“And the little pigs, where are they?” cried the father of Soon Yen.

The boys looked down at the baskets which had held the little pigs. While they had been dreaming of future glories, the young porkers had managed to scramble out of the loosely woven bamboo thatch of which the baskets were made.

The fathers of Ping Sik and Soon Yen produced canes.

“Without shoes and caps,” said they, “you cannot attend school. Therefore, back to the farm and feed pigs.”

GLAD YEN

“I’m so glad! so glad!” shouted little Yen.

“Why?” asked Wou. “Has any one given you a gold box with jewels, or a peacock feather fan, or a coat of many colors, or a purse of gold? Has your father become rich or been made a high mandarin?”

Wou sighed as he put these questions. He had voiced his own longings.

“No,” answered Yen, giving a hop, skip, and jump.

“Then, why are you glad?” repeated Wou.

“Why?” Yen’s bright face grew brighter. “Oh, because I have such a beautiful blue sky, such a rippling river, waterfalls that look like lace and pearls and diamonds, and sun-beams brighter and more radiant than the finest jewels. Because I have chirping insects, and flying beetles, and dear, wiggly worms—and birds, oh, such lovely birds, all colors! And some of them can sing. I have a sun and a moon and stars. And flowers? Wouldn’t any one be glad at the sight of flowers?”

Wou’s sad and melancholy face suddenly lighted and overflowed with smiles.

“Why,” said he, “I have all these bright and beautiful things. I have the beautiful sky, and water, and birds, and flowers, too! I have the sun, and the moon, and the stars, just as you have! I never thought of that before!”

“Of course you have,” replied Yen. “You have all that is mine, and I all that is yours, yet neither can take from the other!”

THE DECEPTIVE MAT

When Tsin Yen was about eight years old, he and his little brother were one fine day enjoying a game of battledore and shuttlecock on the green lawn, which their father had reserved as a playground for their use. The lawn was a part of a very elaborate garden laid out with many rare flowers and ferns and exquisite plants in costly porcelain jars. The whole was enclosed behind high walls.

It was a very warm day and the garden gate had been left open, so that the breeze could better blow within. A man stood outside the gate, watching the boys. He carried a small parcel under his arm.

“Will not the jewel eyes of the honorable little ones deign to turn my way?” he cried at last.

Tsin Yen and Tsin Yo looked over at him.

“What is your wish, honorable sir?” asked Tsin Yen.

And the man replied: “That I may be allowed space in which to spread my mat on your green. The road outside is dusty and the insects are more lively than suits my melancholy mood.”