Chapter 2

Some of the boys on their way to and from school made his only real annoyance. Sometimes when his smoothing-iron was moving silently under his loose-sleeved hand, or he was hanging the snowy clothes on the lines, they would hide behind a tree or corner, and shy sticks at him calling, "washee-washee-wang!" He bore it all in an unselfish temper, until one day a big lump of dirt fell upon one of little Lucy's dainty muslin frocks as he was ironing it. Then he said something that sounded like, "cockle-cockle-cockle," and closed all the doors and windows.

At this crisis Charles and Lucy came to his side. They set wide again the doors and windows of the cabin under the green boughs, and promised him that they would forever be his true friends and protectors. "It is time we began to treat him like a wang, as mother wished," said Lucy to Charlie.

"The American boys throw dirt at me in the street," admitted little Sky-High, in a reluctant tone--he did not like to bear witness against anyone in this sunshiny world.

"I will go out with you," said Charlie, "when you are sent out to do errands. I will stand between you and the dirt. The dirt comes out of their souls."

"And I will watch around the corners and speak to them," said Lucy.

Sky-High's heart bounded at these pledges of friendship, and he leaped about in a way that made the parrot laugh--sometimes he had the parrot in his cabin, and taught it Chinese words. "The sun shines for all, the earth blossoms for all," he said to the children; "it is only the heart that needs washee-washee and smoothee-smoothee. Everything will be better by and by. I talk flowery talk, like home, out here among the birds, butterflies, and bees."

(Nora said he "jabbered" all day long in the cabin.)

Mrs. Van Buren very soon promoted the careful little Chinaman to have all the care of the beautiful living rooms and the quaint old parlors. He brought the flowers and admitted the visitors. He did his work in admirable taste. It shed a kind of good influence through the house, to see the little fellow in his fine linens flitting around, so careful was he to keep all things in speckless order.

The chief drawback was that he still used "flowery talk"; to him the world was a field of poetry, and he spoke in figures whenever he forgot himself. Mrs. Van Buren was still Madam the Mandarin, and he called Lucy the "Lotus of the Shining Sea." He received many reprimands for the use of these Oriental forms of speech; but found it hard to harness his thoughts to track-horses, especially after the June days began to fill the gardens with orioles and humming-birds and roses.

"Why not _let_ me talk after nature?" little Sky-High used to beg.

One day the governor of the State came to visit the Van Burens. Sky-High spoke of him as the "Mandarin of the Golden Dome." He had several times been in Boston to see Consul Bradley, and knew the State House.

In the evening Mrs. Van Buren gave him his morning orders. "You will call the governor to-morrow at seven o'clock. You will knock on his door, and you must use plain language! You must not say, 'O Mandarin of the Golden Dome!' We do not use flowery terms of address in this country. Mind, Sky-High, use plain language."

The little Chinaman feared that he would be "flowery" in spite of all his care. So he consulted with Irish Nora in the blooming hours of the morning.

"What shall I say when I knock on the governor's chamber-door?" asked he earnestly. "What shall I say in the plain American language?"

"What shall you say? Say, 'Get up!'"

"Is that all?" asked he doubtfully.

"Well, if you want to say more, say, 'Get up! The world is all growing and crowing--the roosters are crowing their heads off!'"

Sky-High went to the door of the governor's room and knocked.

There came a voice from within. "Well?"

"Get up! The world is all growing and crowing,--the roosters are crowing their heads off."

The "Mandarin of the Golden Dome" did not wait for a second summons, but got up even as Sky-High had bidden him. It was a June morning, and he found the world as he had been warned, "all growing and crowing."

"Have you called the governor?" asked Mrs. Van Buren, as she met Sky-High on the stairs.

"Yes, my Lady of the Beautiful Morning."

"Did you use plain language?"

"Sky-High used the American language."

"What did you say?"

"I said, 'Get up!'"

"Oh, Sky-High, now I will have to apologize for you!"

"We never use plain language to mandarins in China," said Sky-High. "If we did, 'whish, whish,' and our heads would be off before we could turn!"

The Mandarin of the Golden Dome came down from the chamber; and the Lady of the Beautiful Morning explained to him that her new boy had not yet mastered the arts of American manners, although he intended to be correct when addressing his superiors.

