The cottage door was open. On the green in front played Yen. Mother Chan, who was taking a cup of afternoon tea with a neighbor, had said to him when she bade him goodbye, “Be a good little son and take good care of the baby and your honorable grandfather.”
Yen wore a scarlet silk skullcap, a gaily embroidered vest, and purple trousers. He had the roundest and smoothest of faces and the brightest of eyes. Some pretty stones which he had found heaped up in a corner of the green were affording him great delight and joy, and he was rubbing his fat little hands over them, when there arose upon the air the cry of Bo Shuie, the candy man. Yen gave a hop and a jump. In a moment he was at the corner of the street where stood the candy man, a whole hive of little folks grouped around him. Never was there such a fascinating fellow as this candy man. What a splendid big pole was that he had slung over his broad shoulders, and, oh, the baskets of sweetmeats which depended from it on either side!
Yen gazed wistfully at the sugared almonds and limes, the ginger and spice cakes, and the barley sugar and cocoanut.
“I will take that, honorable candy man,” said he, pointing to a twisted sugar stick of many colors.
“Cash!” said the candy man holding out his hand.
“Oh!” exclaimed Yen. He had thought only of sugar and forgotten he had no cash.
“Give it to me, honorable peddler man,” said Han Yu. “I have a cash.”
The peddler man transferred from his basket to the eager little hands of Han Yu the sugar stick of many colors.
Quick as his chubby legs could carry him, Yen ran back to the cottage. His grandfather was still dozing.
“Grandfather, honorable grandfather,” cried Yen. But his grandfather did not hear.