the Hsü family. The chair was put down and some superstitious rites were performed to drive away the evil influences which she might have encountered by the way. And then, as it was getting dark, the lanterns were lighted for the last stage of the journey, and soon she was carried into her new home. She entered it to the sound of fire-crackers, music, beating of gongs, and the shouts of all the people who had gathered in great numbers, each one present trying to catch the first glimpse of the bride.

The bridal chair was put down in the guest-hall, and there it remained. After what seemed an exceptionally long waiting time, the door was unlocked, but still the bride could not move. At last, a woman, the proud mother of several sons, came forward and helped her out of the chair. Two little girls, richly adorned with flowers, were waiting, one on either side of the chair, to offer her some tea. After that she was led into the room prepared for her. Her own furniture had already been placed in the room, and the bridegroom, clad in official robes, was standing near the bed, waiting for her. Then they both sat down, a table was placed before them with two basins of rice, some eggs, vermicelli, and a chicken leg for each. Not much of it was eaten, however; the little bride, still veiled, could touch nothing, but the guests, who had crowded into the room to stare at her, helped themselves freely to the rice.

After a short time the bridegroom left the room, and a little later the bride was led out to the public guest-hall, supported by two women. The young man was waiting for her. They took their stand in front of the ancestral tablet side by side, and now the real wedding ceremony began.

A wadded quilt, covered with red, was spread on a mat on the floor, the bride and bridegroom knelt down on it, and three times worshipped their ancestors, their heads touching the ground each time. Then they turned round and worshipped "Heaven and earth" in the same way. Afterwards two cups of wine were brought from the table. The man who was supporting the bridegroom offered the latter one of the cups, and the second one was held to the lips of the bride by the women in charge of her. Then the wine from the two cups was mixed, and each one took a sip from the same cup, indicating that from now on they were united, and must share life together, whilst some of the bystanders laughingly chanted:

Together they walk, each other aid,
The knot is tied, the covenant made.

The first ceremony had come to an end. Bride and bridegroom bowed to each other, and then the latter lifted the veil, and beheld for the first time the face of the girl who had been given him to wife! The crowd was getting excited, and from all sides the shout arose:

Oh, with what joy the hour we hail,
When time has come to lift the veil.

The poor little bride was getting weary, and her bridesmaid led her back to the bedroom, closely followed by the bridegroom. For a few moments they took their stand together in front of the bed, but soon the young man went out of the room, threw off his wedding garments, and began to help in looking after the guests. Soon all of them were feasting around a number of square tables, the bridegroom being one of the busiest in ministering to them.

But the bride had not got over her ordeal. The whole evening she was made a gazing-stock to all. Any one might go in to stare at her, and acquaintances of the bridegroom and even strangers who crowded into the room were allowed to make any remarks they liked. The children were dancing around her singing:

Little bride, little bride!
You climbed the wall from the other side!

Every now and again this refrain was started, and sometimes a more mischievous boy or girl would take it up, adding another line:

Little bride, little bride!
You climbed the wall from the other side!
And to steal our potatoes moreover tried!

Later on, a table was spread in front of the bride, and a few intimate friends and relatives had their supper with her, but she herself could touch nothing. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to keep calm and composed; no smile lit up her face, no word was uttered, and it was very seldom that a sentence was addressed to her.

In the middle of the many courses, her mitre was placed on her head again, and she was led out to the guest-hall. With a wine cup in her hand, she went from table to table, and bowed low to her husband's friends. Their cups were filled afresh, and each one took a drink in honour of the bride, while the band played vigorously. After she had finished her round, she went back to her bedroom till the feasting was over.