Part 47

"The little hare knew that the stranger was the eighty-first of the princes, and so for a time, he feared to follow his advice. But he was in such pain that he decided to go to the river, which flowed like a silver ribbon through the fields toward the ocean. Into the cool water he plunged and immediately felt better, as the sand and bitter salt of the sea were washed from his wounds. Then he took a nap on the soft rushes.

"When he awoke he no longer was in pain, so he was filled with gratitude toward the young prince who had given him such kind and wise advice. He sat up, feeling quite strong again, and tried to think of a way in which he could repay his benefactor. In the distance he saw the roofs of the princess's palace rising among the trees which surrounded it. This gave him an idea, and he lost no time in carrying it out.

"Across the fields he hopped toward the palace, never stopping till he reached the garden wall. He crept in under the high gate, and there stood the princess under a cherry-tree covered with blossoms. The little hare went up to her and said respectfully:

"'Gracious Princess, I bring to you advice, if you will accept it from so insignificant a person as I.'

"'Speak, little hare,' the beautiful princess answered, for she knew that the best things are often found in unexpected places, and things are not always what they seem to be.

"'Eighty princes are coming to-day as suitors for your hand. They are dressed in rich and beautiful robes, and their faces are gay and smiling; but all that is only to hide the cruelty of their hearts. Following them is a young man who is as wise as he is kind and gentle. Turn the eighty from your gate, but honor the youngest suitor as greater than they.'

"'How do you know all this?' the princess questioned.

"So the little hare told his story for the third time, speaking so earnestly that the princess could not fail to be impressed by it. She thanked him for his advice, and after giving him some tender leaves to eat, prepared to receive the eighty-one brothers. They came a few minutes later, resplendent in the magnificent clothes they had put on in the princess's honor. Indeed, they all looked so handsome that she found it hard to believe the story of their cruelty. While they were talking of their journey to her kingdom, however, some of the princes told how they had made sport of a little hare too stupid to know that salt was not the best thing for open wounds, and she noticed that the youngest brother was the only one who did not enjoy the story. At this, rage filled her gentle heart.

"'Turn out the eighty princes!' she cried to her attendants; 'no one who is cruel to so small a creature as a little hare is fit to rule over a kingdom. But with you,' she added, turning to the youngest prince, 'will I share my throne, for you are a wise and merciful man.'

"You may be sure the youngest prince was happy to hear that, for, after once seeing the beautiful princess, the thought of parting from her was like lead in his breast.

"So the cruel brothers were drummed out of the palace with shouts of scorn; but the gentle prince and princess went into the garden to thank the little hare. They could not find him, however, search as they would; for as soon as he learned of the success of his plan, he had hopped away to see the world, wiser for his day's experiences."

"Is that all?" Alice asked.

"That is all," Nurse answered. "And now it is time for you to go to bed."

By MARGARET JOHNSON

In flowery, fair Cathay, That kingdom far away, Where, odd as it seems, 't is always night when here we are having day, In the time of the great Ching-Wang, In the city of proud Shi-Bang, In the glorious golden days of old when sage and poet sang,

There lived a nobleman who Was known as the Prince Choo-Choo. (It was long before the Chinaman wore his beautiful silken queue.) A learned prince was he, As rich as a prince could be, And his house so gay had a grand gateway, and a wonderful roof, sky-blue.

His garden was bright with tints Of blossoming peach and quince, And a million flowers whose like has not been seen before or since; And set 'mid delicate odors Were cute little toy pagodas, That looked exactly as if you _might_ go in for ice-cream sodas!

A silver fountain played In a bowl of carven jade, And pink and white in a crystal pond the waterlilies swayed. But never a flower that grew In the garden of Prince Choo-Choo Was half so fair as his daughter there, the Princess Loo-lee Loo.

Each day she came and sat Oh her queer little bamboo mat. (And I hope she carried a doll or two, but I can't be sure of that!) She watched the fountain toss, And she gazed the bridge across, And she worked a bit of embroidery fine with a thread of silken floss.

