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 CHARLES WILLIAM WASON 
 
 COLLECTION 
 
 CHINA AND THE CHINESE 
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 CHARLES WILLIAM WASON 
 ' CLASS OF 1876 
 1918 
 
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 NO. 23233 
 
 Cornell University Library 
 DS 725.W55a 
 
 Ah Moy :the story of a Chinese girl /by 
 
 3 1924 023 482 122 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this bool< is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 9240234821 22 
 

 AH MOY 
 THE STORY OF A CHINESE GIRL 
 
Ah Moy. 
 
AH MOY 
 
 THE STORY OF A CHINESE GIRL 
 
 BY 
 
 LU WHEAT 
 
 Illustrated by Mary E. Curran 
 
 THE GRAFTON PRESS 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
 NEW YORK BOSTON 
 
'% 
 
 1V 
 
 3?S 7 ■:*--' 
 
 Copyright, 1908 
 By LU wheat 
 
 Y ; ! /' 1 I 
 
TO MR. WU TING FANG 
 
 AND TO MR. HERBERT GILES, 
 
 PROFESSOR OF CHINESE IN CAMBRIDGE, ENGLAND 
 
 THE AUTHOR IS GRATEFUL 
 
 FOR KINDLY ASSISTANCE. 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 The author of this little book does not hope to convey to 
 the western mind any very accurate idea of the real china- 
 man,-^- nor of the Eurasian or half-breed, who comes upon 
 the stage wherever the white man sets his foot or pitches 
 his tent ; but if the reader shall gather from its pages even 
 a little of the wisdom of the far East, it will be recompense 
 for weary days and long sea voyages. 
 
AH MOY 
 
 THE STORY OF A CHINESE GIRL 
 
"The path leading up the hUl was dotted with Chinamen.' 
 
AH MOY 
 
 'The Story of a Chinese Girl 
 
 THE province of Honan, in the north of China, is 
 noted for its great Tien Dong temple — a beautiful 
 structure, situated in a mountain fastness which has been 
 made sacred by the worship of ages. Hundreds of feet 
 above the fertile plains which stretch — rice-laden and 
 flower-laden — in every direction, the noble structure 
 stands, a monument to the Buddhism that was, rather than 
 to that which is. 
 
 On a pleasant day in the spring of 1880, the path lead- 
 ing up the mountain side was dotted with Chinamen, who 
 were making a pilgrimage to the sacred edifice. The 
 throng, which was composed of all sorts and conditions of 
 men, was tolerant, and anyone desiring to do so might join 
 it without fear of molestation. Ancestor worshippers, 
 Confucianists and Buddhists, tramped side by side in 
 friendly conversation, while here and there a foreigner told 
 his beads, or led his half-breed son in search of the Holy 
 Grail. To the hard-working coolie the trip was regarded 
 as the joy of his life. He looked upon the sunshine and 
 the shade, and breathed the perfume of the flowers, with a 
 feeling that life could never settle back into the same 
 humdrum existence that it had been. To the rich, whose 
 heavy silk garments brushed close to poverty and rags, the 
 
 9 
 
10 Ah Moy 
 
 • 
 
 infinite blue of the sky, the great distances as they came 
 into view, and the noble, old forest trees brought divine in- 
 spiration. From many lips came the mutter of prayer, or 
 the set phrase : " The dew is on the lotus." Although the 
 path was long and steep, it was not a hard one to climb, 
 for the priests had arranged easy as well as graceful wind- 
 ings and had filled in the nooks and comers with flowers, 
 knowing full well that he who drinks in the beauties of 
 nature is impervious to fatigue. 
 
 For ages uncounted there had been no destruction of 
 life upon the mountain, whether of bird or of beast, of 
 insect or of reptile. This scrupulous regard for the rights 
 of animals had so penetrated the minds of the priests that 
 nothing showed signs of fear. Birds discharged their 
 battery of song, rainbow-tinted lizards darted from bush 
 to bush, and rabbits hopped along the path, scarce yield- 
 ing the right of way to their human brothers. Even the 
 wily serpent went lazily to his crevice in the rocks, under 
 the all-pervading security of the right to life. To the 
 left of the path, a lotus bed had been hewn into the solid 
 rock, where frogs might " reverently repeat their poem " 
 and reptiles live out their allotted span. 
 