"I didn't notice anything whatever incorrect," said the governor, who had hugely enjoyed the manner of his summons. "He awoke me--what more was needed?"

V.

SKY-HIGH'S WONDER-TALE.

"My Lady of the Beautiful Morning" believed in the education of story-telling; and she did not limit her stories wholly to tales with "morals," but told those that awakened the imagination. This she did for Lucy's sake and Charlie's, believing that all little people should pass through fairyland once in their lives.

She used, like Queen Scheherazade of the Arabian Nights, to gather up stories that pictured places, habits, and manners of the people, to relate; and this year, when the garden began to flower, she had many such to tell under the trees. Sky-High was always a listener. He was always permitted to be with the family in the evening. He loved wonder-tales. They carried him off as on an "enchanted carpet."

One evening Mrs. Van Buren said, "I have a new idea. Sky-High might tell _us_ some stories. He speaks English well when he chooses. Sky-High, tell us some tale of your own country. You have wonder-tales in China."

"In the stories of my country animals talk," said Sky-High.

"Tell us some of your stories in which animals talk," said Lucy, clapping her hands.

"Animals always talk, everywhere," said Sky-High. "In China we interpret what they say."

The word "interpret" was rather a big one for Lucy. But as Sky-High was given to using unexpected words, the little girl was herself beginning to indulge in a larger vocabulary.

So Sky-High began to relate an old Chinese household story.

THE SELF-RESPECTING DONKEY.

There was once a Donkey who had great respect for himself, as many people do. Such wear good clothes. You may know what a man thinks of himself by the clothes he wears. We Chinese moralize in our stories as we go along. We tell _think_-tales.

One day the Self-respecting Donkey went out into some green meadows near a wood, and was eating grass when a Tiger appeared on the verge of the meadow. The Self-respecting Donkey was very much surprised, but did not lose his dignity. So he uttered a deep bray.

"Br-a-a-a!"

The Tiger, in his turn, was very much surprised--for the Donkey's voice seemed to penetrate the earth. But as soon as he collected his wits he crouched as if to spring upon the Donkey and make a meal of him.

The Self-respecting Donkey did not run. He moved with a slow, firm, and kingly step toward the Tiger. Then he dropped his head again, in such a way that his ears looked like great proclamations of wisdom and power.

"Br-a-a-a!"

His voice was truly terrible. The Tiger again quailed.

"Oh, Beast of the Voice of the Thunder-winds," said he, "thou canst dispute with me and the Lion the kingship among animals!"

The Donkey brayed again in a more terrible voice than before. "If you will accompany me into the wood," said he, "thou shalt see all animals flee from us."

The Tiger felt complimented by an association with the animal who had gained his voice from the thunder, and shortly they entered the wood.

The animals all fled when they saw them coming--not from the Donkey, but from the Tiger. Even the Raven dared not speak, and the Lion slunk back among the rocks; because a Tiger and a Donkey, together, might more than equal his terrifying roar.

"See," said the Donkey, "all nature flees before us. Now walk behind me, and I will show you the secret of my power."

The Tiger stepped behind; and the Donkey very quickly, in a pretty short time, showed him the secret of his power. He kicked the poor foolish Tiger in the head, breaking his nose, and stunning him. Then leaving him in the path for dead, he made good his escape.

"Any one can be great," said he, "if he knows how to use his power!" He was a philosopher.

When the poor Tiger came to his senses he rubbed his nose with his paw, and began to reflect on the lesson that he should learn from his association with a Donkey.

He reflected long and well--and never said anything about it to anyone.

"In my country," added little Sky-High, "we think that when one allows himself to get kicked by a donkey a long silence befits him--he can best show his wisdom in that way. Do you not think so, O Mandarin Americans?"

The "Mandarin Americans" quite agreed with the conclusion drawn by Sky-High.

It was about this time that little Lucy began to wonder if Sky-High were not a wang indeed. No common young Chinese could possess so many kinds of wisdom. He was able to read to her the labels on tea-chests, and to explain the odd figures on the many fans that decorated her playroom.

"How do you know so much, Sky-High?" she asked one day when he had told her the meaning of the pictures on an old Chinese porcelain in the upper hall.

