Time after time the treasurer knocked his head against the paving. “Most Glorious and Peaceful Monarch, your gold is so plentiful that seven years must pass before I can finish counting the larger bars—ten years more for the smaller.”
That was rather pleasant news. The King’s voice lost some of its harshness. “What of ivory? Has all my ivory been burned for firewood, a pot to boil?”
The treasurer continued to knock his Head. “Supreme Ruler of The World and The Stars, your ivory completely fills a hundred large and closely guarded vaults.”
The King hadn’t dreamed that his wealth was so vast. His voice was not more moderately furious as he asked: “For what reason have you disposed of my jade? Do you mean to say that my jade has been used to build a stable for donkeys?”
Tap, tap, tap, went the treasurer’s head on marble paving: “Oh, Powerful Potentate, the store of green jade grows larger each day. Your precious white jade is worth more than green, and gold, and ivory combined. It is all quite safe, under lock and key and watchful spears.”
The King was astonished and put in somewhat better humor. His voice was no louder than thunder as he again questioned the treasurer. “Then why, tell me why is my daughter, the Princess Chin Uor, not given suitable toys. If the treasury holds gold and ivory and jade, why is my daughter compelled to use toys of common clay?”
The treasurer could not explain: “Monarch whose word compels the sun to rise, we have pleaded with the wee Princess Chin Uor. We have given her a thousand dolls of solid gold, with silver cradles for each, cradles set with rubies—and the dolls have eyes of lustrous black pearl. For the princess we have made ivory cats, and ivory mice for the cats to catch—two thousand of each. For the princess we have fashioned from jade, lovely tossing balls, wonderful dishes, and puppy dogs that bark and come when called. Yet, the princess ignores these things . . . and makes mud pies—Mud Pies. Mightiest Majesty, I do not know why, unless it may be that the princess is a girl, as well as a princess.”
A trifle relieved, King Yang Lang passed into the garden. Beside the river bank he found his daughter, the Princess Chin Uor, or Princess Many Dimples—for that is the meaning of Chin Uor. Nurses standing near kept watch upon wheelbarrows spilling over with golden dolls. But Chin Uor had no thought for such toys. Her royal hands shaped the tastiest of mud pies. Very pretty pies they were—made of white clay.
The King said: “Littlest and most beautiful daughter, the golden dolls are longing for your touch. Why do you not please them? It is not seemly for a princess to dabble in clay. Then why do you make pies?”
The princess had a very good answer ready. “Because, Daddy, I want to make pies. This nice large one is for your dinner.”