 Much etiquette toward one another was observed by the 
 pilgrims, and much pleasant discourse was exchanged, until 
 they came within sound of the chanting priests, then all 
 walked with downcast eyes and palms pressed closely to- 
 gether. 
 
 The buildings, with their eight hundred idols, occupied 
 about seven acres of ground, — the vacant spaces being 
 economically arranged with reference to the food-supply 
 of the priests. Gardens containing vegetables, mushroom 
 beds, and bamboo sprouts were plentiful, while thousands 
 of lily bulbs grew luxuriously or were drying, preparatory 
 to being stored for the winter. 
 
A Chinese Girl 11 
 
 Ranged in long rows were idols, some with wide, glar- 
 ing eyes, to signify that man by nature is fierce and 
 angry; others expressing the calm repose of such as have 
 entered upon the noble eight-fold path. 
 
 As the pilgrims reached the grounds, they separated into 
 groups, each of which sought out and paid reverent de- 
 votion to their favorite saint. Those who were potters 
 bowed before a green porcelain god, while the farmers 
 gathered before a harvest queen. The literati stood, in 
 attitudes signifying devotion, before a female deity, who 
 represented learning; while above all an immense bronze 
 Buddha told by the expression in its face the story of 
 calm repose that comes only to such as have overcome the 
 selfish desires of earth. At the right of the path, almost 
 hidden by f ohage, was a stone image of Hirati,* an idol 
 with the face of a comely woman. Against her breast 
 she held a naked babe, and in her left hand was a full- 
 blown lily. 
 
 Before this idol the smoke of incense wafted lazily; 
 while a Chinaman breathed out to the powers above him 
 the burden of a prayer ■*— a prayer beseeching the Goddess 
 on behalf of a child as yet unborn; beseeching Her to 
 use Her good offices so that, in the fulness of time, he 
 might have a son. Daughters he had, but they were in 
 no wise to be considered as representatives of his ancient 
 line, — since they were destined by providence to be keep- 
 ers of other men's homes and the mothers of other men's 
 
 * This figure, so like the Blessed Mother in our own religious art 
 is pre-Christian by many centuries. It is symbolic of erolution, 
 carried further than the boldest scientist of the west would dare 
 to go. It tells us that, for sins committed in a previous incarna- 
 tion, Hirati was bom a demon, with such wicked impulses that she 
 devoured her own offspring; but that, under the beneficent teaching 
 of the gentle Buddha, all her sins were transmuted into goodness, 
 after which she was given power over the sex of the unborn. 
 Hence there is an ever-increasing throng of young people before her, 
 asking that they may be blessed with sons. 
 
12 Ah Moy 
 
 children. Twice in the years gone by had he laid his 
 choicest incense before Hirati and beat his breasts in 
 prayer, but when the child came it was only a girl, and he 
 was even now considering the ways and means by which 
 a weak spot in the family line might be bridged over. 
 Full well he knew that the civil code of China made pro- 
 vision for such contingencies, but he regarded all its reme- 
 dies as trenching on failure; therefore he had determined 
 to give the gods another chance to answer his prayer by 
 sending him a son. 
 
 So wrapped was he in his thoughts that he lingered long 
 before the idol, oblivious of the fact that others were wait- 
 ing to offer their devotions. But, suddenly, at the sound 
 of approaching footsteps, he laid one more wafer upon the 
 burner and passed, with solemn dignity, into a shaded path. 
 He had gone but a few steps when he heard a familiar voice 
 calling him: 
 
 " Whither away, most honored brother.? the day and 
 the hour are propitious. Shall we not sip together.? I 
 would have converse with thee ; there are many things that 
 I would say." 
 
