Part 1

LITTLE ALMOND BLOSSOMS

LITTLE ALMOND BLOSSOMS

A Book of Chinese Stories for Children

BY JESSIE JULIET KNOX

_With Illustrations from Photographs of Chinese Children in California_

BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 1907

_Copyright, 1904_, BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.

_All rights reserved_

Published October, 1904

Printers S. J. PARKHILL & CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.

_This Book is lovingly Dedicated to MY MOTHER_

_CONTENTS_

PAGE

In the Land of the Dragon 3

Two Little Chinese Sisters 15

The Little Highbinder 27

How Ah Chee found Santa Claus 39

The Moon Rabbit 65

How Santa Claus came to Suey Hip 93

The Easter Dream of Mun Chee 109

Ping Pong and Ping Yet 131

The Little Almond Blossom 153

The Christmas of Gum Ching 163

Ho Chin’s Fourth of July 173

The Little Fisher-Maiden 189

The Finding of Sing Ho 207

The Slave-Girl’s Thanksgiving 233

_LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS_

PAGE

A Little Almond Blossom _Frontispiece_

“Oh, what a dreadful monster” 5

“The Chinese children all marched to the music in a row” 7

“Everybody giggled all the time, in their funny little Chinese way” 9

“She brought forth from the flute the most wonderful sounds” 17

“It was the old nurse, Suey” 22

“‘Where are you going, little one?’” 50

“Little Priest” 65

“She and one of her sisters were on the step in front of their home” 67

“Suey Hip was very much dressed up” 99

“She sometimes longed to get out, she and her two little brothers” 109

“There was a big bouquet for Ping Pong” 147

“Through the narrow streets” 177

“Two of his little friends, with their queer little Chinese caps on” 208

“His own beautiful _mo chun_” 227

_IN THE LAND OF THE DRAGON_

_Little Almond Blossoms_

_IN THE LAND OF THE DRAGON_

Chung Goy ran as fast as his little sandals would permit, up the narrow flight of steps which led to the Chinese restaurant, and out on the balcony, where a crowd of Chinamen were watching for the great Procession of the Dragon. His little legs were encased in pale green silk trousers tied at the ankles, and his lavender _shom_ (blouse) gleamed in the light of the many dragon lanterns which were swaying in the night breeze. His hair was in a long queue, and on his head he wore the little round black cap of the Chinese, with a button on top.

Chung Goy was so afraid he would miss seeing the dragon. He had never seen it as yet, for he was not so very old, and now that the long-expected moment had come he fairly trembled with excitement.

His _ho chun_ (father) was on this balcony, which was near their home, and he hurried to nestle up to him, as it was cold, and the wind was always blowing in San Francisco.

It seemed as if the procession would never come; he grew tired watching so many people pass, and perhaps the fumes of the opium his father was smoking got into his brain; but, at any rate, the first thing he

knew he saw a great squirming thing approaching him.

It was spitting fire from its eyes and mouth, and at first he felt afraid. Oh, what a dreadful monster! it would surely devour him. He heard himself saying: “Velly bad snake--I no likee; go ’way! I ’flaid.” And then he heard a voice like the muttering of thunder, and the voice came out of the dragon’s mouth, and it was saying in the Chinese language: “_Samen jai_ (little boy), I have come to take you to Dragon Land. Slip away from _ho chun_, and fly with me.”

“Oh, no!” gasped the trembling boy, “I velly much ’flaid the big dlagon eat me up.” And then the dragon spoke again, but this time his voice was as soft and sweet as music, and the fire no longer came from his eyes and mouth. He had such a kind look on his face too, and spoke in such a persuasive tone, that little Chung Goy ceased to be afraid, and slipping from his father’s arms he ran down the narrow steps again, and out into the street, climbing up on the big dragon’s back. He saw lots of other Chinese boys he knew, doing the same thing. He held on tightly, for the dragon went in such a squirming way that he was afraid he would fall off, and he held on to his little silk cap, too, as the dragon’s speed increased, for it was his best one, and he did not want to lose it.

Oh, this was jolly! He had never thought he would ever ride on a dragon’s back. What a lot he would have to tell his _mo chun_ (mother)

when he reached home. It was a good thing _mo chun_ did not know it now, he thought, or she would be “velly much ’flaid.”

After squirming through all sorts of queer countries, the big dragon stopped so suddenly that they all fell off his back, and down his slippery sides. Chung Goy rubbed his eyes and looked around him. Oh, how funny! There were just thousands of dragons of all sizes, and this beautiful place was their home. They all had such kind faces, and spoke in such a gentle way, that no one could feel afraid. There were great groves of trees, all full of the tiny Chinese mandarin orange. Chung Goy just loved those “ollanges,” but he had never before picked them from a tree, as his _ho chun_ had bought them from the street-stands in Chinatown. There were trees of _lichee_ (nuts), and long tables just filled with Chinese candy, delicious preserved ginger, watermelon seed, and all those good things so dear to a boy’s heart.

