CONTENTS
[[13]]
HOW THE MOON BECAME BEAUTIFUL
月何以美
The Moon is very beautiful with his round, bright face which shines with soft and gentle light on all the world of man. But once there was a time when he was not so beautiful as he is now. Six thousand years ago the face of the Moon became changed in a single [[14]]night. Before that time his face had been so dark and gloomy that no one liked to look at him, and for this reason he was always very sad.
One day he complained to the flowers and to the stars—for they were the only things that would ever look in his face.
He said, “I do not like to be the Moon. I wish I were a star or a flower. If I were a star, even the smallest one, some great general would care for me; but alas! I am only the Moon and no one likes me. If I could only be a flower and grow in a garden where the beautiful earth women come, they would place me in their hair and praise my fragrance and beauty. Or, if I could even grow in the wilderness where no one could see, the birds would surely come and sing sweet songs for me. But I am only the Moon and no one honors me.”
The stars answered and said, “We can not help you. We were born here and we can not leave our places. We never had any one to help us. We do our duty, we work all the day and twinkle in the dark night to make the skies more beautiful.—But that is all we can do,” they added, as they smiled coldly at the sorrowful Moon.
Then the flowers smiled sweetly and said, “We do not know how we can help you. We live always in [[15]]one place—in a garden near the most beautiful maiden in all the world. As she is kind to every one in trouble we will tell her about you. We love her very much and she loves us. Her name is Tseh-N’io.”
Still the Moon was sad. So one evening he went to see the beautiful maiden Tseh-N’io. And when he saw her he loved her at once. He said, “Your face is very beautiful. I wish that you would come to me, and that my face would be as your face. Your motions are gentle and full of grace. Come with me and we will be as one—and perfect. I know that even the worst people in all the world would have only to look at you and they would love you. Tell me, how did you come to be so beautiful?”
“I have always lived with those who were gentle and happy, and I believe that is the cause of beauty and goodness,” answered Tseh-N’io.
And so the Moon went every night to see the maiden. He knocked on her window, and she came. And when he saw how gentle and beautiful she was, his love grew stronger, and he wished more and more to be with her always.
One day Tseh-N’io said to her mother, “I should like to go to the Moon and live always with him. Will you allow me to go?”
Her mother thought so little of the question that [[16]]she made no reply, and Tseh-N’io told her friends that she was going to be the Moon’s bride.
In a few days she was gone. Her mother searched everywhere but could not find her. And one of Tseh-N’io’s friends said,—“She has gone with the Moon, for he asked her many times.”
A year and a year passed by and Tseh-N’io, the gentle and beautiful earth maiden, did not return. Then the people said, “She has gone forever. She is with the Moon.”
The face of the Moon is very beautiful now. It is happy and bright and gives a soft, gentle light to all the world. And there are those who say that the Moon is now like Tseh-N’io, who was once the most beautiful of all earth maidens. [[17]]
THE ANIMALS’ PEACE PARTY
羣獸議和
The ancient books say that the pig is a very unclean animal and of no great use to the world or man, and one of them contains this story:
Once upon a time the horses and cattle gave a party. Although the pigs were very greedy, the horses said, [[18]]“Let us invite them, and it may be we can settle our quarrels in this way and become better friends. We will call this a Peace Party.
“Generations and generations of pigs have broken through our fence, taken our food, drunk our water, and rooted up our clean green grass; but it is also true that the cattle children have hurt many young pigs.
“All this trouble and fighting is not right, and we know the Master wishes we should live at peace with one another. Do you not think it a good plan to give a Peace Party and settle this trouble?”
The cattle said, “Who will be the leader of our party and do the inviting? We should have a leader, both gentle and kind, to go to the pigs’ home and invite them.”
The next day a small and very gentle cow was sent to invite the pigs. As she went across to the pigs’ yard, all the young ones jumped up and grunted, “What are you coming here for? Do you want to fight?”
“No, I do not want to fight,” said the cow. “I was sent here to invite you to our party. I should like to know if you will come, so that I may tell our leader.”
The young pigs and the old ones talked together and the old ones said, “The New Year feast will soon be here. Maybe they will have some good things for us to eat at the party. I think we should go.” [[19]]
Then the old pigs found the best talker in all the family, and sent word by him that they would attend the party.
The day came, and the pigs all went to the party. There were about three hundred all together.
When they arrived they saw that the leader of the cows was the most beautiful of all the herd and very kind and gentle to her guests.
After a while the leader spoke to them in a gentle voice and said to the oldest pig, “We think it would be a good and pleasant thing if there were no more quarrels in this pasture.
“Will you tell your people not to break down the fences and spoil the place and eat our food? We will then agree that the oxen and horses shall not hurt your children and all the old troubles shall be forgotten from this day.”
Then one young pig stood up to talk. “All this big pasture belongs to the Master, and not to you,” he said. “We can not go to other places for food.
“The Master sends a servant to feed us, and sometimes he sends us to your yard to eat the corn and potatoes.
“The servants clean our pen every day. When summer comes, they fill the ponds with fresh water for us to bathe in. [[20]]
“Now, friends, can you not see that this place and this food all belongs to the Master? We eat the food and go wherever we like. We take your food only after you have finished. It would spoil on the ground if we did not do this.
“Answer this question—Do our people ever hurt your people? No; even though every year some of our children are killed by bad oxen and cows.
“What is your food? It is nothing; but our lives are worth much to us.
“Our Master never sends our people to work as he does the horses and oxen. He sends us food and allows us to play a year and a year the same, because he likes us best.
“You see the horses and oxen are always at work. Some pull wagons, others plow land for rice; and they must work—sick or well.
“Our people never work. Every day at happy time we play; and do you see how fat we are?
“You never see our bones. Look at the old horses and the old oxen. Twenty years’ work and no rest!
“I tell you the Master does not honor the horses and oxen as he does the pigs.
“Friends, that is all I have to say. Have you any questions to ask? Is what I have said not the truth?” [[21]]
The old cow said, “Moo, Moo,” and shook her head sadly. The tired old horses groaned, “Huh, Huh,” and never spoke a word.
The leader said, “My friends, it is best not to worry about things we can not know. We do not seem to understand our Master.
“It will soon be time for the New Year feast day; so, good night. And may the pig people live in the world as long and happily as the horses and the oxen, although our Peace Party did not succeed.”
On their way home the little pigs made a big noise, and every one said, “We, we! We win, we win!”
Then the old horses and oxen talked among themselves. “We are stronger, wiser, and more useful than the pigs,” they said. “Why does the Master treat us so?”
Ee-Sze (Meaning): Why have some more power than others? Only one knows. Why have some longer life than others? Only one knows. Why do some try and not succeed; while others do not try and yet they do succeed? Only one knows. [[22]]
THE WIDOW AND HER SON[1]
A STORY OF THE FAMINE IN SHANG-TONG PROVINCE
能孝能弟
A widow had two sons, Yao-Pao, a lad yet in school, and Yao-Moi who tilled the soil.
Yao-Moi, the elder, was a good man; he had worked [[23]]hard for thirty years, but he had not gained riches. He sent Yao-Pao to school and served his mother well.