 Ching Fo turned and, seeing an old friend, bowed very 
 low and said: — 
 
 " Some spirit hath brought us together, Sing Lee ; I 
 saw thee in my sleep last night. Hath the gods been good 
 to thee, and are thy honorable parents well.'' " 
 
 " Well ; and able to climb the path and pay their devo- 
 tions to their patron saint," replied Sing Lee. 
 
 " Thou art in good hap to have them with thee to this 
 ripe old age. Thou art a favorite of the gods, Sing Lee, 
 for thou hast both parents and sons, — parents to lean 
 upon thee in their old age, and sons to continue the family 
 worship when thou art gone." 
 
 "Yes, yes; the old man in the sky has been good to 
 
A Chinese Girl IS 
 
 me and he will also be good to thee. The astrologers pre- 
 dict a bountiful harvest this year, and the birth of many 
 male children. Thy day will come! The sky is full of 
 promise. Let us have tea and sweets, and forget the anx- 
 iety of the hour. Here is a good young priest who will 
 serve us." 
 
 So saying, the two men stepped inside the temple and 
 sat down before a lacquered table. The young priest re- 
 sponded to Sing Lee's two raised fingers with two cups of 
 tea and two plates of preserved ginger. In front of 
 Ching Fo he also placed that great symbol of fecundity 
 and strength, a piece of dried fish, ceremoniously wrapped 
 in many folds of red paper. This delicate reminder that 
 the priest held in remembrance his desire for a son made 
 Ching Fo's heart leap with joy. He slipped the tiny 
 package into his sleeve with the reverent air of a man who 
 touches sacred things; then for some moments he cast his 
 eye downward, deep in thought. After the silence, he 
 turned to Sing Lee and they entered into such conversa- 
 tion as men engage in who hve and move in the same so- 
 cial grade. Its substance was gossip, politics, and poetry 
 with here and there the spice of wit ; but there was a sub- 
 ject, dear to the heart of both men, which they did not 
 mention. This was the betrothal of one of Sing Lee's 
 sons to a daughter of Ching Fo. It had long been a 
 foregone conclusion that the families should intermarry; 
 but, as so far, Ching Fo's wife had produced only fe- 
 males. Sing Lee feared lest the plague of girls should con- 
 tinue. He had learned from close observation that women 
 who bear no sons are liable to transmit this misfortune to 
 the second generation; and he dared not think what it 
 would mean to his own family should there come into it an 
 element to endanger the succession. Under these circum- 
 stances, he felt reluctant about discussing so serious a mat- 
 
14 Ah Mot 
 
 • 
 
 ter as the betrothal until he saw a little further into his 
 friend's prospects ; so the two sipped their tea and ate their 
 ginger, leaving this most important topic for some other 
 time. Ching Fo felt the sKght of his friend and arose 
 to go, bidding him a more or less restrained good-by. But 
 he had taken only a few steps when Sing Lee called him, 
 and, with much warmth, said: 
 
 " May the gods bring it to pass as thou desirest ! " 
 " I thank thee," replied Ching Fo, " for this expression 
 of sympathy, and I earnestly hope that the day is near 
 when I shall be blessed with a son ; for I know full well 
 that nothing is so unfilial as to die and leave no posterity.* 
 My pretty wife is the most unhappy of women because she, 
 as yet, has borne me only daughters. But now the sign 
 of the zodiac is in Taurus, and I hope, before another 
 moon, my luck will have changed. Good-by, honored 
 brother. Ask the genii of thine own family to intercede 
 for me." 
 
 Thus saying, Ching Fo turned into a path that led di- 
 rectly down the hill to a bungalow of more than ordinary 
 pretentiousness. A beautiful arch of honor stood across 
 the way, the stone pavement, beneath which was worn into 
 hollows by the footsteps of generations long since dead. 
 Opposite the arch, carved in the solid rock of the moun- 
 tain side, were sculptured divinities, presiding over a basin 
 which was used for the ceremonious washing of hands. 
 Over a high stone wall rose the heavily timbered roof of 
 a house, which was guarded by a wooden gate, fastened so 
 securely with iron bars that not even Ching Fo could enter 
 until his poundings on the gong had attracted the atten- 
 tion of some one within. Once, twice, thrice, the sound 
 echoed against the stone divinities before a servant un- 
 barred and, with a low salaam, admitted the master. 
 