"Many of the porcelains in our country are made to be read," he said. "All educated Chinese people can read porcelains. An American porcelain has no story."

VI.

THE MANDARIN PLATE.

Among the heirlooms to be found in the closets of many New England houses is a curious pattern of China plate. This plate is colored blue-and-white, and in the bowl of each is a picture. The picture represents a rural scene in China--a bridge on which are two young people, a man and a woman; a house, and a tree, and two birds of beautiful plumage flying away. Mrs. Van Buren had such a plate, and a platter with the same rural picture, on her dining-room wall.

It was the delight of Lucy to have Sky-High explain to her the meaning of the pictures on the Chinese vases and on an ornamental Chinese umbrella which hung in the reception-room. One day when Sky-High was dusting in the dining-room, Lucy's eye fell on the blue-and-white plate with the picture of the bridge and birds.

"Oh, Sky-High," said Lucy, "mother has a treasure here--a porcelain plate of your country, see!"

Sky-High looked up to the old porcelain. He had seen such a plate a thousand times; so often, in so many places, that Mrs. Van Buren's had not drawn his eye.

"It is a mandarin plate," he explained to Lucy. "It has a magic power; it brings good luck. My people keep those plates for good fortune."

"A magic plate?" Lucy was all curiosity, now. "Tell me the story of the magic plate," she said. "Sit down and tell me. Who are the young people on the bridge? Begin."

"They are the same as the birds flying away. The birds and the young people are one."

Lucy's interest in the magic plate grew. Sky-High promised to tell her its legend at some time when her mother should be present.

Lucy went at once to her mother. "Oh, mother, we have a magic plate!"

"We have? Where?"

"It is the blue-and-white one over the sideboard."

"Oh! is that a magic plate? That was your grandmother's plate. Old families used to value that kind of ware from China--I do not know why."

"Come with me, and take it down, for Sky-High knows the story of the picture."

Mrs. Van Buren went in and took the plate down; and little Sky-High said, "It is the mandarin plate of our country. In the plate you cannot see the Good Spirit in the air, but it is there. This Good Spirit in the air changes people into other forms when trouble comes, and they fly away."

"But what is the story?" asked Lucy.

"There was once a prince," said Sky-High, "whose name was Chang. He was a good prince; and there he is--the young man in the plate.

"And Prince Chang, the Good, loved a beautiful princess, as good as she was pretty; and there _she_ is--the young woman in the plate.

"The prince and princess went to live on a beautiful isle, where was an orange-tree--see--and there was an old mandarin who lived near--see his house there--and he did not like the good prince and pretty princess when he saw how happy they were on the Isle of the Orange-tree.

"So he determined to separate them; and one day, when he was very full of dislike, he went towards the bridge that led to the Beautiful Isle to catch them. But something very wonderful happened."

"Oh, what _did_ happen?" said Lucy. "I can hardly wait to learn."

"The Good Spirit of the air saw the grim old mandarin stealing away toward the bridge to cross to the Beautiful Isle of the Orange-tree, and he changed the prince and princess into two birds and they flew away. See them flying there at the top of the plate!"

"I will give you the plate," said Mrs. Van Buren to Lucy; "for it was your grandmother's plate, and her name was Lucy, and she would be glad, were she living, to have you delight in a legend like that. It is good to think that a loving Spirit hovers over us when evil draws near us--I like the parable of the plate. I thank you for the story, Sky-High. Your country has good stories."

"The story of the mandarin plate," said the little Chinaman, "is also told in my country in a more tragic way; that the lovely girl is the mandarin's daughter, and that he slays the lovers, and that it is their souls that are seen flying away in the two birds. But it is the other story that our scholars like."

VII.

SKY-HIGH'S KITE.

Charles and Lucy wished to give Sky-High a surprise. They had come into possession of a kite which had been described to them as marvelous, and they got their mother's permission to take the little Chinaman to Franklin Park to see them fly it for the first time.

Franklin Park is not far from Milton Hill; and the street-cars readily carry the crowds of children to the pleasure-grounds of the immense common of woods, fields, great rocks and elms, and whole prairies of grass. It is quite free--the dwellers of close Boston and its bowery suburbs own the vast pleasure-place--the people could hardly have more privileges there did each one hold a deed of it. Little Sky-High thought this wonderful when it was explained to him.