One year there were great rains. The grain all died in the ground and the people of that country had nothing to eat. Yao-Moi had debts which he could not pay, and when his harvest failed he became poorer than ever before.
Then there came a great famine and twenty thousand people died in that land. Yao-Moi killed his oxen to keep his mother and brother from starving. Last of all he killed the horses and mules, for it was yet six months before the time of harvest. Each time when he would kill for meat, the neighbors would come and beg food, and because he was sorry for them, he could not refuse.
One widow came many times until she was ashamed to beg longer from the little that he had. Finally she brought a girl child to him and said, “We are again starving. I will give you this girl for some meat. She is strong and can serve your mother,” But Yao-Moi said, “No, I will give you the meat. I can not take your girl from you.”
So he gave her meat once more, and she took the meat home to her son. But when it was gone and they were weak and fierce again with the death hunger, the widow said, “We shall all die, unless one dies to save the others. My son can not longer walk. I will [[24]]kill the girl child and save his life. He can then eat.” Her son said, “No, do not kill the girl, trade her to Yao-Moi for meat.” And the mother said, “Yao-Moi will soon starve, too, and then he will kill her. It is better that I do it;” and she took the big sharp knife to make it sharper.
She laid the girl child down on a bench and prepared to kill; but Yao-Moi passed by the house just then, and hearing the moans and screams he stopped to ask the reason. And the widow said, “We are starving. We will have a funeral to-day. We will now kill and eat each other that the last one may live until the time of the harvest.” But Yao-Moi said, “Oh, no, do not kill the girl, I will take her home with me, and you can have meat in exchange for her;” and he took her to his home and gave the widow many pounds of meat for herself and her dying son.
Four months passed by. Yao-Moi had nothing in his own house to eat, and they were all starving—Yao-Moi, his mother, his little brother, and the girl.
When the death hunger came, and the mother saw that her sons must die, she said, “I will kill the girl.” But Yao-Moi said, “No, I think we shall not die. Let us sleep to-night and see. I think something surely will come. Better kill me than the girl child.”
So they went to bed that night. It was winter and [[25]]the house was cold and dark. There was no wood, no light, no food; and they were starving.
Now, as the house grew more cold and dark, there came to them the quiet of a great despair and they all slept.
And Yao-Moi had a dream, and he saw an old man in flowing white garments, with a belt of gold around his waist. His hair was long and white, and his face was gentle and kind. And he called, “Yao-Moi! Yao-Moi! Yao-Moi! Hearken unto my words. Do you know how many people are dead in this land?”
Yao-Moi answered, “No, but I do know they are many, for only three among a hundred of all that were are now left.”
And the old man said, “In every house but yours some have died, but those of your household are all alive: you have also saved the girl child. I know you are a good man. You have plowed the soil for thirty years, and have never complained about the heaven or the earth. The thunder and waters come, the winds blow and the earth quakes, and still you are patient and kind. You are good to your mother. You support your brother, send him to school, and are as a father to him. You have a kind heart for your neighbors’ troubles. You live a good life and, because of this, you shall not starve. To-morrow morning you must [[26]]arise early and go to the East Mountain by the wilderness. There you will find many meats and nuts and seeds. Bring them home to your family. I am a spirit sent from the Greatest One to earth.”
After saying these things the man went out and Yao-Moi arose with great joy and told his family. Then he went to the East Mountain by the wilderness, where he found corn and peanuts and the meat of two hundred foxes already prepared to eat.
And he was very glad, and brought home much food and saved many lives.
Ee-Sze (Meaning): If people do good they will have reward. [[27]]
[1] This is a folk story of nineteen hundred years ago. [↑]
THE EVERGREEN TREE AND THE WILDERNESS MARIGOLD
金盞花不如永緣樹
When the springtime comes in China, the marigold (long-life flower) grows everywhere—on the mountains, in the fields, and by the river side.
The marigold is very proud of its great family which [[28]]is so numerous that the earth seems hardly large enough for it.
Once there was a marigold family that lived beneath an evergreen tree. They grew together all summer long, side by side, arms interwoven with arms, and leaves mingling with leaves.
Every year the tree grew larger, until at last no more sunshine or rain could come through its thick leaves and branches.
One day the marigold said to the evergreen tree, “Whom does this mountain belong to? You are only one, while our family grow in thousands everywhere. We have beautiful flowers from the summer time until the autumn comes. These flowers bear seeds that live through the winter, and in the spring another generation appears. In the summer time people come many miles to this mountain to see us.
“These people take our flowers home. Some of us they put in baskets and call basket flowers. Some they put in the maidens’ hair and they call us maiden flowers. School boys like us on their tables and the pupils say we are their flowers. Old people gather us for their birthdays and we are called long-life flowers, and when maidens are married, our flowers are placed in a dish and they worship the Flower God, and call us the pure flower. [[29]]
“So you see how pretty the names are that have been given us and how many people need us for their happiness.
“We must bring more and more flowers into the world, for there are not enough even yet.
“But we that live under your shade are not happy. You take away the sun so that he never shines on us, and when the rain comes, not a drop can reach our throats. The breeze comes, but never into our house—no fresh air, no sunshine, no rain, until we fear that we shall die.
“For eighty years our family has lived here. Our children sometimes say, ‘We hope that next year we may have sunshine,’ or ‘We hope that we may soon have rain to drink.’ Still no sunshine and no rain can reach us.
“You have destroyed many of our people. When will you allow us to have sun, rain, and air? Do you not know that you are killing us?”
Then the evergreen tree said, “My dear friend, I can not prevent this. Your people are more easily moved than I am. We are three brothers who have lived here hundreds of years and we are here forever. If our great bodies were moved we should die. It is you who should go away from here. Your seeds are light and it would be easy for them to go. [[30]]
“When summer comes the children need us here. When the sun is hot the boys and girls sit under our shade, and even though we may kill some of your family, yet must we serve mankind. Do you not know that the children hang swings, and that women hang their babies’ beds in our arms? The children also play ride-the-horse, and climb up in our arms, and have many games in our shade.
“Although we serve them and make them happy, yet they are not always kind to us, for sometimes they cut our bark. Students write words in my body with a sharp knife, but I can not prevent it. I have cried many years about this one thing and I would like to go away from here—but how can I move?
“I do not wish to hurt you, dear friend, any more than I wish to be hurt by others; but I am a mountain evergreen and must stand here forever. I hope you will be able to go, for we do not want to quarrel.”
The marigold bowed her head and made no reply. And a deep silence came over the evergreen tree as he grew and grew, a year and a hundred years, and many, many more.