It was night, but the trees were so full of the great dragon lanterns that it made it almost as light as day, and there were no dark corners anywhere. There was a dragon orchestra under one of the trees, playing the loveliest Chinese music. The shrill piping of the flageolets and the beating of the “tom-toms” were indeed beautiful to the ears of Chung Goy and his friends. It looked too funny for anything to see dragons holding the different instruments with their claws. The Chinese children all marched to

the music in a row, holding each other by the queue.

Chung Goy had never had so much fun in all his little life as he was having now. Just as he was beginning to feel hungry there appeared before his gaze a very long table, just filled with everything a child could possibly want, and all served by cunning little dragons. There were such dainty little China cups without handles, and in them the most delicious _chah_ (tea).

Everybody giggled all the time, in their funny little Chinese way, and no one told them to stop.

While they were sitting at the table the dragons brought them each a big basket of fireworks. Now a Chinese child is even more fond of fireworks than an American child, and so they all kicked up their little sandals with delight, and after each one had been given a lighted Chinese punk, they began to pop them, and oh, what fun it was! There was a delightful noise, with so much popping, and the odor of the punks was most pleasant to their little Chinese noses. It really seemed as if the more they popped, the more they had left in their baskets.

Finally, the big King of the dragons said he must take them home now, or he would not be back in time for the parade, and it would never do to disappoint the people. So each one was allowed to keep his basket, and they squirmed away again, until at last they entered the narrow streets of Chinatown, with its rows of dragon lanterns, and its odor of incense everywhere. Once more Chung Goy climbed the narrow steps, and crept into the arms of _ho chun_, who had not noticed his absence, and he arrived just in time, for just then there was a great noise of “tom-toms,” and crowds shouting.

The streets were aglare with a strange red light, and looking down he saw the familiar form of the King Dragon, which was spitting fire from its eyes and mouth; but this time little Chung Goy did not feel afraid, for he knew--he knew.

_TWO LITTLE CHINESE SISTERS_

One day during the Chinese New Year, when the sea breezes blew softly through the narrow, blossom-lined streets of Chinatown, and swayed the great red dragon lanterns to and fro, Poon Chew and her little sister, Poon Yet, decided that they would take a walk through the streets, and have a look at all the beautiful things displayed in the windows. Their _mo chun_ had dressed them up in their very best silken robes,--robes she had made for this very week,--and they made a pretty picture as they started out under their gay umbrella. Their blouses were of pink silk, and their trousers of pale lavender. They wore gay head-dresses, and were indeed beautiful to look upon. They would never have started out alone if the little _mo chun_ had not been so busy making the great New Year cake, which was to be served with tea to her guests of the New Year.

“Let’s go see Sai Gee,” said Poon Chew.

“All light,” replied the little sister.

Sai Gee, a little-footed playmate of theirs, lived just a few doors from them, and they had no difficulty in finding her home. Sai Gee was also dressed up in her gayest attire, but her feet were too small to find much enjoyment in running around with the children whose feet were of the ordinary size. But she could

entertain them, anyway, for Sai Gee could play the flute.

It was really wonderful. She sat upon a stool, over which an embroidered robe had been thrown, and played to them. Her hair was done in a coil back of her right ear, and her little brown face was sweet and wistful as she brought forth from the flute the most wonderful sounds. Sai Gee’s father was very wealthy, and so the little one had everything that money could buy. Poon Chew made up her mind right then that she would ask her father to buy her a flute. Then Sai Gee brought forth some tiny cakes, made of powdered nuts, and some tea, and preserved watermelon; and for each of the little sisters a big slice of New Year’s cake.

“My! but we have good time. I likee make New Yeah call, like _mo chun_--we go now; good-by,” said Poon Chew.

“Let’s look in window,” the big sister said; and of course the little one, having perfect confidence in Poon Chew, gladly followed, the soft little hand clasped in that of the sister. Oh, the wonderful things they saw! The streets looked like a garden, with the rows of almond blossoms and China lilies, and on every balcony swung in rows the immense dragon lanterns.

They stopped awhile--they thought it only a few minutes--to watch some boys playing a New Year’s game, and then passed on by the stores, where the smell of the good things made them very hungry.

“Oh, how nice the loast pohk (roast pork) smell! I velly hungly,--we go home pletty soon,” said the older sister.

“Yes, we go home pletty soon,” echoed Poon Yet.

The little feet were growing tired, for they had never before been on the streets alone, and they wanted to get all the pleasure they could out of it. How they did wish they had brought some money, as they looked longingly at the great heaps of candied cocoanut and ginger on the street-stands. Their eyes must have said so, for just as they were gazing at the dainties with longing eyes a richly-dressed Chinaman came by, and the first thing they knew he was saying: “You likee candy, _ne jai_?” (little girl).