She touched her wee guitar, The gift of her prince-papa, And she hummed a queer little Chinese tune with a Chinese tra-la-la! It was all that she had to do To keep her from feeling blue, For terribly lonely and dull sometimes was poor little Loo-lee Loo.

Her father had kites to fly Far up in the free blue sky (For a Chinaman loves with this elegant sport his leisure to occupy); And what with his drums and gongs, And his numerous loud ding-dongs, He could have any day, in a princely way, a regular Fourth of July.

Her mother, the fair Su-See, Was as busy as she could be, Though she never went out, except, perhaps, to a neighboring afternoon tea; She was young herself, as yet, And the minutes that she could get She spent in studying up the rules of Elegant Etiquette.

So the princess nibbled her plums, And twirled her dear little thumbs, And lent sometimes a wistful ear to the beating of distant drums; Until one April day-- _Tsing Ming_, as they would say-- She saw at the gate a sight that straight took Loo-lee's breath away.

Two dimples, soft and meek, In a brown little baby cheek, Two dear little eyes that met her own in a ravishing glance oblique; A chubby hand thrust through The palings of bamboo-- A little Celestial, dropped, it seemed, straight out of the shining blue.

A playmate, a friend, a toy, A live little baby boy-- Conceive, if you can, in her lonely state, the Princess Loo-lee's joy! How, as fast as her feet could toddle (Her shoes were a Chinese model), She hurried him in, and almost turned his dear little wondering noddle.

"Oh, is it," she bent to say In her courteous Chinese way, "In my very contemptible garden, dear, your illustrious wish to play?" And when he nodded his head She knew that he would have said, "My insignificant feet are proud your honored estate to tread!"

Oh, then, but the garden rang With laughter and joy--ting, tang! There was never a happier spot that day in the realm of the great Ching-Wang! And oh, but it waned too soon, That golden afternoon, When the princess played with her Ray of the Sun, her darling Beam of the Moon!

For when the shadows crept Where the folded lilies slept, Out into the garden all at once the prince her father stepped, With a dignified air benign, And a smile on his features fine, And a perfectly gorgeous gown of silk embroidered with flower and vine.

A fan in his princely hand, Which he waved with a gesture bland (Instead of a gentleman's walking-stick it was carried, you understand), In splendor of girdle and shoe, In a glitter of gold and of blue, With the fair Su-See at his side came he, the lordly Prince Choo-Choo.

The princess bent her brow In a truly celestial bow, Saluted her father with filial grace, and made him the grand kotow. (For every child that's bright Knows well the rule that's right, That to knock your head on the ground nine times is the way to be polite.)

"And, pray, what have we here?" In language kind though queer The prince observed. "It looks to me like a little boy, my dear!" "Why, that's what it is!" in glee The princess cried. "Fing-Wee-- Most Perfectly Peerless Prince-Papa, a dear little brother for me!"

Loud laughed the Prince Choo-Choo, And I fancy he said "Pooh-pooh!" (That sounds very much like a Chinese word, and expresses his feelings, too!) And the fair Su-See leaned low. "My Bud of the Rose, you know If little Fing-Wee our son should be, your honors to him must go!"

But the princess's eyes were wet, For her dear little heart was set On having her way till she quite forgot her daughterly etiquette. "Oh, what do I care!" she said. "If he only may stay," she plead, "I will give him the half of my bowl of rice and all of my fish and bread!"

"Dear, dear!" said the Prince Choo-Choo, "Now here is a how-do-you-do! Is there nothing, O Jasmine-Flower, instead? A parasol pink or blue? A beautiful big balloon?" But she wept to the same old tune, "I'd rather have little Fing-Wee, papa, than anything under the moon!"

Then the prince he called for lights, And he called for the Book of Rites, And all of the classical literature that he loved to read o' nights; And he read till the dawn of day In his very remarkable way, From end to beginning, from bottom to top, as only a Chinaman may.

