Gum Ching’s eyes filled with tears, for she had never before known the sweetness of a loving woman’s voice. She was led into the room, not even caring now if she was punished, for it was well worth it. Her sparkling oblique eyes almost danced out of her head at all this beauty. Everywhere were sparkles—sparkles—and they fairly dazzled her. It must be a dream, she thought. She looked before her, and—what was that great green tree towering toward the ceiling? It was—it must be—the Christmas tree! And did all those pretty things really grow on the tree? she could not understand it.
Her brother could not believe his eyes when he saw her there. She?—nothing but a girl?—what right had she to enjoy herself? But she was there, for all that, and her small brown and timid hand was held in a warm and loving clasp by one of the kind teachers, and she was made to feel that, after all, in the big lonely world there was some one who cared, and her little heart was full to overflowing, and she had to blink very hard to keep back the tears—tears of pure joy.
She was given many things from that beautiful tree, and, best of all, the teacher took her home; and ho chun was good to her, and did not punish her at all, but promised—just think of it! promised—that she could go to the tree again next year.
HO CHIN’S FOURTH OF JULY
HO CHIN was ten years old, and had never had a Fourth of July. Just think of it! Ho Chin was the son of the Chinese Consul, and his rank placed him so far above the ordinary Chinese boys that he was very much looked up to, and respected by them. Ho Chin did not live in one of the small, dark, opium-scented rooms in which the rest of the Chinese children lived, but in the elegant Consulate with its large rooms and marble stairway; but, after all, he was just a boy, and liked the things that boys liked. He attended a very select American school, and dressed in American style. In fact, nothing was too good for Ho Chin—the eldest son of a Consul. But you know, sometimes he almost wished he was a common boy, and could run and play, and have the perfect freedom of the street boy.
Now at school he had of late heard of nothing but the Fourth of July. “What is the Fourth of July?” he finally ventured to ask.