 * Daughters are not counted as posterity in China. 
 
<;;^^^^^^ 
 
 The Arch of Honor 
 
16 Ah Moy 
 
 Gray with the grayness of ancient things, and weather- 
 beaten by the storms of a thousand years, was this home so 
 hidden in a mountain nook. On the south side lay a little 
 ground, where nested birds and bees and spiders, — for no 
 attempt at formal gardening had ever desecrated the 
 place. Everything indicated that the owner was a man 
 upon whom the gods had bestowed a goodly share of the 
 things that perish. Acres and acres of waving rice-fields 
 came into view, as the little elevation on which the house 
 stood was reached, and terraces of vegetables grew far up 
 the steep hillsides. Nothing, however, spoke of modern 
 conveniences. The doors groaned on their wooden hinges ; 
 insects crept through the open space between the eaves and 
 the walls and the Chinese rat, more famous and more trou- 
 blesome than any other rat, lived and squeaked between the 
 ceiling and the roof. Even snakes occasionally thrust 
 their forked tongues through the holes in the wall. Other 
 things, besides rats and snakes, had a pre-emption claim 
 upon certain portions of the house, — creeping things of 
 uncanny look; but Ching Fo regarded them all as part 
 and parcel of the place, for the house was very old. 
 Ching Fo said that he had lived in it a thousand years, by 
 which he meant that the family shrine, so stiff and fly- 
 specked, had been maintained there a thousand years, and 
 he reckoned his own age, not as an individual, but as the 
 representative of a family which must be considered in its 
 entirety, rather than in separate parts. To honor this 
 long line of ancestors, and to see to it that a successor was 
 duly provided, was Ching Fo's mission in life, and subjects 
 remote from this great one did not enter very fully into 
 his calculations. 
 
 He believed in ghosts, for there were many shadowy 
 resurrections at his own hearth-stone, — resurrections of 
 ancestors, who were ever counseling him to honor their 
 
A Chinese Giel 17 
 
 memory and observe their customs. For ages before him, 
 his forefathers had practiced the rigid virtue that makes 
 possible a clear vision of spiritual things ; hence, no secret 
 passion had scattered uncleanness through his body or 
 filled his brain with the disease of sensuality. Economy 
 and industry had brought to him the comforts that go to 
 make life pleasant in a Chinese home, and it was reckoned 
 in the neighborhood that he was a fortunate man. The 
 one dark cloud that hung across his pathway, and left 
 its shadow over all his days, was, that, despite the costly 
 incense burned before the goddess Hirati, and despite the 
 soft, sweet prayers of his wife, she had brought him only 
 daughters. 
 
 As Ching Fo entered the front door where the little lamp 
 was burning in honor of his ancestors, he felt it beating in 
 upon him that he was under the displeasure of some evil 
 spirit. He lighted an incense stick, carefully leaving the 
 ashes of preceding ones piled high in the bowl, removed the 
 shoes from his white stockinged feet, and took from the 
 shelf a copy of the Chinese Family Code. Nervously he 
 turned to the page which provides for the maintenance of 
 family worship in case no sons are born, then closed the 
 book and pondered with dejected brow. 
 
 " Slave girls, if they bear male children, may be the in- 
 struments with which to bridge over a weak spot in the 
 family line. Nephews may be adopted, or daughters be- 
 trothed to the sons of friends and the affianced may be 
 adopted," he quoted. 
 
 " But all these," he said to himself, " are courts of 
 last resort, to which we go only when all else fails. The 
 most feasible way in case I have another daughter, will be 
 to take a second wife. Peace may be kept in the family 
 — or it may not — even if not, 'twere better than to die 
 and leave no posterity." 
 