It startled them at first, but when they looked up and saw what a kind face the man had, they did not feel afraid, but replied: “Yes--we velly hungly--we no bling money; we catch ’em plenty money at home.”

The man laughed good-naturedly, and having bought them a large package of candy, started on. After they had eaten some of it they noticed the growing darkness. Could it be possible that night was coming on? They had not thought of that; it had seemed so bright when they started, and it did not seem as if they could have been gone long.

Meanwhile, what of the little brown mother at home?

When she finished her cake she called her children. She had made a little cake just for them, and she wanted them to come and eat it.

“Poon Chew! Poon Yet!” she called; but no sound came back through the silence.

“Little one--_ne jai_, come to _mo chun_!” No reply.

With wildly beating heart she rushed through the tiny rooms and out to the narrow pavement. She hailed a passing policeman, and in faltering Chinese told him that her little ones were lost, described the pretty clothes they wore, and all the while her heart was wrung with a nameless fear. What would life be without the soft little arms about her neck?--the patter of the little sandalled feet?--the sound of the shrill little voices at play?

This policeman told others, and they were all searching for the two children, who were out making New Year’s calls.

And it grew darker. Poon Chew trembled, as she realized that they were lost. She did not know which way to turn. Some men were lighting the big dragon lanterns on the balcony opposite, so it was really night.

“Oh, little sister, we are lost! I forget; I no ’member the way home. What will we do?” she moaned. She had no idea what direction her home was in, and her eyes were filled with tears; but now through the tears she saw some one approaching. It was--oh, joy! the old nurse Suey, leading the richly dressed little Sai Chong, brother of Sai Gee.

She was greatly surprised when she saw the children so far from home,

and they clung to her neck, weeping and laughing by turns. “Take us home--take us home;” they cried. They had walked so far and were so tired that she got a Chinaman who was standing by to take them all home in his wagon. When they arrived, they found the little _mo chun_ in the greatest distress. She was very much astonished as she saw them all tumble out of the covered wagon, and they all cried and laughed, and never did the little mother receive so many kisses; and four little brown arms clasped her neck all at once, and the little sisters were so very sorry to have been so naughty that they said:

“_Mo chun_, beautiful cherry blossom--we neveh, neveh make New Yeah calls again without you.”

_THE LITTLE HIGHBINDER_

It was the one desire of little Sing Lee to be a highbinder. It must be a fine thing, for his father was one, and so it must be good. It was true he did not have a very definite idea of just what it meant to be one, but he knew this: his father belonged to the Hip Sing Tongs, an order of highbinders in San Francisco, and they were men who kept their promises. At night as he lay on his hard bamboo couch, with the fumes of opium thick around him, he could hear _ho chun_ talking in a low tone to a crowd of men, who were all of the same order of highbinders as his father. “There is Chong Sing,” they were saying; “he has told some of our secrets to a white devil, and he must die; the joss frowns upon him.”

This sounded very discouraging for Chong Sing, and little Sing Lee felt sorry for a moment, for he remembered that one day this same Chong Sing had spoken kindly, and had given him a three-cornered package of _lichee_ (nuts) and candy. He could even yet taste the delicious strips of candied cocoanut, and the dainty citron. Chong Sing had said he would bring him some more another time, and now--he was to die. If he died, perhaps no one else would bring candy or speak a kind word.

Little Sing Lee lay trembling in his bed as they planned the murder of his friend. What could he do? He was only a little boy, and--he had thought to be a highbinder when he was a big man like _ho chun_; and if he was going to be one, he must conquer all tenderness of heart,--and yet, this man had been kind to him, and it might be that he had little boys of his own at home.

“If I was a highbinder,” he said to himself, “I no kill nice men who bling children candy; I kill bad men.”

Next day he confided his thoughts to _mo chun_, but she replied: “No! no! my little boy. No use--Hip Sing Tongs heap big--heap stlong (strong). They no care if Chong Sing give _lichee_; they kill him, allee samee.” But little Sing Lee did not forget. He still thought, however, that it must be a fine thing to be a highbinder, if only one just killed the bad men--men who did not give candy to lonely little children and speak kind words to them. So that very day he went around through Chinatown and organized a society of highbinders among his boy friends.

He succeeded in getting four other boys to join, and they all took their oaths very solemnly. Now that they were really highbinders they must begin to kill somebody. Not ever having killed anybody, they did not know how to go about it, or on whom to begin.

_Mo chun_ noticed the boys carrying on a great deal of private conversation, and she wondered what it could be; so that night, after Sing Lee had burned his punks before the god, and had eaten his bowl of rice with chopsticks, she said to him: “What for you allee time whisper? You no eat--you no sleep; tell me! what you think?”

