Part 3

They marched right up to where Kon Ying lay, and the most richly dressed one said: “Kon Ying, our queen has prepared a banquet for you; will your highness please to accept the invitation?”

Kon Ying was frightened at first, but something within her seemed to speak the words: “I shall be pleased to obey the commands of your queen;” and she made a curtsey to the royal messenger.

“Be prepared to go when the time comes!” he said, and vanished with his company.

By and by there was another glare of lights, and the sound of music. The lattice opened again, and there flitted in a crowd of the dearest little Chinese ladies, all clad in pink silk blouses, with lavender trousers, and pretty little golden sandals. They had so many diamonds in their hair and ears that it almost put out little Kon Ying’s eyes. They each carried a tiny Chinese lantern, which shed a soft light.

The most beautiful one now approached Kon Ying and said: “The queen has sent you a royal robe; please put it on, and we will hasten to the moon.”

Again the little girl gasped out: “Your highness’ commands shall be obeyed;” and slipping from her couch she stood shivering upon the floor, while the moon-maidens arrayed her in a robe of palest lavender.

“Our queen heard your prayer, and has sent us to carry you to her kingdom,” they said; and spreading out the wide Chinese sleeves of her gown until they looked just like wings, they told her to come, and away through the window she flew with them.

She felt as light as a feather, and could not resist the pleasure of making one real ugly face at the god as she passed. There stood on the street in front of the house a row of the dearest little sedan chairs, all glittering with gold, and carried by huge white rabbits. Before she could say a word they had opened the door for her, and placing her inside, flew away,--away from the squatty little god and the smell of incense, away from the great shining lanterns of the dragon, and the narrow, crooked streets, and into air that was so pure it seemed like a delicious nectar.

Kon Ying leaned from the window of her sedan chair and gazed at all the wondrous beauty of the sky. As they passed through the milky way some tiny star-fairies handed her a jewelled glass of the richest milk. She was very glad, for it seemed a long time since her supper of rice and tea. She was far away from the lights of the city now, and surrounded by the dazzling radiance of the stars. One very large star seemed to be the queen, and all the little stars bowed down before it, chanting the sweetest melody.

They were getting nearer and nearer the moon now, and, oh, how very large it was! To Kon Ying it had always seemed no larger than a small Chinese lantern, but now, as she came nearer, it seemed greater than the whole world. Soon she could see it no more, and the white rabbits told her that they were already in the moon. It was the most beautiful country. The velvet grass was covered with the sacred almond blossom petals, and their perfume was sweeter far than any incense. They passed through a long avenue of pure white chrysanthemums, which showered their petals upon them like snow. At the end of this avenue the chairs were stopped, and cunning little white-rabbit pages assisted them gently to the ground. A tender light flooded the place, and when Kon Ying raised her eyes she saw before her a throne, draped with the flags of the Imperial Court of China,--yellow silk, with blue dragons embroidered upon them,--and on the throne sat the queen,--the good moon rabbit who had heard her prayer.

This queen was busily engaged in pounding rice, pounding it into a powder, and then sending it down to earth, to be eaten during the Moon Festival and the China New Year. She wore a pink gauze dress all covered with glittering spangles, and as Kon Ying approached the queen was singing:

“The small-footed girl with the sweet little smile, She loves to eat sugar and sweets all the while; Her money’s all gone, and because she can’t buy, She holds her small feet while she sits down to cry.”

It sounded very pretty, as the queen had quite a sweet voice, and Kon Ying soon found herself singing it with all the others. The queen extended one soft white paw in greeting, but kept on pounding rice with the other.

All the dear little Chinese ladies and men now seated themselves around the throne. The white-rabbit pages handed each one a different musical instrument, and there burst forth the loveliest music that Kon Ying had ever heard. She found that she could play quite as well as any of them, which was a great surprise to her, as she had never before even touched a musical instrument.