Ee-Sze (Meaning): The weak can not live with the strong. The poor can not stay with the rich. Only equals are happy together. [[31]]
THE SNAIL AND THE BEES
THE MOD[1] AND THE FON
蜂蝸之爭
One day the king of the bees with his followers passed by the snail’s door with a great noise. The [[32]]mother snail said, “I have sixteen babies asleep on a leaf, and they must sleep fifteen days before they can walk. You will surely wake them. You are the noisiest creatures that pass my door. How can my children sleep? Yesterday your family and a crowd of your silly followers were here and made a great noise, and now to-day you come again. If I lose one baby because of all this, I will go to your house and destroy it. Then you will have no place to live. Do you know that this tree belongs to me? My master planted it twenty years ago, that I and my children might feed on its fruit. Every year your people come here when my tree has flowers upon it and take the honey away from them; and you not only rob me, but while you are doing it, you make loud and foolish noises. If you do not go away, I will call my master and my people.”
The king bee answered, “You have no master in the world. You came from the dirt. Your ancestors all died in the wilderness and nobody even cared, because you are of no use to the world. Our name is Fon (Bee). People like us and they grow fat from our honey, which is better than medicine. My people [[33]]live in all parts of the world. All mankind likes us and feeds us flowers. Do you think you are better than man?
“One day a bad boy tried to spoil our house, but his mother said, ‘You spoil many things, but you shall not trouble the bees. They work hard every day and make honey for us. If you kill one bee-mother, her children will all leave us and in winter we shall have no honey for our bread.’ And the boy obeyed. He might catch birds and goldfish, destroy flowers, do anything he wished, but he could not trouble us, because we are so useful. But you, slow creeper, are not good for anything.”
Then the snail was angry and went to her house and said to her family, “The bees are our enemies. In fifteen days, five of you must go to their house and destroy it.”
So they went. But when they reached the bee’s house, they found no one there; and they said, “We are glad, for we can eat their honey.” And they ate honey until sunset. Then the bee king and all his people in great numbers came with joyous singing, drumming, and dancing to their home.
When the bee king saw the five snails in his house he said, “Friends, this is not your home nor your food. Why do you come here and eat all our honey? But [[34]]it is late, and you are welcome to stay overnight with us, if you do not hurt our children.”
The big snail only laughed and answered, “This is very good honey. I have moved my family here. We will stay not only one night or two nights, but forever, and we will eat your honey for our food as long as it lasts.”
The bee king said, “I will allow you to stay only one night here. You can not live in my house. You do no good thing to help. I am afraid even to let you stay one night. My honey may be all taken and the babies killed while we sleep to-night.”
And he said to the wise old bees, “Do not sleep. We can not trust them.”
The next morning the wise bees came and told the king, “Thirty-five babies died last night. The snails crept all about our house and poisoned them. And they left much mouth-dirt in the honey so that we fear it will kill even man to eat it. We must drive them away, O king.”
“One day more and if they do not go, we will do some other thing,” said the bee king.
Then he went to talk to the snails again and said, “Friends, you are looking fat; I know you are satisfied here and like my honey, but why do you kill my people and why do you spoil our honey? I think I [[35]]know why. I believe you are an enemy, for I remember now that I met a snail mother some time ago, who scolded me and my people. I believe you are her children.
“Be that as it may, I now tell you that if you snails do not leave my house before to-morrow at midday, you die here.”
“Do what you will,” said the snail, “we will stay. We are a free people. We go where we will, we eat what we like, and just now we like honey. We shall eat all the honey you have, if we wish it. At any rate, we will stay now, for we would like to see what you can do that is so great.”
Then the bee king looked grave and called all his soldiers together, and told them to prepare for battle. The first order was, “Make ready your wax until midday!” The second order was, “Sharpen your swords and be ready!”
The great army of thousands with sharpened stings was commanded to make the noise of battle and sting to the death if need be.
The snails were frightened at the battle cries and drew into their shells. Then the king ordered the soldiers to bring wax quickly. And while thousands of bees kept the snails frightened by the great noise of battle, other soldiers filled the snails’ mouths with the [[36]]wax; and in two hours they were sealed so that they could not move nor breathe.
The bee king then said to the snails, “At first I thought you were friends, and I offered you shelter for the night and all the honey you could eat. But you thought the Creator made the earth for you alone and nothing for any one else. With such natures as yours, if you were as large and powerful as the birds or the beasts, there would be no room for any other creature in all the world. Truly you spoke, when you said you would stay, for now you die.”
Then the king moved all his people away to a new house and left the snails to die.
One day when the master came to get honey and saw the empty house and the five dead snails, he said, “This bee house, with all the honey, is poisoned. It must be cleansed.”
And the dead snails and the spoiled honey were sunk into the earth together, but the bees lived on and were happy and useful.
Ee-Sze (Meaning): The proud and selfish want everything, but deserve nothing. [[37]]
[1] This species of garden-snail is found in China, and is about the size of a large Roman snail. It sucks the juice of the fruit while on the [[32]]trees, eats flies and bugs and, the Chinese say, is fond of sweets. It reproduces every thirty days by spreading a leaf with a sticky substance where the sun shines, the family of young snails coming in about fifteen days. [↑]
THE PROUD CHICKEN
傲雞
A widow named Hong-Mo lived in a little house near the market place. Every year she raised many hundreds of chickens, which she sold to support herself and her two children.
Each day the chickens went to the fields near by and hunted bugs, rice, and green things to eat. [[38]]
The largest one was called the king of the chickens because, of all the hundreds in the flock, he was the strongest. And for this reason he was the leader of them all.
He led the flock to new places for food. He could crow the loudest, and as he was the strongest, none dared oppose him in any way.
One day he said to the flock, “Let us go to the other side of the mountain near the wilderness to-day, and hunt rice, wheat, corn, and wild silkworms. There is not enough food here.”
But the other chickens said, “We are afraid to go so far. There are foxes and eagles in the wilderness, and they will catch us.”
The king of the chickens said, “It is better that all the old hens and cowards stay at home.”
The king’s secretary said, “I do not know fear. I will go with you.” Then they started away together.
When they had gone a little distance, the secretary found a beetle, and just as he was going to swallow it, the king flew at him in great anger, saying, “Beetles are for kings, not for common chickens. Why did you not give it to me?” So they fought together, and while they were fighting, the beetle ran away and hid under the grass where he could not be found.
And the secretary said, “I will not fight for you, [[39]]neither will I go to the wilderness with you.” And he went home again.
At sunset the king came home. The other chickens had saved the best roosting place for him; but he was angry because none of them had been willing to go to the wilderness with him, and he fought first with one and then with another.
He was a mighty warrior, and therefore none of them could stand up against him. And he pulled the feathers out of many of the flock.
At last the chickens said, “We will not serve this king any longer. We will leave this place. If Hong-Mo will not give us another home, we will stay in the vegetable garden. We will do that two or three nights, and see if she will not give us another place to live.”
So the next day, when Hong-Mo waited at sunset for the chickens to come home, the king was the only one who came.
And she asked the king, “Where are all my chickens?”
But he was proud and angry, and said, “They are of no use in the world. I would not care if they always stayed away.”
Hong-Mo answered, “You are not the only chicken in the world. I want the others to come back. If you drive them all away, you will surely see trouble.” [[40]]
But the king laughed and jumped up on the fence and crowed—“Nga-Un-Gan-Yu-Na” (coo-ka-doodle-doo-oo) in a loud voice. “I don’t care for you! I don’t care for you!”