"My father adopted a son, His father the same had done; Some thousands of years ago, it appears, the custom was thus begun." He stopped for a pinch of snuff; His logic was sound, though tough; You may rightfully follow what plan you please, if it's only antique enough!

"A son," he thoughtfully said, "To serve me with rice and bread; To burn the paper above my grave and honor my aged head! Oh, try me the tortoise sign With a tortoise of ancient line: If he turns his toes straight in as he goes, the boy is certainly mine!"

Oho! but the garden rang On that wonderful night--ting, tang! When a banquet meet was served the elite of the city of proud Shi-Bang! And all who passed that way Might read in letters gay As long as your arm: "The Prince Choo-Choo adopts a son to-day!"

There was knocking of heads galore; There were trumpets and drums a score; The gay pavilions were lit with millions of lamps from ceiling to floor. And oh, but the chop-sticks flew In the palace of Prince Choo-Choo, And the gifts that were brought for the little Fing-Wee would fill me a chapter or two.

But with never a single toy, The princess cried for joy, Nor cared she a jot that they all forgot it was she who had found the boy! Her dear little heart it sang Like a bird in her breast--ting, tang! There was never a happier child that night in the realm of the great Ching-Wang!

And her mother, the fair Su-See, She looked at the little Fing-Wee-- There were mothers in China some thousands of years before you were born, trust me! She looked at the children two, And down in the dusk and the dew, With a tender mist in her eyes she kissed the Princess Loo-lee Loo!

THE CURIOUS CASE OF AH-TOP

(_A Chinese Legend_)

The slant-eyed maidens, when they spied The cue of Ah-Top, gaily cried, "It is some mandarin!" The street-boys followed in a crowd; No wonder that Ah-Top was proud And wore a conscious grin!

But one day Ah-Top's heart grew sad. "My fate," he said, "is quite too bad! My cue will hang behind me. While others may its beauty know, To me there's naught its grace to show, And nothing to remind me."

At length he hit upon a plan, Exclaiming, "I'm a clever man! I know what I will do: I'll simply wheel myself around, And then the pigtail will be found Where I can see it, too."

He spun himself upon his toes, He almost fell upon his nose, He grew red in the face. But when Ah-Top could whirl no more, He found the pigtail as before, Resolved to keep its place.

"A'ha!" he cried, "I turned too slow. Next time, you see, I'll faster go. Besides, I stopped too soon. Now for a good one! Ah, but stay-- I'll turn myself the other way!" He looked like a balloon!

So fast he whirled, his cue flew out And carried Ah-Top round about. An awful moment came-- The helpless spinner could not stop! The poor man had become a top! This gave the toy its name.

THE JACKAL AND THE CAMEL

_A Hindu Tale_

The Jackal stood looking across the river where the crabs lay in the sun on the sand.

"Oh," said the Jackal, "if I could only swim, how good those crabs would be! I wish I had a boat or a canoe!"

Just then the Camel came out of the woods. "Now," said the Jackal, "if I can only get the Camel to take me across the river! I can ride high up on his hump, and it will be just as good as a boat."

"Good morning, friend," said the Jackal to the Camel. "Are you hungry? I know a place where the sugar cane grows higher and sweeter than anywhere else."

"Where? Where?" cried the Camel. "Tell me, and I will go there at once."

"I could take you to the place," said the Jackal, "but it is across the river, and I cannot swim."

"Oh," said the Camel, "that is all right. Get up on my back and I will take you across, and you can show me where the sugar cane is."

"All right," said the Jackal, "and I will look along the bank of the river and see if I can find any fat crabs on that side."

"Jump up quickly," said the Camel, "it makes me hungry just to think of sugar cane."

So the Jackal jumped up on the Camel's back, and the Camel swam across the river, and the Jackal did not get the least bit wet, even the tip of his tail. (The Jackal does not like to get even the tip of his tail wet.)