After the music the queen ordered refreshments served, and they entered a bower of almond blossoms and China lilies, seating themselves at a long table, where they were served by a lot of tiny white-rabbit pages. They ate with ivory chopsticks set with diamonds. The queen sat at the head of the table, and could hold the chopsticks in her paws quite as well as any one. What a feast that was! Yet plenty of funny things happened, even if it was a royal company. The queen forgot herself, and stuck her nose right into a bowl of hot rice, at which there was a general giggle. A page quickly brought a finger-bowl and sponged the burnt nose, so it was all right.

There were all sorts of good Chinese things to eat,--delicious _chah_ (tea) in little handleless bowls, all kinds of pretty moon-cakes, little biscuit made of almond meal; watermelon seed, and many other things. When the feast was ended the queen said that each of them could make one wish, and it would be gratified. Kon Ying did not have to hesitate long over her wish.

She knew what she wanted more than anything in the world, and she remembered that she had prayed to the rabbit, so perhaps--perhaps--“Oh, dear queen!” she said at last in her piping little voice, “I be _so_ good if only--if only--I could have--a doll, like the one in the shop window; oh, if I could--if I could.”

Her eyes were full of tears as she finished, for it meant so much to her. The good moon rabbit replied: “You shall have your wish, little one, for you are a good child.”

Kon Ying now bade farewell to the queen and all the dear little Chinese people, and jumping into the sedan chair was soon whirling away once more, and in a short while found herself entering the window of her own home, and placing her tired body on the bed. When she awoke the next morning she remembered the queen’s promise, and--what was that on her bed, close beside her? A queer looking package, and on it, written in Chinese letters, “For good little Kon Ying, from the moon labbit.” Hastily tearing open the packet she saw disclosed--the DOLL! She fancied the god frowned when he saw it.

That night, when the narrow Chinese streets were gay with the many lanterns, and sweet with the fragrant almond blossom and lily, and the happy crowds were thronging the streets, the old highbinder passed the door. He smiled as he saw little Kon Ying seated in the doorway, holding the DOLL in her arms, and with rapture unspeakable in her childish eyes.

“Where you catch ’em?” he inquired in a jovial tone.

“Oh, I so happy,” she said. “I went to the moon last night, and the moon labbit _did_ bling me the DOLL.”

And the highbinder smiled.

_HOW SANTA CLAUS CAME TO SUEY HIP_

Suey Hip was a little Chinese girl. She did not have a bright, cheerful home, but lived in a cellar, with steps going down from the street. It was dark and smoky down there, but of course it did not seem so bad to Suey Hip as it would to those who have always had a nice home, because she had never known anything else.

Sometimes the children of a wealthy Chinese merchant would toddle by in their richly embroidered robes, and their feet were so small they could hardly walk. Suey Hip would sit on the top of the steps, and when she wished, play on the pavement in front of her home. And, oh, how she did long for some of those pretty garments! But her _mo chun_ worked very hard to get what she had by sewing for the Chinese stores, and there was no way to get anything more.

Now one day when Suey Hip sat on the step sunning herself, and looking with longing eyes at the people as they passed, there came a little American girl, walking with her papa through the streets. Suey Hip was very bashful, and hung her head, and scraped her little sandals on the pavement as they passed before her.

“Hello, little one,” said the man, in such a kind voice that Suey Hip looked up, and as she did so, caught sight of something in the little Dorothy’s arms that put her little motherly heart all in a glow, and she no longer felt afraid. What was it she saw? Why, just the loveliest big doll, with eyes that opened and shut, and it was dressed all in pink silk. Oh, the wonder and delight that sparkled in the dark eyes as she gazed. It seemed too beautiful to be anything but a dream, and she cried as she looked into the sweet face of little Dorothy: “Oh, what is it? Where you catch ’em?”

Dorothy laughed as she replied: “Why, this is my dollie; Santa Claus brought it to me last Christmas.”

“Sanny Claw? Who Sanny Claw?--what’s Clismas?” eagerly inquired the child.

“Don’t you know what Christmas is?” said Dorothy. “Why, Christmas is the loveliest time of all the year. It is then that we hang up our stockings, and in the night while we are asleep Santa Claus comes down the chimney, and fills our stockings with the loveliest things--dolls and toys and candy, and, oh--just everything.”