Hong-Mo went out and called the chickens, and she hunted long through the twilight until the dark night came, but she could not find them. The next morning early she went to the vegetable garden, and there she found her chickens. They were glad to see her, and bowed their heads and flew to her.
Hong-Mo said, “What are you doing? Why do you children stay out here, when I have given you a good house to live in?”
The secretary told her all about the trouble with the king.
Hong-Mo said, “Now you must be friendly to each other. Come with me, and I will bring you and your king together. We must have peace here.”
When the chickens came to where the king was, he walked about, and scraped his wings on the ground, and sharpened his spurs. His people had come to make peace, and they bowed their heads and looked happy when they saw their king. But he still walked about alone and would not bow.
He said, “I am a king—always a king. Do you know that? You bow your heads and think that [[41]]pleases me. But what do I care? I should not care if there was never another chicken in the world but myself. I am king.”
And he hopped up on a tree and sang some war songs. But suddenly an eagle who heard him, flew down and caught him in his talons and carried him away. And the chickens never saw their proud, quarrelsome king again.
Ee-Sze (Meaning): No position in life is so high that it gives the right to be proud and quarrelsome. [[42]]
THE LEMON TREE AND THE PUMELO
檸檬與酸梅
Once a Lemon Tree and a Pumelo Tree lived and grew together in an old orchard.
When the springtime came, they opened wide their beautiful blossoms and were very happy.
And all the children came to visit them, and their hearts were glad with the joy of springtime. [[43]]
When the warm winds blew, they bowed their heads and waved their blossom-covered arms until they looked like gay little flower girls dancing in the sunshine.
Then the birds came together, and sang sweet songs to the fragrant, happy trees, and their joy lasted from spring until summer.
But once in the summer time the Lemon Tree talked all night long, telling the Pumelo Tree of a great sorrow that had come to her. And she said, “I wish I were a Pumelo Tree, for I have learned that the children of men do not like my children so well as they like yours.
“The first born of my family are thrown away or destroyed. The second generation are taken from me and put in the sunshine for twenty days before they are liked. They are never seen in the market places as your children are, for it is said we are too bitter and sour.
“My children are not well thought of. Ah me! I wish I were not a Lemon Tree.
“Why did the Creator make your children so sweet that they have a good name in all the world, while mine are sour and bitter?
“My flowers are the same as your flowers. My trees are liked the same as yours, but my fruit is almost despised. [[44]]
“When the Moon feast day of the eighth month and fifteenth day comes, then your children have a happy time for they are honored in every family. When the New Year feast day comes, your children are placed on the first table and every one says, ‘Oh, how beautiful!’
“Women and girls like to kiss your children’s sweet faces. Oh, Mrs. Pumelo, I should like to be as great a blessing to the world as you are.”
And the Pumelo said, “My dear friend, do not say these sad words to me. I feel sure that some day you will be loved as much as I am.
“Did you know that the master spoke of your beauty to-day?”
“What did he say?” asked the Lemon Tree.
“He said, ‘How beautiful the Lemon Tree is! I think I shall try to graft the branches of the Lemon Tree on to the Pumelo Tree.’
“Wait until another springtime comes and you will see how much your children will be honored. How happy we shall be together when you come to grow with me and I with you.”
So the next year the master and his son brought a sharp knife and cut the Lemon Tree’s branches, and fastened them to the Pumelo Tree.
The first fruit came and the children danced for joy. [[45]]
“How queer to see lemons growing on the Pumelo Tree!” they said.
And the lemons were no longer bitter and sour, but were so pleasant to taste and so fair to look upon that many were saved for the coming feast day.
The Lemon Tree saw that her children were honored, and she was very happy.
Her heart was grateful to the Pumelo Tree who had raised her children to honored places.
And from that time the Lemon Tree and the Pumelo both had the same body and the same mind, the same happiness and the same friends, through many generations forever.
Ee-Sze (Meaning): When you help another you make two people happy. [[46]]
WOO SING AND THE MIRROR
借鏡訓子
One day Woo Sing’s father brought home a mirror from the great city.
Woo Sing had never seen a mirror before. It was hung in the room while he was out at play, so when he came in he did not understand what it was, but thought he saw another boy. [[47]]
This made him very happy, for he thought the boy had come to play with him.
He spoke to the stranger in a very friendly way, but received no reply.
He laughed and waved his hand at the boy in the glass, who did the same thing, in exactly the same way.
Then Woo Sing thought, “I will go closer. It may be that he does not hear me”. But when he began to walk, the other boy imitated him.
Woo Sing stopped to think about these strange actions, and he said to himself, “This boy mocks me, he does everything that I do;” and the more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and soon he noticed that the boy became angry too.
So Woo Sing grew very much enraged and struck the boy in the glass, but he only hurt his hand and he went crying to his father.
The father said, “The boy you saw was your own image. This should teach you an important lesson, my son. You ought never to show your anger before other people. You struck the boy in the glass and hurt only yourself.
“Now remember, that in real life when you strike without cause you will hurt yourself most of all.” [[48]]
TWO MOTHERS AND A CHILD[1]
二母一孩
Woo-Liu-Mai’s (sweet smelling flower) husband died when her boy baby was just two days old. She was young—only fifteen—and had loved her husband [[49]]much; and now she felt very lonely and sad. In her heart she wondered why the gods had taken him away from her and the little baby, who needed him so much; but she was a good woman and patient, and never complained to the heavens or to her friends.
One day she felt that she must talk to somebody about it all. So she went to her mother-in-law and said, “Mother, to-morrow is the New Year Day and we must make merry and buy firecrackers and incense for the temple. We have thirty gods in our house and we worship often, but they do not help us any. They would not keep my husband alive and let us be happy together.”
Woo-Liu-Mai’s mother-in-law answered, “My child, we can see many people worse off than we are. Look at the poor—and there are many of them. They have no houses to live in. They go around to many market places, begging rice and sweet potatoes. They walk all the time and lose their health trying to get enough food to keep alive. Sometimes they walk from early morning to the dark night and get only one little meal.
“And, daughter, do you not know how many people are frozen and die by the wayside in the cold winter? The New Year brings them two or three days of happiness, then all the rest of the year they are hungry and sad. [[50]]
“You married my son very young and you are not yet old. You have a good house to live in, plenty of clothes to wear, and a little son. I think you have great blessings from the gods. To-morrow is the New Year Day, and we will buy some pretty red paper to cut in a thousand pieces and hang on our walls, doors, beds, and vases.
“We will make a happy New Year and worship the gods. We will open our door wide and our friends who are happy will come to us and make the New Year call. We will cook the two sweet potatoes, one for you and one-half for me, and the other half for the child. Now see what a happy New Year we shall have.”
But on the morning of the New Year early, Woo-Liu-Mai awoke and found her child dead in the bed by her side, and she ran sobbing her great despair to her mother-in-law.
“We will not hang up the red paper on the door or any place, mother, for our happiness is all dead now. We will have a funeral in three days.”