The Van Burens had ample grounds of their own, but Mrs. Van Buren and the children liked to go to Franklin Park. Mrs. Van Buren liked to sit in the great stone Emerson arbor on Schoolmaster's Hill, and watch the white flocks of English sheep wander to and fro and feed, guarded and guided by shepherd-dogs, and to gaze away in an idle reverie at the Blue Hills under the purple charm of distance.

No one jeered now when the Van Buren children appeared in the street with the little Chinaman. Nobody cried, "Rat-tail!" Nobody cried, "Washee-washee-wang!" He often rode with them in the carriage. People looked at him, to be sure, but only with interest--the fame of his accomplishments in the English language had gone abroad.

It was a beautiful early summer day, the white daisies waving in the west wind. Crossing the field, from a little green hill the children prepared to send up the new kite. Out of his narrow black eyes little Sky-High looked at it, as they took it from the package and sent it up. It seemed simply a frame-work, but presently the American flag rolled out in the sky, as though it hung alone, or had bloomed there.

Sky-High beheld it with pleasure. Great was America! He was contented to sit and watch it for hours, or as long as the children pleased. It was not until sunset that the starry kite was hauled down through the golden air, and Lucy and Charles prepared to return home.

On the way the little serving-man said, "I have a kite in my trunk. You let me fly it for you some day? You come with me here?"

So another breezy day the Van Buren children came to the Park with Sky-High. Lucy danced about in the green world for very light-heartedness.

"You stay at the overlook," said Sky-High, pointing to the wild-flower embankment surrounded by burning azalias, "and I will show you how Chinese boys fly kites."

He had brought a thin package under his arm, and while Lucy and Charles waited at the embankment he ran like a thing of air out into the open field.

It was a glorious June day; and the great elms with their fresh young foliage were glimmering thick in the fiery sky, and like an emerald sea was the grass on the field, where hundreds of children were playing ball and other games.

Sky-High threw to the air a bundle of red with a few light angles and circles of bamboo, and it began at once to rise and expand. It went up into the mid-air, and fold after fold rolled out, and there appeared a great dragon.

All the children on the field stopped in their play to look up at it. The sun turned the dragon to intense red. To all appearance a terrible monster had taken possession of the air!

Suddenly the dragon wheeled about and went coiling along towards the overlook, Sky-High following and guiding its course. When it was just overhead it opened a great mouth, and smoke seemed to issue from it.

"Look out, little Lady of the Lotus," cried Sky-High merrily, "or it may swallow you!"

The little girl ran aside, but the dragon made no attempt to come down. When at a height some twenty feet above the earth it paused. Then suddenly, with a puff, it poured down a shower of flowers, butterflies, and gilded paper, like a gold shower. The air was full of them; they drifted here, there, and everywhere. All the children on the field ran to behold the wonder. Everybody shouted, and a great crowd of little people gathered around Sky-High to pick up the tissue flowers and butterflies.

"Ah," said the little Chinaman, "you ought to see him do that in the night, when all he sends down turns into fire!"

There never had been seen a kite like Sky-High's before. But the Chinese have been masters of kite-flying for more than two thousand years. Among their national festivals they have a kite-flying day.

Sky-High often came there with his magic kite. He became a very popular boy in the Park. The Boston boys said "Hello!" when they met him in his azure suit, quiet fun shining in his eyes. Lucy and Charles walked by his side with pride. They introduced him to all of their friends who asked it, and everybody spoke of him.

"Oh, he is such a gentleman, and so educated! Haven't you heard about him? He came to learn how to do business and understand our American homes. He will go back to his country and teach sometime. No doubt a working-boy can rise in China the same as in our land!"

Lucy often begged her mother to let Sky-High wear his beautiful Chinese clothes to the Park--with his kite he would seem like a true enchanter! But Mrs. Van Buren strictly forbade.

VIII.

A WAN.

One day there was heard a tremendous explosion in the department of Sky-High. Mrs. Van Buren came running down-stairs. Lucy followed her, all eyes and ears. Irish Nora met them, running up-stairs. The kitten fled out, and jumped over the fence. The parrot was shrieking.