All this time Dorothy’s papa stood listening in amused silence, as he thought it best to let the children carry on their conversation in their own way.

“I wish I was you,” said Suey Hip. “Sanny Claw no come here; we no have Clismas; you think he ever come--bling me doll?”

Just then Dorothy’s papa spoke and said: “I tell you what to do. You get your mamma to write a note in Chinese to Santa, and we will come to-morrow and get the note and I will see that Santa Claus gets it. It is now just one month until Christmas, and who knows what may happen in that time?”

“You come again to-mollow?” eagerly inquired the child, and Dorothy said, “Yes--yes, we will, won’t we, papa?”

“Yes, dear, we will come again to-morrow.”

When they had passed out of sight along the narrow streets, Suey Hip toddled down the dark steps into the cellar she called home, and going to her mother, who sat sewing by a tiny latticed window, she exclaimed:

“Oh, _mo chun_! little ’Melican girl she say Sanny Claw come evvy yeah--bling doll--bling candy, toy, evvything. She say you lite note to Sanny Claw; tell him come bling me doll Clismas.”

After a great deal of explanation she made her little brown mother understand, and although she herself could not really believe that anything so nice could happen to her child, yet she had a mother’s tender heart, and was willing to do all the child asked of her. So she left her work, and went to a little table where there were some odd-looking writing materials, Suey Hip watching her eagerly all the while, and taking up a slender brush-stick, dipped it in an ink-like mixture, and began to make queer Chinese letters up and down the long slip of red paper. After much effort it was finished, and given to Suey Hip. She placed it carefully in a little

vase, and went out again to play on the streets.

She was so excited that night that she could hardly eat her supper of rice and tea and little sweetened cakes. She was almost too much excited to burn her incense before the little god in the corner, but she managed to get through with it, and was then put to bed. Next day at the same hour Suey Hip’s face had been scrubbed until it fairly shone, and her thick black hair was pasted down and braided into a long queue. She wore her best trousers and blouse of light blue silk, and little red sandals. Suey Hip was very much dressed up.

The shy little mother, who had also come out on the pavement to watch for the Americans, put her fan up to hide her face when she saw them coming, and quietly as a mouse slipped down the steps again. Suey Hip eagerly handed them the note which was to mean so much to her. Dorothy’s mama had come with them this time, and when she caught a glimpse of the timid little Chinese mother peeping eagerly up at them, she, with her kind woman’s heart, stepped down into the dark cellar, and stretched out both her white hands to meet the little brown hands of the mother who lived in a cellar.

She managed to make herself understood, and there was a good deal of low talking, and mysterious signs between the two mothers, but they understood, as mothers will; and papa pretended he did not see and hear. Dorothy told Suey Hip it was just a month until Christmas, and that would not be very long--just four little weeks, which would soon pass. Then Mrs. Suey shyly asked them to come in and have a cup of tea, which, served in the dearest little bowls, proved to be the best they had ever tasted.

After that there were a great many calls from Dorothy and her mama, and a great deal more of that mysterious whispering between the two mothers, until at last it was announced that the very next day would be Christmas. “Oh, too good--too good,” said Suey Hip, as she toddled around, too delighted to be quiet one minute.

It seemed as if the day would never pass, but after awhile the shadows began to fall on the narrow streets, and the big lanterns were lighted, and made everything beautiful; and Suey Hip knew that she was the only child in all the big Chinatown who would hang up her stocking that night.

The hour had come. She got out her very best pair of cream-colored stockings, and with trembling little fingers hung them securely to the foot of her couch, and was soon in the land of dreams. In the midst of her dream she awoke with a start. She wondered if he had been here yet. It was so dark, but oh--she felt as if she just couldn’t wait. But she knew _mo chun_ was tired, and she did not wish to awaken her, so she crept softly to the foot of the bed, and groped around in the dark, for her stockings. Once she almost fell off the bed, but finally her little hands found what she sought, and she felt the stockings.