Woo-Liu-Mai’s mother then took a piece of blue cloth and nailed it to the door, so that people would know that some one was dead there and would not come near the house for fear of bad luck. And she laid the child on a cloth and covered him with another cloth until the third day, when he would be buried. [[51]]
When people passed by and saw the blue cloth on the door, they thought the mother-in-law, who was old, must be dead.
The second day Woo-Liu-Mai went to her own mother’s home, which was some distance from there, and said, “Mother, my child is dead. Just as the New Year Day came, in the morning early, before the sunrise—so he died.”
Woo-Liu-Mai’s sisters, cousins, and neighbors came to comfort her, because they were sorry. She was now both a widow and childless. In China it is bad to be a widow, but to be both widowed and childless makes of a woman almost an outcast.
One favorite cousin, Woo-Lau-Chan, a very good woman who loved Woo-Liu-Mai like a sister, had a baby just the age of the one who had died, and when she heard the news, she thought much in her heart of her cousin’s great sorrow. “How can my cousin find comfort in life any more?” she said in her mind. “She lost her husband when so young and now she has lost her only child. The first happiness lost—the second happiness lost. A widowed woman has nothing more to expect in life. Oh, I want to do something for her. Clothes, money, bracelets, jewelry, can not comfort her without her child.”
Woo-Lau-Chan then dressed herself and took up [[52]]her sleeping child and ran to the house where the dead baby lay. She was brave and went into the dark empty room, and no one saw her. She never thought or cared about the bad luck it might bring, nor of herself in any way. She thought only of the great sorrow of the dead child’s mother.
The still body lay on the floor; she took off its clothes and put them on her own baby, and she waited until he had had milk and slept again; then she laid him on the floor and took the body of the dead child and went out into the great forest, where she left it.
She then went back to her cousin with a happy smiling face and said, “Woo-Liu-Mai, I wish you would come with me to your home.”
“No,” said Woo-Liu-Mai sadly, “I will go to-morrow and bury my child. I will stay here until then.”
“But you can not wait until to-morrow. Come with me now. The gods told me in a dream last night that your child would live again. Kwoh-King may now be crying for milk. Come, go now.”
But Woo-Liu-Mai said, “No, it can not be. You tell me what is not true. I will go to-morrow to bury my dead.”
Just then word came from the mother-in-law, “Your child is alive. Come home.”
Woo-Liu-Mai went home and saw the child sitting [[53]]on the grandmother’s lap. And the grandmother said, “Three days your child lay on the floor as if dead. His face is changed, his body is changed. Strange, he seems not like the same baby, but he is alive, alive.”
Then they thanked the gods with great joy, and the boy grew and was wise beyond the number of his years.
Woo-Liu-Mai’s heart was now filled with great peace, and she no longer complained even in secret against the gods.
Woo-Lau-Chan, the real mother, kept her secret well and no one knew, but in her heart she said,
“The time will come, when I must tell my son all. When the years have grown old, Kwoh-King, his children and his children’s children will bow in reverence to the ancestors who brought them into life, and it is right that he should know the truth and have his own birthright.”
But in his youth she said, “Not now, for the judgment of youth is unstable and he might forsake Woo-Liu-Mai, and leave her again sorrowful.”
When Kwoh-King was seven years old, he began school, and he learned fast. But in time the money was nearly gone and Woo-Liu-Mai was too poor to send him longer to the nearest school.
One of her cousins, who was a teacher, sent word that he would teach the child, so he was sent to the school [[54]]where he need not pay. When Kwoh-King was sixteen years old, he finished his studies with great honor. He was still wiser than his years and went to work for the government, soon being given a high state position.
Then his mother, Woo-Lau-Chan, who was also a widow, wrote the whole truth to Kwoh-King and to the government—his father’s name, his mother’s name, his home, his house—all with great care.
And the two mothers, the mother who raised him and the mother who bore him, were called by the government; and when the Emperor heard this story, they were given a beautiful house, and Kwoh-King lived near and took loving care of them both as long as they lived. [[55]]
[1] This story is about two thousand years old and is found in Chinese historical literature. [↑]
THE BOY WHO WOULD NOT TELL A LIE[1]
童不說謊
Si-Ma-Quong lived in the Province of Sze-Chuen. When he was young (about six years old) he played [[56]]with a dog and a cat, but they hunted all night long for food in the wilderness, and his mother feared he might get the devil-sickness from them. So one day his father paid much silver for Wa-Na-Juch, a bird with a beautiful song, for his son to play with.
Wa-Na-Juch hopped on Si-Ma-Quong’s lap and shoulder and ate from his hand. He was a very handsome bird, and he sang all day long.
One day he flew out to the lake to bathe, and Si-Ma-Quong was very happy watching him. Then he ran and told his mother, “Mü-Tsing,[2] I saw the bird bathe in the lake. I think the water is too cold for him. Give him a good hot bath, as you give me.”
His mother said, “In winter you have a warm bath, but not too hot.”
When she bathed Si-Ma-Quong, she showed him why the water must not be too hot for the bird, and he seemed to understand. But the next day when his mother went out, Si-Ma-Quong said to his bird, “Wa-Na-Juch, do you want a bath?” And the bird said, “Chi-Chi,” which the boy thought meant “Yes, Yes.”
He put some clean hot water in a dish, and called the bird, but it would not even go near the water.
This made Si-Ma-Quong angry. “You tell me a lie, and that is very bad,” he said to the bird. “You said, [[57]]‘Yes, Yes,’ when I asked if you wanted a bath. Now, I will bathe you as Mü-Tsing bathes me.”
He then put the bird in the hot water, but it chirped loudly and tried to get away. “Do not cry and be a bad bird,” said Si-Ma-Quong. “I cry sometimes too, when Mü-Tsing bathes me,” but in two or three minutes, the bird lay still and he put it on the table to dry.
When his mother came, he said, “Mü-Tsing, my bird is cold. He is on the table. I think he wants some clothes. Give him my fur jacket and make him warm, so he will stand up and sing.”
His mother did not know about the bath, so she said, “Oh no, the bird needs no jacket. He wears a feather jacket.”
She then went into the room and saw the bird lying on the table, and she said, “He is dead. Who did this, Si-Ma-Quong? He is wet. Did he go to the pond? I think you killed him. If you did, your father will surely beat you, and he will never bring you another bird.”
And Si-Ma-Quong cried and said, “Yes, I did it. I put him in hot water. I bathed him just as you bathe me. At first he would not go in, but I made him. Then he cried, ‘Chi-Chi-Chee.’ Will you tell my father? I think he will forgive me, if I tell him the truth. He did the last time I did wrong.” [[58]]
When time came for the evening meal, his mother called him, but he would not eat. He said, “I am sorry about Wa-Na-Juch, and I can not eat food. Wait until my father comes, so that I may tell him all I have done.”
* * * * * * * *
Once Si-Ma-Quong and two other boys were trying to peel fruit that grew in a neighbor’s garden, but the peach skins were tight and the boys were not skilled. Their task seemed not likely to be finished, when a man passing by said, “I will tell you how to peel the peaches. Get boiling water, drop the peaches in and take them out in a very little time, and then you can pull off their skins easily.”
