LO LUEN was the little daughter of a poor Chinese fisherman, and lived in the Chinatown of Monterey, California. She was born in this beautiful country, and did not know anything about China, except what she had heard her parents say. But this country was good enough for her, she thought, with its endless skies of blue overhead, and the big noisy ocean dashing its white spray up on the silver sands right in front of the little hut she called home.
It was a very poor place, and they were very poor people, but Lo Luen did not know this, because it was all she had ever known, so it did not disturb her simple celestial mind in the least. Then she could not get lonely, for there was her small brother, Lo Duck, who was the cunningest, chubbiest little boy that she had ever seen.
Mo chun was very busy always, in the little hut, as she was a cigarette-maker, and worked at this all the time she was not doing the cooking, and making the simple garments for the family.
The father dearly loved his children, and often called Lo Luen his little fisher-maiden. This was because she was such a help to him in his fishing. She and little Lo Duck would sit out on the ground in front of their home for hours at a time, putting bait on the hooks; and this was a great help, for it saved so much time.
He would cut up a great deal of fish into small bits, and put it in a box by the children, and they would fasten it on to the hundreds of hooks on the lines, and then the big round baskets would be all ready for ho chun to cast the lines into the ocean, and draw out the beautiful fish. Lo Luen was very proud when she saw the fine fish in the boat every day, for she almost felt as if she herself had caught them, since she had put the bait on the hooks. One day she had been working so hard that her father looked at her, as she sat there in the sun with her sleeves rolled up, working away as if her life depended upon it, and he said to her: “Lo Luen, how you likee go out in big boat with ho chun?”
“Oh!” she shouted, as she clapped her little brown hands, “I likee velly much; I likee catch big fish to bling mo chun.”
“All light,” said her father. “We no takee hai tong (baby); he stay with mo chun, he too little.”
Lo Duck objected to this; he wanted to go too, but he would only be in the way, and then his mother would be worried if he went, so he was taken into the house, screaming vigorously. The timid mother felt rather afraid to trust her little daughter out on the great noisy ocean, whose waves came dashing upon the rocks with a boom like thunder; but the father said she was a big girl now, and it was time she learned something of the sea. So, while he fitted up the boat and got the nets into it, mo chun was dressing the little girl in her warmest blouse, all heavily padded, and then got out a very thick silk hood, fastening it securely on her head, and last of all, she took from the padded mumboo (tea-pot holder) a pot of boiling tea, and gave it to Lo Luen.