Then the good Hen Yin Gock came out from the curtain, and assured her that there was no danger. He brought out two lovely yellow roses in a vase, and put them on a small table with a bright cover, and then told Gum Sing: “If you heap good girl, and do what I say, I give you the floweh, pletty soon.”
Then he also placed on the table a flute, with gaily colored tassels, and then the cunningest little jar, which looked very much as if it might contain preserved ginger, and she was just thinking how much she liked preserved ginger when the man said: “Now keep still! look light at this box!” (The little mother trembled; could it be that after all there was something horrible in the box?) “There is a little bird in this box, and you may see it fly out if you are quiet. Now!—all leady!” (ready).
Gum Sing was so full of giggles that she could hardly be quiet, and the dimples chased each other all over her sunny face. The father and mother gazed with love and admiration at the beauty of their little almond flower, with one hand thrown carelessly on the table and the other grasping the fan.
“There!” at last said the photographer.
Gum Sing wanted to know what it was all about, yet she could not seem to find out. But several days after that, when ho chun was out on the pavement in front of their home, putting some China lilies in a bowl of water, a man came, and handed him a little package. Gum Sing was all curiosity in a minute.
“Oh, ho chun, what is it? Let me see!” she cried, and mo chun was almost as eager. So the father opened the package while they waited wonderingly, and there, before their eyes, on pieces of polished cardboard—could it be?—yes, yes!—the picture of their little Almond Blossom—big watch, fan, dimples, giggle and all.
But Gum Sing wonders to this day why the bird did not come out of the box.