The man whose peaches they were peeling came soon, and saw that the task was finished. He looked at the fruit and said, “I never saw fruit peeled with so little waste. How did you do it?”
They showed him the hot water and he said, “You are very wise to know first this way of peeling fruit. I will give a piece of silver to each of the boys who made the discovery.”
He asked the other two, “Did you?” and “Did you?” and they both said, “Yes.” He then gave them the silver, but Si-Ma-Quong said, “No, I do not want the silver. We did not ourselves know how to remove the peach skins. A strange man showed us.” [[59]]
Now these two things happened when Si-Ma-Quong was very young; and he lived seventy-two years and served his emperor and his nation wisely. He did many great things, because he was true in the little things. So history says that this man, who never spoke falsely as a child, youth, or man, was one of the greatest men in the Chinese nation.
[[60]]
[1] This is a Chinese life story and is about twelve hundred years old. [↑]
[2] Mandarin dialect word meaning mother. [↑]
A GREAT REPENTANCE AND A GREAT FORGIVENESS
悔恕並行
Liang-Sheng-Yü was one of the great generals of China. He had served his kingdom wisely for many years, when there was a war of four nations. Liang-Sheng-Yü conquered the other nations, and put them under the authority of his king. [[61]]
He was also called Seung-Foo, or the great Helper of the King. He was given this honorable title because he had served two generations of kings—father and son.
One day Liang-Sheng-Yü reproved the general, Liang-Po, in the presence of the king. Liang-Po was angry because of this and said to himself, “Although Liang-Sheng-Yü is a great general, he should not say these things to me in the king’s presence. He has found fault before the king. I will now find fault with him and accuse him before the king. The king forgave me, only because he knew I had done many good things for the kingdom.”
He went to his home, but he could not sleep, for his heart burned with anger. In the morning his face was yet cast down with sorrow, for he could not forget his great disgrace before the king. His wife questioned him, “What troubled you last night?” But he only answered, “Do not ask.”
A servant brought his morning meal, but it was to him as if it had no taste. And the wine-servant gave him wine, but it tasted as water. Another servant brought him water to bathe, and he said, “It is too cold.” But the water was such as it always had been.
Three days passed by and the heart of Liang-Po changed not. Then he went to the house of a friend. [[62]]On the way, while still at some distance, he saw Liang-Sheng-Yü coming and he tried to meet him and talk with him. But Liang-Sheng-Yü walked by on the other side and would not see.
Liang-Po said to himself, “This is a strange and terrible thing. I was never his enemy; why is he so long angry? Why will he not face me? With him I served the king many years. I can not see why he should turn away from me. He is wrong, wrong.”
He went home and wrote a letter to Liang-Sheng-Yü saying, “I saw you on the Wun-Chung Street to-day and I desired to meet you and tell you many things. I believe you wished not to see me, for you walked on the other side, with your face turned from me. So my heart has another sorrow. I would see you to-morrow, soon after the morning meal, and I invite you to come to my house and eat the noon meal with me.”
But when the servant had brought Liang-Sheng-Yü the letter and he had read it, he threw it into the fire and said not a word. The servant saw and went home and told Liang-Po.
Fifty days after this, word came that the Chaa-Kwa Kingdom was about to make war against the Juo Kingdom.
The king, therefore, sent word to the general, Liang-Po, [[63]]and to the great helper, Liang-Sheng-Yü, saying, “I want you to come at once to me, your king.”
When he received the word, Liang-Po said, “I think there will be a great war with the Chaa-Kwa Kingdom.” So he waited before going to the king, and gave orders that four thousand soldiers should make ready for battle.
They made ready, and for two days Liang-Po delayed his going. But Liang-Sheng-Yü was already with the king. And in his heart he had fear, for he thought, “Liang-Po will not come. I have made him feel shame before the king. I have done wrong. But if he comes not, our nation is surely lost. We can not go into battle without him.”
The king asked him, “Why has not the general, Liang-Po, come into my presence? We can not have war without the general. Without him we can not even send an answer to the Chaa-Kwa Kingdom.”
Liang-Sheng-Yü answered and said, “Before I sleep this night, I will see the general.” Then he went to his home and told his servants, “I have not time for food. I must see General Liang-Po.” And he bade them cut a bundle of thorn sticks, which he took and carried to Liang-Po’s house.
It was the time of Nyi-Kang (Everything Quiet) when Liang-Sheng-Yü came to General Liang-Po’s [[64]]house. He knocked on the door three or four times before the servants opened it and asked, “Who is here?” He answered, “I am Liang-Sheng-Yü. Tell your master I must see him to-night, or I die.”
Liang-Po dressed himself and came to the door. There he saw an old man with head so bowed as to conceal his face. He wore old clothes, and he carried a sword on his back and a bundle of thorn sticks in his hands. And he knelt on the floor.
General Liang-Po said, “Who is this?” Then Liang-Sheng-Yü, the great and proud helper of two generations of kings, said, “I wish to see General Liang-Po.”
His face was still close to the floor and his voice trembled as he spoke. “General Liang-Po,” he said, “I was against you before the king and I have learned that the fault was mine. I found you right, and I am guilty, not you. I have done you great wrong. General Liang-Po, my sword is on my back and a bundle of thorn sticks is in my hand. Take the sticks and beat me. Take the sword and cut off my head. We can not make war to-morrow, if we are not at peace to-night.”
Then Liang-Po, the great general, helped Liang-Sheng-Yü upon his feet and said, “No, we have always been friends. We will be friends forever, and together we will serve our king. I wish you to forgive me. I [[65]]wish the king, too, to forgive me, for I have also made mistakes. We will all forgive and be forgiven—then we will surely be friends.”
The two great men bowed down together and worshiped the Creator, and they both swore that from that time they would have the same mind.
[[66]]
THE MAN WHO LOVED MONEY BETTER THAN LIFE
愛財勝於愛命
In ancient times there was an old woodcutter who went to the mountain almost every day to cut wood.
It was said that this old man was a miser who hoarded [[67]]his silver until it changed to gold, and that he cared more for gold than anything else in all the world.
One day a wilderness tiger sprang at him and though he ran he could not escape, and the tiger carried him off in its mouth.
The woodcutter’s son saw his father’s danger, and ran to save him if possible. He carried a long knife, and as he could run faster than the tiger, who had a man to carry, he soon overtook them.
His father was not much hurt, for the tiger held him by his clothes. When the old woodcutter saw his son about to stab the tiger he called out in great alarm:
“Do not spoil the tiger’s skin! Do not spoil the tiger’s skin! If you can kill him without cutting holes in his skin we can get many pieces of silver for it. Kill him, but do not cut his body.”
While the son was listening to his father’s instructions the tiger suddenly dashed off into the forest, carrying the old man where the son could not reach him, and he was soon killed.
And the wise man who told this story said, “Ah, this old man’s courage was foolishness. His love for money was stronger than his love for life itself.” [[68]]
THE HEN AND THE CHINESE MOUNTAIN TURTLE
雞龞之爭
Four hundred and fifty years ago in Sze-Cheung Province, Western China, there lived an old farmer named Ah-Po.