_Mo chun_ was such a dear little brown mother, and he loved her so, that when she looked at him with her slanting velvet eyes, and asked him to tell her, he just had to, that was all. He was not afraid of her, for Chinese mothers do not punish their children, and anyway--the secret was too good to keep, so why not tell her? She never laughed at him like _ho chun_. So he crept close up against the warmth of her silken blouse--he could feel her tender mother heart beating beneath it--and he gazed at the polished hair and the pretty mouth as he talked.

“_Mo chun_--I likee be like big man--like _ho chun_. I get boys togeddeh; we be highbinders, allee samee _ho chun_.

“_Ho chun_ velly fine man; he kill heap of people; I likee do that, but, _mo chun_, my beautiful blossom, I no likee _ho chun_ to kill Chong Sing; he heap good--he bling me candy.”

“What you mean, little boy? How you _sabe_ (know) _ho chun_ kill Chong Sing? Speak!--tell me!”

“Oh, _mo chun_ of mine, I no sleep at night; I no can help--I hear _ho chun_ say Chong Sing must die. I velly solly; he heap good man--I likee.”

_Mo chun_ was sorry too, for she knew him to be a good man, but she knew there was no use to say anything. If they had decided upon his death there was nothing to be said.

The next day Sing Lee set forth with his little band of highbinders to find some one to kill. _Mo chun_ had said: “You must not really kill them, you _sabe_, just pletend kill.”

Suddenly, as they marched on, a bright thought struck little Sing Lee. “Suppose I tell Chong Sing?--he live near--I know the way, and--he was kind to me.”

He then confided his secret to his trusty men, and they marched on, through the narrow streets, till they came to the home of the good Chong Sing--the man who was to be killed.

It was dark and gloomy where Chong Sing lived, and his two little children, trudging homeward through the narrow alley-way, arrived at the door just before the little highbinders. Sing Lee could see their _ho chun_ as he greeted them, and they clasped their little arms about his neck, while he gazed at them with love in his eyes--and yet--he must die.

Sing Lee’s mind was made up. He marched boldly to the door, and stood under the big Chinese letters which meant happiness to all who should enter there, and he could even smell the incense ever kept burning for the god,--the god who had given no warning to Chong Sing. With a soft sound of sandalled feet the doomed man appeared at the door. His face was beaming with good nature. He carried his little girl in his arms, and by his side stood his son, a manly little fellow.

With his heart throbbing as if it would burst, Sing Lee advanced in front of his men, saying, “I am Sing Lee! You were kind to me once; these are my men--highbinders--” (at this Chong Sing smiled in a very amused way, but the smile was changed to something else when the boy went on) “I no forget you; I velly lonely--you bling me candy; you say good word to me, and now--I pay you back.

“No one know I come to tell you; the Hip Sing Tongs they say you must die. They say you tell seclets to white devil: I no know, I no care, but you good man; I likee save you. I want you to go ’way, acloss the water. You go quick!--I velly solly--good-by.”

The little highbinder did not kill any one that day; he was thinking of a pale, set face, and two little brown arms clasped about a father’s neck. Never mind! he would kill some one next week, or “to-mollow.” Some one who was bad--who did not bring candy.

There was great surprise among the Hip Sing Tongs when their victim was not to be found. Such a thing had never happened before, and they could account for it in no way.

Of course they did not think to ask the little mother or the embryo highbinder. And while they were wondering and searching, away over across the blue sea were the Chinese father and mother, and brown, happy children--safe.

_HOW AH CHEE FOUND SANTA CLAUS_

It was Christmas Eve. In the big Chinatown of San Francisco little Ah Chee and her brother Ah Gong were eagerly drinking in the words of the old Chinese story-teller as he sat on the streets and told stories for any one who cared to listen and to give him a few pennies. It was getting late, and the sea wind blew roughly through the narrow streets, and made the dear little Chinese noses so cold; but then Ah Chee did not mind, for the old man had been telling them the most wonderful tale,--something about Christmas--the ’Melican Clismas--and he had said something about it being a little Baby’s birthday, and that almost everybody in the world celebrated it. She pondered over it, in her vague little Chinese way, and thought it very queer that they should make such an ado about just a baby.

The old man did not understand it very well himself, but he remembered that when he used to be cook for an American family once, a long time ago, the children had hung up their stockings on this particular night, and had some kind of a tree with beautiful things on it. They called it a Christmas tree, he remembered, and how pleased he had been when there were found to be some packages for him on that same tree. They had told him then that Santa Claus had put them there, and he could never forget the thrill of surprise and pleasure he felt at the thought that this mysterious Santa Claus, whoever he might be, should have remembered him when he had never even seen him.