"One day when the sub-prefect was sitting chatting with the priest, they again saw the flock of ducks coming waddling and quacking along. 'What do they say this time?' asked the sub-prefect. 'This time,' replied the priest, 'their remarks are very different from those on the previous occasion. This time they are chatting about Your Honour's miscellaneous accounts.'
"'What miscellaneous account of mine?' asked the sub-prefect. 'What they are calling is "Commute it, commute it, candle-money a hundred and eight, vermilion-money eight tiao eight,"' replied the priest. The sub-prefect was so ashamed that his face got red all over, and he suspected the priest of intentionally jesting. But he took no notice of his remark and the matter passed over. On the next day the priest wanted to go, but the sub-prefect persisted in keeping him and would not let him leave. After a few more days had passed the sub-prefect had a party in the summer-house in his garden, and they suddenly heard a small bird that was perched upon a tree begin to chirp. One of the guests at the table said, 'Do you hear this bird? What does he say?' 'This bird,' said the priest, 'is saying something not very nice. He says "lose office go."'
"When the guests who were present heard these words of the priest there was not one of them that was not startled, but the sub-prefect got into a great rage and ordered his underlings to drive the crazy priest out of the yamen. Not many days afterwards, however, the sub-prefect was dismissed from office for corruption and bribery and on his record was it written that he was never to be employed again. Thus was the priest vindicated and his powers fully proved."
Wang the Ninth ended his story earnestly and seriously, believing that it was true.
"You are a fine story-teller," commented the girl, nodding her head repeatedly. "What a pity it is that you do not adopt it is a profession when you are fully-grown."
He shook his head.
"I have no kind of learning, only a ready memory for names and things. It is possible that in the account I gave you of the Taoist priest I made mistakes which would have brought laughter from those who are skilled in the telling of tales. The slightest deviation is counted a fault."
Later, he swung lightly off the wall with a farewell nod and was lost to view. He was not many days older when he overheard a neighbour casually saying that the reason the old steward showed such caution regarding his grand-child was because his master did not know how from his profits he had not only purchased this adjacent house but several others near by for the purpose of selling to new foreigners as they came. To the boy's surprise, the neighbour called the girl sha-ta-ku-niang,—Miss Simpleton. She was a simpleton and he had never guessed it—in spite of her hiding behind the great jar of water-lilies.
That obtuseness on his part deeply humiliated him.