When they were across the river the Camel went off to the patch of sugar cane, and the Jackal ate the crabs which lay out in the sun on the sand. It was not long until he had eaten as many crabs as he could, and wanted to go back to the other side of the river. So he went to where the Camel stood in the cane patch.

"Why, have you finished your crabs?" asked the Camel.

"Yes. I cannot eat another one. Let us go back."

"Oh," said the Camel, "I have hardly begun to eat yet."

"Very well," said the Jackal, "I will go out to the edge of the patch and lie down and wait for you."

But the Jackal did not lie down. He was in a hurry to go home, now that he had eaten all the crabs he wanted. So he said: "I do not want to wait here. I know a little song I can sing that will make that Camel hurry."

So he began to sing. Of course, the Camel did not pay any attention, but the farmer heard, as the Jackal knew he would, and came running out with sticks to chase the Jackal. But the Jackal hid in the high cane, and the farmer could not find him. He did find the Camel, however, and called to his boys, and they beat the Camel with sticks and drove him out of the cane.

When the farmer and his boys had gone, the Jackal came out of the cane and found the Camel lying on the sand bruised with the beating he had gotten.

"Oh, friend," he exclaimed, "where have you been? I have been hunting for you in the cane."

"Do not call me friend," said the Camel. "Why did you sing that song that made the farmer come out and beat me?"

"Oh," said the Jackal, "did the farmer come out and beat you? That is too bad. But I always sing a song after dinner."

"Ah, do you?" said the Camel. "I did not know that. Very well. Let us go home. Climb up while I am lying down."

So the Jackal climbed upon the Camel's back, and he entered the water and began to swim across the river, the Jackal riding high on the hump of the camel so as not to get wet, even to the tip of his tail.

When they were about the middle of the stream the Camel said: "I believe that I shall roll over."

"Do not do that," exclaimed the Jackal, "for I shall get wet and be drowned."

"Maybe you will," said the Camel; "but you see I always roll over after dinner."

So he rolled over in the water, and the Jackal got wet--first the tip of his tail, and then all over, and was drowned.

HASHNU THE STONECUTTER

_A Japanese Story_

Hashnu the Stonecutter sat beside the highway cutting stone. It was hard work, and the sun shone hot upon him.

"Ah me!" said Hashnu, "if one only did not have to work all day. I would that I could sit and rest, and not have to ply this heavy mallet.

Just then there was a great commotion, and Hashnu saw a crowd of people coming up the road. When they drew nearer he noticed that one of them was the King. On his right side rode soldiers, all arrayed in armor and ready to do his bidding, while on the left rode courtiers, seeking to serve him and win his favor.

And Hashnu, watching, thought what a fine thing it would be to be a King, and to have soldiers to do his bidding, and courtiers to serve him, and he said:

"Ah me, ah me, If Hashnu only a King could be."

At once he heard a voice say: "Be thou the King."

Then in a moment Hashnu found that he was no longer the stonecutter, sitting beside the highway with a heavy mallet in his hand, but the King, dressed in armor, riding in the midst of soldiers and courtiers, and all about him doing homage.

He rode very proudly for a while, and his subjects bowed low before him. But the armor was heavy, and the helmet pressed hard upon his brow, and his head throbbed with the weight of it. He was indeed weary and faint with the heat, because, though a King, the sun beat hot upon him!

And he said to himself: "Lo, I am the King, and yet the sun can make me faint and weary. I had thought that to be a King was to be stronger than anything else, but the sun is stronger than the King!"

And as they rode further, and the sun still beat hard upon him, he said:

"Ah me, ah me, If Hashnu only the sun could be!"

Then he heard a voice say: "Be thou the sun."