18 Ajh Moy 
 
 As he soliloquized over the case, he thought of the as- 
 trologer, Ah Sin, who lived in a hut only a mile away, 
 and decided to pay him a visit. Some definite informa- 
 tion might be gotten there, and no stone should be left 
 unturned in such a serious matter. In a silent and pre- 
 occupied manner he passed out through the gate and into 
 the open road, thence across a strip of stony ground and 
 through a gap in the chfF, from which he emerged upon a 
 vast level of rice-fields, where green waves followed each 
 other all day, like the tides of an inland sea. The sight 
 was so beautiful that it intoxicated him, and in a sort of 
 enchantment he heard, in imagination, the cry of a new- 
 born babe. Startled and thrilled by the sound, he has- 
 tened forward to the astrologer. 
 
 " What mystery hangs over me to-day," he said. " I 
 come to consult thee concerning an heir to the shrine of my 
 fathers, and, lo, I hear a voice like the wail of an infant 
 wafted across the fields. Tell me, good prophet, are the 
 gods angry, or are they propitious? Canst thou answer, 
 wise man? Two daughters have I, but, alas, no son. 
 Canst tell me what the signs are? " 
 
 The astrologer turned over his charts and made calcu- 
 lations among the stars before he answered and then very 
 measuredly said: 
 
 " The crab is not in conjunction with the sun, but the 
 vernal equinox is at hand, and Aries is a masculine sign. 
 May the lucky stars 'auspiciously unite!" 
 
 This was somewhat less than Ching Fo had hoped, but 
 he hastened homeward with the feeling still strong in his 
 heart that good news awaited him there. As he retraced 
 his steps over the mountain path, the mystic sound still 
 thrilled him and filled him with the hope that he had heard 
 a voice — and that it was the voice of a son. 
 
 But his expectations were blighted when a servant met 
 
A Chinese Giel 19 
 
 him at the door, and, bowing very low, informed him that 
 a new born female child awaited his acknowledgment. 
 Dark shadows flung themselves into his coal black eyes 
 as, for a moment, he was staggered by the blow. 
 
 " Can it be," he said bitterly, " that some angry god is 
 turning all my sons to girls .'' Oh, gentle goddess, to whom 
 I have so often burned my choicest incense, where art thou ? 
 and why hast thou forsaken me? " 
 
 A wail from the infant brought him to the conscious- 
 ness that he must decide whether he should accept this lat- 
 est born daughter, or whether he should command the 
 servants to expose her. Being a good Buddhist, he had al- 
 ways observed the rule of the brotherhood, forbidding the 
 destruction of life, except under circumstances most im- 
 perative ; so he decided that this girl must be provided for. 
 He reasoned, logically, that the power given to fathers 
 by the Romans, by the Gauls, and by his own countrymen, 
 over the Hves of female children came into direct conflict 
 with the laws of Buddha, and he felt bound by the latter. 
 
 " There is no help for it," he said aloud, " I must 
 accept this third female child." 
 
 Thus deciding, he put his feet into a pair of embroid- 
 ered shoes, tossed back the long queue which had been 
 coiled around his head, and went to the bedside of his wife. 
 As he beheld the infant, the cold legal aspect of the case 
 passed out of his mind and a look of inexpressible tender- 
 ness crept over his face. For a moment he bent his eye 
 upon the babe, then, taking her almost reverently into his 
 arms, he raised her three times towards the ceiling, thus ad- 
 mitting that she was bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. 
 When he had pressed her to his bosom for one brief mo- 
 ment, he handed her to a nurse and retired. No word was 
 spoken by either husband or wife, but a tear bedewed the 
 mother's eye as she turned her face to the wall. 
 
so 
 
 Ah Moy 
 
 The formal acknowledgment of the child having taken 
 place, it was dressed and laid beside its mother, who feebly 
 raised her arms to receive the little stranger, although ut- 
 tering a moan at the thought of having again given birth 
 to a female child. Sadly she remembered the incense she 
 had burned and the prayers she had said ; sadly she sighed 
 for a son to make her seem more beautiful in the sight of 
 her husband. 
 