The young farmers all said Ah-Po knew everything. [[69]]If they wanted to know when it would rain, they asked Ah-Po, and when he said, “It will not rain to-morrow,” or “You will need your bamboo-hat[1] this time to-morrow,” it was as he said. He knew all about the things of nature and how to make the earth yield best her fruits and seeds, and some said he was a prophet.
One day Ah-Po caught a fine mountain turtle. It was so large that it took both of Ah-Po’s sons to carry it home. They tied its legs together and hung it on a strong stick, and each son put an end of the stick on his shoulder.
Ah-Po said, “We will not kill the turtle. He is too old to eat, and I think we will keep him and watch the rings grow around his legs each year.” So they gave him a corner in the barnyard and fed him rice and water.
Ah-Po had many chickens, and for three months the turtle and chickens lived in peace with each other. But one day all the young chickens came together and laughed at the turtle. Then they said to him, “Why do you live here so long? Why do you not go back to your own place? This small barnyard corner is not so good as your cave in the wilderness. You have only a [[70]]little sand and grass to live on here. The servant feeds you, but she never gives you any wilderness fruits. You are very large, and you take up too much room. We need all the room there is here. You foolish old thing, do you think our fathers and mothers want you? No. There is not one of our people who likes you. Besides, you are not clean. You make too much dirt. The servant girl gave you this water to drink, and your water bowl is even now upside down. You scatter rice on our floor. Too many flies come here to see you, and we do not like flies.”
The turtle waited until they had all finished scolding. Then he said, “Do you think I came here myself? Who put me here, do you know? Do you suppose I like to be in jail? You need not be jealous. I never ate any rice that belonged to you or your family. I am not living in your house. What are you complaining about? If our master should take your whole family and sell it, he would only get one piece of silver. Who and what are you to talk so much? Wait and see; some day I may have the honored place.”
Some of the chickens went home and told their mother, “We had an argument with the turtle to-day and he had the last word. To-morrow we want you to go with us and show him that a chicken can argue, as well as a turtle.” [[71]]
The next day all the chickens of the barnyard went to see the turtle. And the old hen said, “My children came here to play yesterday, and you scolded them and drove them away. You said all my family were not worth one piece of silver. You think you are worth many pieces of gold, I suppose. No one likes you. Your own master would not eat you. And the market people would never buy a thing so old and tough as you are. But I suppose you will have to stay here in our yard a thousand years or so, until you die. Then they will carry you to the wilderness and throw you into the Nobody-Knows Lake.”
Then the turtle answered and said, “I am a mountain turtle. I come from a wise family, and it is not easy for even man to catch me. Educated men, doctors, know that I am useful for sickness, but if all the people knew the many ways they could use me, I think there would soon be no more turtles in the world. Many Chinese know that my skin is good for skin disease, and my forefeet are good for the devil-sickness in children, as they drive the devil away; and then my shells are good for sore throat, and my stomach is good for stomach-ache, and my bones are good for toothache. Do you remember that not long ago our master brought three turtle eggs to feed your children? I heard him say, ‘Those little chickens caught cold in [[72]]that damp place, and so I must give them some turtle eggs.’ I saw your children eat those three eggs, and in two or three days they were well.
“So you see the turtle is a useful creature in the world, even to chickens. Why do you not leave me in peace? As I must stay here against my will, it is not right that your children should trouble me. Sometimes they take all my rice and I go hungry, for our master will not allow me to go outside of this fence to hunt food for myself. I never come to your house and bother you, but your children will not even let me live in peace in the little corner our master gave me. If I had a few of my own people here with me, as you have, I think you would not trouble me. But I have only myself, while you are many.
“Yesterday your children scolded me and disturbed my peace. To-day you come again; and to-morrow and many to-morrows will see generations and still more unhatched generations of chickens coming here to scold me, I fear; for the length of life of a cackling hen is as a day to me—a mountain turtle. I know the heaven is large, I know the earth is large and made for all creatures alike. But you think the heavens and the earth were both made for you and your chickens only. If you could drive me away to-day, you would try to-morrow to drive the dog away, and in time you would [[73]]think the master himself ought not to have enough of your earth and air to live in. This barnyard is large enough for birds, chickens, ducks, geese, and pigs. It makes our master happy to have us all here.”
The chickens went away ashamed. Talking to each other about it, they said, “The turtle is right. It is foolish to want everything. We barnyard creatures must live at peace with each other until we die. The barnyard is not ours; we use it only a little while.”
Ee-Sze (Meaning): The Creator made the world for all to use, and, while using it, the strong should not try to drive out the weak. [[74]]
[1] Bamboo-hat:—A large umbrella-shaped hat, made of bamboo, and worn by the Chinese to keep off the rain. [↑]
THE BOY OF PERFECT DISPOSITION[1]
完全之性格
THE STORY OF TSEN-TSZE, A PUPIL OF CONFUCIUS
About two thousand four hundred and twenty years [[75]]ago, Tsen-Tsze[2] was a child and lived in San-Szi Province. For twenty-one years he studied many things with the great teacher, Confucius. And the first great moral law of Confucius he obeyed, not only in his acts, but in his heart, even when beaten for a thing he did not understand.[3] And it is not on record that any other man has ever done this.
In earliest childhood, he always loved and reverenced his father and mother. In the morning when he arose he went to see his parents before he would have the morning meal.
One day Tsen-Tsze’s mother went away to visit his grandparents. When she left, she said, “Dear son, I will return in one day. You and your father will be happy for a day without me.” And he knelt[4] and bowed his head to worship his mother at parting. [[76]]
The evening came and she did not return, and Tsen-Tsze could not eat food or sleep that night from anxiety for his mother. And when the maid servant called him for the morning meal, he said, “No; I can not eat food until I see my mother’s face.” But his father said, “You must eat and go to school.”
“I can not eat food or study books until my mother comes,” said Tsen-Tsze, and word was sent his teacher who said, “You are not quite wise, Tsen-Tsze. If your mother should die, would you then no longer study? I hope to see you soon at school.”
At midday his mother came. Then he had food, and went to school and studied his lessons.
When he came home from school, he always went to see where his parents were before going to play. At meal time he would not take food until his father and mother began eating. When he met an old person on the street, he uncovered his head and stood aside respectfully to let him pass before he went on.
These and all other customs of courtesy were observed and honored by Tsen-Tsze. At school he studied his lessons faithfully, and never left tasks unfinished. Every day he asked his teacher, “Have I done any wrong to-day?”—so great was his desire to know the right and to do all that he knew. [[77]]
One day Tsen-Tsze’s father beat him with a long Kia-Tsa (stick).[5] When he got up from the floor he came and took his father’s hand and asked, “Father, did I do wrong? Tell me what it was.” But his father’s face was red with anger, and he would not explain.
Tsen-Tsze went out to the schoolroom and took his music box and came again before his father’s face, and sat down on the floor and played and sang to him. He sang,
“Every father loves his son,
Of this all men are sure.
Each child will need the stick sometimes,
To keep his nature pure.”