And in a moment he was no longer the King, riding among his courtiers, but the sun, blazing high in the heavens, shining hot upon the fields and the meadows. As he did not know how to shine, he allowed his rays to fall too fiercely upon the world, and grass and grain were dried up and withered, and men lamented because of the cruelty of the heat. But Hashnu thought he was doing great things, and was very proud, until a cloud came between him and the earth, so that his rays no longer fell upon the fields and the cities of men.

And Hashnu said: "Lo, I am the sun, and my rays fell upon the fields and the cities, and all acknowledge my power. But the cloud is stronger than the sun, for it shuts off my rays from the earth."

Then, because the cloud would not go, but became heavier and blacker, Hashnu lamented, and said:

"Ah me, ah me, If Hashnu only the cloud could be."

And in a moment he was no longer the sun, shining fiercely upon the earth, but the cloud, riding in the sky, shutting off the rays of the sun, and pouring rain upon the fields and the meadows, filling the rivers and the streams to overflowing. But he did not know how to let down the rain wisely, and it fell too heavily, and the rivers rose high and destroyed the fields and the cities, and the meadows were turned into swamps, and the grain rotted in the ground, and the wind blew, and trees were uprooted, and houses fell before it. But Hashnu cared for none of these things, for he thought he was doing very finely indeed.

But as he looked down upon the earth he saw that a rock beside the highway stood unmoved and firm, for all of his raining and blowing. And he said: "For all I am strong, and can blow down trees and destroy cities, and can pour my waters upon the earth and flood the fields and the meadows, yet does that rock defy my power. I, Hashnu, would be stronger than the rock!"

But the rock was unchanged, and Hashnu, lamenting, said:

"Ah me, ah me, If Hashnu only the rock could be!"

Then he heard a voice say: "Be thou the rock."

And in a moment he was no longer the cloud, with the wind blowing hard, and pouring water upon the earth, but the rock, fixed and unmoved beside the highway. Now, at last, he felt that he was stronger than all. But even as he rejoiced, he felt the sharp point of a stonecutter's chisel, and heard the sound of his heavy mallet striking upon its head. Then he knew that, though the water had fallen upon the rock and been unable to change it, and the wind had blown hard against it and had no effect, yet would the stonecutter change and alter it, and make it take whatever shape he desired. And he said:

"Ah me, ah me, If Hashnu only the stonecutter could be!"

And he heard a voice say: "Be thou thyself."

Then Hashnu found himself again sitting beside the highway with a chisel in his hand, and a mallet on the ground beside him, and the rock before him. And the King had gone by, and the rays of the sun were now shadowed by the cloud, from which no rain fell, but only a grateful shade. And Hashnu said:

"The sun was stronger than the King, the cloud was stronger than the sun, the rock was stronger than the cloud, but I, Hashnu, am stronger than all."

And so he worked on, now well content to do each day his added task.

THE TIGER, THE BRAHMAN, AND THE JACKAL[N]

Once upon a time a Tiger was caught in a trap. He tried in vain to get out through the bars, and rolled and bit with rage and grief when he failed.

By chance a poor Brahman came by. "Let me out of this cage, oh, pious one!" cried the Tiger.

"Nay, my friend," replied the Brahman, mildly; "you would probably eat me if I did."

"Not at all!" declared the Tiger; "on the contrary, I should be forever grateful, and serve you as a slave!"

Now, when the Tiger sobbed, and sighed, and wept, and swore, the pious Brahman's heart softened; and at last he consented to open the door of the cage. Out popped the Tiger, and, seizing the poor man, cried: "What a fool you are! What is to prevent my eating you now, for after being cooped up so long I am just terribly hungry!"

In vain the Brahman pleaded for his life; the most he could gain was a promise to abide by the decision of the first three things he chose to question as to the justice of the Tiger's action.

So the Brahman asked first a Pipal Tree what it thought of the matter; but the Pipal Tree replied coldly: "What have you to complain about? Don't I give shade and shelter to every one who passes by, and don't they in return tear down my branches to feed their cattle? Don't whimper--be a man!"