On a flower-laden balcony some one was twanging on a sam yun (banjo), but even music had no charm for her now, because—the DOLL was gone. She would never see it again; the bad spirits had taken it. Perhaps it was because she had neglected to pray to the god lately. She had even dared, when no one was looking, to make a horrible face at him, and tell him she hated him. She did this because her little heart was so heavy; no one seemed to care for her, and the god never made anything nice happen to her, nor paid any attention to her little prayers. Never mind! she would pray to the moon rabbit after this; perhaps it would hear her prayer. After she had decided upon this course she was anxious to get back to her home. The children were all getting tired now, and their wooden sandals dragged heavily upon the narrow pavements.
“We go home now,” said mo chun; “Maybe moon labbit come to-night.”
At last they reached their home, and the tired children ascended the stairway. Kon Ying set to work to offer her sacrifices, as she was tired and wanted to go to bed. She had nothing to offer the moon rabbit except her old broken doll; so she placed it on a table and burned her incense sticks, and everybody thought she was praying to the god. But she was not; she knew,—and the god knew. At last she laid her tired head on the hard couch.
It seemed to her she had only been there a minute, when there came a great glare of light and the sound of Chinese flutes. The lattice window opened, and in marched a troop of tiny Chinamen, dressed in purple and gold. Each one carried a stick of lighted incense for a torch, making the room as bright as day.
They marched right up to where Kon Ying lay, and the most richly dressed one said: “Kon Ying, our queen has prepared a banquet for you; will your highness please to accept the invitation?”
Kon Ying was frightened at first, but something within her seemed to speak the words: “I shall be pleased to obey the commands of your queen;” and she made a curtsey to the royal messenger.
“Be prepared to go when the time comes!” he said, and vanished with his company.
By and by there was another glare of lights, and the sound of music. The lattice opened again, and there flitted in a crowd of the dearest little Chinese ladies, all clad in pink silk blouses, with lavender trousers, and pretty little golden sandals. They had so many diamonds in their hair and ears that it almost put out little Kon Ying’s eyes. They each carried a tiny Chinese lantern, which shed a soft light.
The most beautiful one now approached Kon Ying and said: “The queen has sent you a royal robe; please put it on, and we will hasten to the moon.”
Again the little girl gasped out: “Your highness’ commands shall be obeyed;” and slipping from her couch she stood shivering upon the floor, while the moon-maidens arrayed her in a robe of palest lavender.