They were all lumpy and fat,--what could be in them? In the top of one she felt something large--something with hands and feet and hair. Oh, joy! could it be? But she must wait and see.

Oh, how glad she was when she heard _mo chun_ moving, and saw the first glimmer of the day steal into their cellar home! With one bound she was out of bed, and _mo chun_ was as glad as she, for really and truly, in the dark night, the “‘Melican Sanny Claw” had by some means crept down there, and just filled her stockings with good things. The thing with hands and feet and hair was a real doll, with big blue eyes that opened and shut, and yellow hair and a blue silk dress. It had on the dearest little shoes and earrings, bracelets, a necklace, and a nice big hat.

Oh, how she hugged it to her heart, and could scarcely put it down long enough to see what else was there. Not only were the stockings full, but there were lovely things all around. There was the nicest little trunk for dollie, all full of pretty dresses and wraps, and there was doll furniture, and the daintiest set of doll dishes. It seemed to the poor little Chinese girl that she had everything in the world there was to have, and--what do you suppose? Poked in through the little latticed window they found a package, and on it the words--

“FOR MAMA SUEY, FROM SANTA CLAUS.”

When her trembling hands had eagerly opened it, what should she find but a whole lot of gold money? Oh, how happy she was! Now she would not have to work so hard, and strain her eyes at night by the dim candle. Now, they could have some pork whenever they wished, and they pictured all the happiness it would bring them. When Dorothy’s papa and mama came that day they found the happiest hearts in the whole big city, and when they saw the joy that had come into this little cellar home, they were glad that they had given the note to dear old “Sanny Claw.”

_THE EASTER DREAM OF MUN CHEE_

Mun Chee had a wonderful dream one night. Being a little Chinese aristocrat, she had never played just as the common people’s children play, and in her little heart she sometimes longed to get out, she and her two little brothers, and run wild through the narrow Chinese streets, and to be as free as the winds, just as the children of poor people might do; but she could not do this. So much was due to her station in life, as she was to be a Chinese lady some far-off day. So one night,--just the night before Easter,--after she had fallen asleep on her couch of bamboo, she dreamed a dream as beautiful as a poor child--a child of a coolie even might dream, for dreams are free to all, rich and poor. Perhaps it was because she had gone to sleep wondering if her house would be visited by the Easter rabbit, of which an American friend had told her; perhaps--but then, it does not matter what the reason was, for suddenly she felt some soft little taps on her eyelids, and a warm breath fanned her cheek, and opening her eyes she beheld the dearest, cunningest little rabbit--a white one, with bright pink eyes. It was perched on the edge of her bed, and had awakened her by tapping her Oriental eyelids with its soft white paws. It looked so gentle that she loved it right away, and said: “Who are you?”

It replied in a tiny voice: “If it please your highness, I am the queen of the Easter rabbits; I thought you might like to go with me for a little visit to my realm, the beautiful Easterland.”

“Oh, I likee go,” said Mun Chee. “It must be all light to visit a queen. Yes, yes, I will go, but how?”

“Trust to me, and you shall arrive safely; I will carry you on my back.”

“You? Why, you too small; I such a big girl; you no can cally me.”

“Wait and see!” said Queen Bunny, and with that she began to grow and grow and grow, right before Mun Chee’s astonished eyes, and pretty soon she was as big as a horse.

“Oh, how could you do it?” gasped the little Chinese girl.

“Because I am in league with the fairies, and have all power,” the queen said. “Jump on my back, if it please your ladyship, and we will hasten away.”

She jumped gracefully to the back of the rabbit, and clasped her plump arms tightly around its neck. They bounded up, up, until they were so high in the air that they could not see the world below.

“I neveh knew that labbits could fly,” said she.

“Well, all rabbits cannot fly,” said the queen, “only those of royal blood. There are rabbits and rabbits, you know, just as there are people and people. My sceptre is a white Easter lily, and whoever it touches is at once possessed of unlimited power.”

