And between them lies the Orient—struggling and
suffering, spawning and dying—but what it is
I shall never know.
Yet there are two clean spaces in the city where I dwell,
the compound of the church within the wall, and
the courtyard of the factory beyond the wall.
It is something that in these two one can breathe.
Wusih
Chinese New Year
Mrs. Sung has a new kitchen-god. The old one—he who has presided over the household this twelvemonth—has returned to the Celestial Regions to make his report. Before she burned him Mrs. Sung smeared his mouth with sugar; so that doubtless the report will be favorable. Now she has a new god. As she paid ten coppers for him he is handsomely painted and should be highly efficacious. So there is rejoicing in the house of Mrs. Sung.
Peking
Echoes
Crepuscule
Like the patter of rain on the crisp leaves of autumn are the tiny footfalls of the fox-maidens.
Festival of the Dragon Boats