And he said, “I read in history about many famous men who were great because they were gentle. I hope I shall be like them. History says their fathers gave them the stick when young.” But the anger had not all left his father’s face, and he brought him a cup of tea and said, “Father, are you thirsty?”
Then he took his father’s hand and went to the garden [[78]]where the birds were singing. He put a flower on his father’s breast and asked, “Father, do you like that? I do.”
All this caused Tsen-Tsze’s father to think, and in his heart he said, “This boy is not like other children of his age.” And so long as he had life, he never beat his son again.
Tsen-Tsze became a great scholar and finished all his studies when he was only twenty-five years old. And he was a wise and good man.
His own generation and all the generations of man that have come after him have studied about him, and have wished to be as he was. [[79]]
[1] The Chinese idea of perfection of character is based on the three hundred and fifty laws of Confucius, the first law requiring honor and [[75]]perfect obedience to parents—even in thought. The second law requires one to think of one’s own wrongdoing every day. So when Tsen-Tsze tried so hard to do right that each day he asked his parents and teacher, “Have I done anything wrong to-day?” he fulfilled the two highest laws of Confucius in spirit and in letter. [↑]
[2] Tsen-Tsze was one of the seventy-two most faithful pupils of Confucius, chosen from among this great man’s three thousand students because of his nearness to perfection in character. Most of the seventy-two students began studying with Confucius when they were children. [↑]
[3] That he did not show or even feel a spirit of resentment when his father beat him is considered a remarkable instance of honor and trust in parents. [↑]
[4] In worshiping, the Chinese bow a given number of times for each act of reverence to grandparents or dead ancestors, or to father and mother. [↑]
[5] In some parts of China this story is told the children to teach them not to resent punishment from parents. They are taught that whatever a parent does is for their good, and they must believe it unquestionably. When told this story they are asked, “Do you think you could feel that way toward your father after a whipping—or would you feel angry or sorry for yourself?” [↑]
WHAT THE YEN TZI TAUGHT THE HUNTER[1]
獵人受敎於鳥
One day a hunter was looking for a fox in the wilderness, when suddenly he saw thousands of birds coming [[80]]towards the river, and he lay quite still and waited for them all to come.
The Yen Tzi, or Kind Birds, were talking together, and the hunter listened. One asked, “Is all our company here?”
And the Leader Bird said, “No, little One-Month-Old and Two-Month and Mrs. This-Year are not here yet.”
And the Leader Bird said to the Lookout Birds, “You must go after them and help them to the river before five days. Our boats are dried and ready to sail. It is growing cold and we must all go south together.”
So the Lookout Birds flew all around the country to hunt the lost birds. They found one with a broken wing, and a little one with not enough wing feathers to fly far, and one with a wound in his leg made by a hunter, and others that were tired or very hungry. They found every missing bird, and this great family of friends were soon all together again.
But while the Lookout Birds were seeking the lost ones from their own family, they heard another bird cry, “Save me! save me, too!” And they stopped and said, “Who is calling? Some one must be in trouble.” [[81]]They flew to a lemon tree and saw a Tailor Bird with her leg all covered with blood. The Kind Birds said, “Friend, how came you in such trouble? What is your name and where do you live?”
The Tailor Bird said, “I live in the South Province, eight hundred miles away. I came here to see my friends and relatives. Three of my children are with me, and we were on our way home to the south. We had gone sixty miles, when I asked my children to stop and rest in this lemon tree, and now I do not even know where they are. I fear the hunter got them. I am hurt, too, and I do not think I shall ever see my home again. I shall lose my life here, I fear.”
The Yen Tzi heard all the Tailor Bird said. They talked together and were sorry for her who had no one to care for her, for they knew her children had been killed by the hunter. “If we do not save her life, she will surely die,” they said.
So they asked, “Would you like to go with us? We know you eat different food. We live on rice and fruit and a few bugs. We do not know that you can live as we do. And we must ride on our boats, many, many hours.”
The Tailor Bird answered, “Yes, I will go gladly, and will eat what you have and cause you no trouble.”
The Kind Birds helped the Tailor Bird to their [[82]]company and put her in one of their boats, and two or three birds fed her and cared for her until she was well.
The hunter who told this story said, “I have learned many things by watching and studying the habits of the Kind Birds. I will never kill birds again.”
Ee-Sze (Meaning): In time of trouble, man should help not only his own, but others. [[83]]
[1] The Yen Tzi, or Kind Bird, is a species of the fly-catcher family found in China. They migrate in the spring and fall, and never winter where the weather is very cold. They are very tame, sometimes even building nests in the houses of the Chinese, and eating with the chickens at feeding time. They are very gentle, never fight among themselves or [[80]]with others, share their nests with each other or even with other birds. Hence the name “Kind Birds.” They are also sometimes called “Sociable Birds,” because they always go in flocks and are never found alone. [↑]
A LESSON FROM CONFUCIUS
孔子之敎誨
孔聖人神像
—Confucius—
Confucius once heard two of his pupils quarreling. One was of a gentle nature and was called by all the students a peaceful man. The other had a good brain and a kind heart, but was given to great anger. If he wished to do a thing, he did it, and no man could prevent; if any one tried to hinder him, he would show sudden and terrible rage. [[84]]
One day, after one of these fits of temper, the blood came from his mouth, and, in great fear, he went to Confucius. “What shall I do with my body?” he asked. “I fear I shall not live long. It may be better that I no longer study and work. I am your pupil and you love me as a father. Tell me what to do for my body.”
Confucius answered, “Tsze-Lu, you have a wrong idea about your body. It is not the study, not the work in school, but your great anger that causes the trouble.
“I will help you to see this. You remember when you and Nou-Wui quarreled. He was at peace and happy again in a little time, but you were very long in overcoming your anger. You can not expect to live long if you do that way. Every time one of the pupils says a thing you do not like, you are greatly enraged. There are a thousand in this school. If each offends you only once, you will have a fit of temper a thousand times this year. And you will surely die, if you do not use more self-control. I want to ask you some questions:—
“How many teeth have you?”
“I have thirty-two, teacher.”
“How many tongues?”
“Just one.”
“How many teeth have you lost?” [[85]]
“I lost one when I was nine years old, and four when I was about twenty-six years old.”
“And your tongue—is it still perfect?”
“Oh, yes.”
“You know Mun-Gun, who is quite old?”
“Yes, I know him well.”
“How many teeth do you think he had at your age?”
“I do not know.”
“How many has he now?”
“Two, I think. But his tongue is perfect, though he is very old.”
“You see the teeth are lost because they are strong, and determined to have everything they desire. They are hard and hurt the tongue many times, but the tongue never hurts the teeth. Yet, it endures until the end, while the teeth are the first of man to decay. The tongue is peaceful and gentle with the teeth. It never grows angry and fights them, even when they are in the wrong. It always helps them do their work, in preparing man’s food for him, although the teeth never help the tongue, and they always resist everything.
“And so it is with man. The strongest to resist, is the first to decay; and you, Tsze-Lu, will be even so if you learn not the great lesson of self-control.” [[86]]