Now they came to the land of the birds, where they were fairly intoxicated with the beautiful music thrilling from the throats of these feathered songsters. Some of the trees were bright blue, and were filled with all kinds of blue birds; then a yellow tree, something like the acacia, was filled with canaries, making the air fairly alive with song. So they floated on, until the songs of the birds were but an echo.

Then came Candy-land. My! how good it smelled in this wonderful place--all pepper-minty and nice! and what a variety of trees there were--some big, big trees, just full of Chinese preserved ginger! and how Mun Chee did long to put her strong white teeth into some of it! Then there were trees so soft and white that they looked almost as if they were covered with snow; but it really was only white marsh-mallows. Then there were tiny Chinese fairies running all around, pulling bon-bons apart, and squealing with delight when they popped.

Then came Monkey-land, and this was the funniest of all, and even made a little Chinese girl laugh. Some of them were playing a game of base-ball with cocoanuts, and Mun Chee was all the time afraid one of them would get hit in the head; but they seemed to know just how to avoid that. Some of them ran up and asked her to stay to dinner with them, and then, when they thought she was not looking, they made such horrible faces at her that she was glad she had not accepted their invitation. After she had watched several games she hurried on again, looking back once, to see some of the monkeys throwing kisses at her and others making the ugliest faces. That might have been their way of being polite, though she really could not say, as she was not up in the etiquette of monkeys.

Next came the land of bears. There were all kinds,--black, brown, and white. She was scared at first, but the rabbit queen assured her they were harmless, and warranted not to hug. They were dancing some kind of a queer dance, and one silky white one, that looked just like a rug she had at home, came and asked if the little celestial aristocrat would honor him with the next dance. A look from the eyes of Queen Bunny told her she had better accept, and she did so, smiling graciously upon the bear. Around they went, in a giddy whirl, her queue flying in the wind, until it seemed to Mun Chee that everything was going around with them, and she panted: “If it’s just the same to you, I’d rather sit out the rest of this dance.”

“Certainly, your highness,” growled old bruin, and when she was seated he brought her a dish of sweetened snowballs, which were quite refreshing.

When she told them good-by this same bear could not resist the temptation of giving her just a teeny-weeny hug, but it didn’t hurt, and she was quite sure he meant it as a mark of especial favor.

Next came the land of cats. Each land had its queen, and here it was Queen Malta, an immense maltese cat with large, yellow eyes. Such a purring as they made when they saw Mun Chee and Queen Bunny approaching! It was not often they were honored by royalty. The queen approached them, walking on her hind legs, her long silky tail held by a page,--a tiny white kitten, dressed in gauze and spangles.

“In what way shall it please your gracious majesties to be entertained?” said Queen Malta; but to any one else it would have sounded like “Miaouw--miaouw--miaouw--”

Mun Chee replied: “I likee some music.”

Thereupon the queen tapped a silver bell, and there sprang lightly into view a perfect chorus of the most beautiful cats. After curtseying to the royal guests they began the music, and they sang the funniest songs imaginable. Mun Chee laughed till her little sides ached, but when she applauded, the noise scared away all the cats, and they scampered off, regardless of good manners. Queen Malta called them back, and explained matters, however, and the program was carried out without any further commotion. Mun Chee would like to have lingered for quite a while in each of these strange countries, but Queen Bunny told her it was approaching the hour when they were expected at the Easter castle, and so, after a few more swift turns through the air, they began to descend softly, softly, until faint strains of music fell upon their ears.

It was a triumphant march of welcome, and the notes rose glad and high. Soon Mun Chee felt her feet touch the soft grass, and unclasping her arms from about the rabbit’s neck, she stood and gazed about her in a perfect bewilderment of rapture. This was so different from any of the other countries; everywhere the eye rested upon the soft green tracery of leaves and trees, great beds of delicate fern, and flowers of every hue. Through an avenue of tall, waxen Easter lilies she was conducted by two tiny white rabbits, and as they walked, a glorious anthem sounded from all the great Easter lilies, and the golden clappers clanged musically against their satin whiteness.