Above Sky-High's door, Mrs. Van Buren saw a strange black character on a big red paper. It was a square character and somewhat like a heavy "X" and also somewhat like a heavy "H."

Sky-High stood calmly ironing inside his little house at the end of the grape-arbor.

Nora followed her mistress to that abode of mystery.

"It's dynamated we are to be sure!" said she. "I shut my eyes and run, for I thought it was Sky-High that had gone off--but there he stood ironing! And there he stands now!"

"Sky-High," said Mrs. Van Buren, "what was that sound I heard?"

"Crackers, mistress."

"We are only allowed to fire crackers on holidays. Why did you light crackers?"

"To disperse the evil spirits, mistress, the dragons in the air, the imps. It is the way we serve them in China."

"There are no evil spirits here, Sky-High. What could have made you think that there were, Sky-High?"

"The cat--she is long bewitched after my queue. I fired the crackers to dis-power her--I saw her tail going over the fence! She is dis-possessed. She will not jump at Sky-High's queue any more. We shoot crackers in China when evil spirits come in the air. China is a spirit-land, mistress. Our air is filled with bright spirits and dark ones. When the cat begins to frisk its tail, we know there has come a company of evil spirits. The little cat's tail this morning went snap-snap!"

"Oh, Sky-High! there are no evil spirits in this blooming garden," said his mistress. "The little white cat is possessed by a playful spirit, perhaps. What is that strange figure in black on the red paper flag over the door?"

"That is the wan, mistress."

"And what is the wan, Sky-High?"

"The mystic sign that warns off evil spirits."

"Did I not say there are no evil spirits here?"

Here little Sky-High's eyes began to blink. "Why did master put a horse-shoe over the stable-door?"

Lucy looked up at her mother. And said Nora, "I would discharge that sassbox of a Chinese at once!"

"Have you more crackers, Sky-High?"

"In my chest, mistress."

"Keep them until the Fourth of July, Sky-High. At any time when you think there are evil spirits about, come up to me."

"May Sky-High let the wan fly over his door?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Van Buren; "while the horse-shoe remains over the stable to keep witches out, you may let the wan stay. You have as much right to your superstitions as we to ours."

Sky-High in a serene and beautiful spirit continued ironing,

Nora went back to her pantry. "It's not I that likes the foreign boy under the roof," she said. "He'll be convertin' the mistress into a haythen! It'll not be long I'll be here!"

Lucy sat down outside among the trees and birds and watched the wan waving gently in the wind. How neat Sky-High looked in his flowing dress of white and blue! She wondered again if he were not indeed a wang! After a while she made up her mind to relate a Jataka story that night.

The curious tales their little serving-man had told, he called Jataka legends--all of them parables to illustrate the teachings of the divine Buddha. (Also these tales had accounts of mountains that were more than a million miles high, of trees that were a thousand miles tall, and of fishes that were thousands of miles long.)

These tales had enchanted Lucy, though Charlie cared little for them--he preferred to hear of kites and other Chinese games. But Lucy seemed to catch their spirit. And in the evening, when Sky-High sat with them under the trees or in the balconies, she often said, "Now tell us a Jataka story!"

But one night she had said instead, "Now let _me_ tell _you_ a Jataka story!"

The idea that Lucy had a Jataka story seemed to greatly amuse Sky-High. But the tale itself set his black eyes shining and blinking. This had been Lucy's tale:

"Sky-High, I dreamed that you were a wang and had lived in a palace."

To-day she sat a long time in the arbor to compose the tale she would tell in the evening when they would be on the veranda, with Sky-High on the stair at their feet.

So in the evening she said, "I have composed another Jataka story. Would you like to hear it, mother? Would you, Sky-High?"

IX.

LUCY'S JATAKA STORY.

Now the little Chinaman began his stories with words like these, for most Jataka stories so begin:

"Once upon a time in the days of Buddha-Atta in Benares."

To-night Lucy began her tale in nearly the same manner--the words sounded so fine.

"Once on a time, _after_ the days of Buddha-Atta in Benares, there was a little Chinese boy who was born a wang, which is a king. And they called him Wang High-Sky.