n 
 
 THE unconscious cause of all this trouble stretched her 
 toes, and blinked her eyes, and grew, just like any 
 other well-cared-for baby. When she was a month old, a 
 fine party was given in her honor. Relatives came from 
 far and near, bringing fruit and flowers. One of her 
 cousins brought a large durion with such a strong odor 
 that it made her sneeze, at which her mother put a wadded 
 
 blouse over her, for fear she was taking cold. At noon 
 they shaved her head, leaving only a little tuft of hair on 
 the right side, to show that she was not betrothed, and 
 they named her Ah Moy, which being interpreted, means 
 " a female child." To this name, however, they prefixed 
 the number three that she might be distinguished from her 
 two sisters, whose names were also Ah Moy. Soon after 
 she was named, a priest came on pony-back adown the hill 
 and brought her a charm, enclosed in many folds of red 
 paper. This the little mother thought to be a great honor, 
 
 21 
 
M2 Ah Moy 
 
 for it was seldom that a priest took the trouble to bless a 
 girl baby. 
 
 " We will hang the precious token over the bed, to keep 
 evil-spirits away," said Ching Fo, and with hammer and 
 nail he fastened the good luck symbol over the cradle where 
 slept his third daughter, in bhssful unconsciousness of 
 spirits either good or bad. 
 
 Poor little Ah Moy! It was travesty to give her the 
 symbol, for it represented the great Chinese monad, called 
 Ying and Yang, used far back in the darkness of forgot- 
 ten time to represent the equality of the sexes. But the 
 priests had forgotten — and during the thousand years 
 that Ching Fo had lived in the bungalow, no inquiry had 
 been made as to its significance.* 
 
 For the next two months the third daughter lay very 
 quietly in her bamboo cradle. Sometimes her mother called 
 her " the blessed one," because she was so very good, but 
 Ching Fo objected to this, for he thought it an innovation 
 on the usages of their ancestors, who never gave names to 
 their female children. " It is not proper," he said, " that 
 we should break away from the customs of our fore- 
 fathers." 
 
 When her clothes were removed, her feet sometimes flew 
 up and she saw her pretty little toes, but she kept the calm 
 exterior of a Chinese baby until one day when a cockroach 
 came tramping over her bed. Then she laughed, f This 
 
 * The adoption by the Northern Pacific R. R. Company of the 
 Ylng and Yang as a trademark has made us familiar with one 
 of the great symbols of the Far East. It is found on gravestones, 
 dating back thousands of years before Christ, and Is present in 
 every climate from Yezo, in the north of Japan, to the soft, semi- 
 tropics of India. It is also found in the basketry of our own 
 North American Indians, and cut on the stone discs of the Mound 
 Builders of Tennessee. It has many meanings, but in China is un- 
 derstood to stand for the male and female principles, light and 
 darkness, or positive and negative forces. 
 
 t The Sisters of Charity in China declare that many girl babies 
 never laugh. 
 
A Chinese Girl 23 
 
 so pleased her mother that she left her weaving and whis- 
 pered a soft prayer into the little brown ear of her child. 
 A prayer to the same goddess, Hirati, beseeching her to 
 intercede for Ah Moy that she might some day become 
 the mother of sons — for she was now betrothed to Ting 
 Ho, the sturdy three-year-old son of Sing Lee. Soon 
 after this, she was old enough to have her pretty little fin- 
 gers whipped; for a Chinese baby must not lay its hand 
 upon anything that is not given it. Even the long pipe 
 that her father smoked so temptingly near, as he carried 
 her in his arms, was forbidden to be investigated by the 
 slightest touch. 
 
 After a few more weeks she was taken out into the open 
 court and laid upon a heavy bed-quilt, where she could see 
 her sisters play and hear them chant the pretty hymns 
 that the priest had given them to learn. The great out of 
 doors, with its sky, and the glory of color around her was 
 to Ah Moy an everchanging wonderland. From the 
 emerald depths of a bamboo tree that had thrown one 
 slender arm across the wall, she heard the soft, far-away 
 tinkle of the bell insect, so dear to painters and poets.* 
 Her father was very fond of the small musicians which 
 swarmed in summer, and Ah Moy's ear was trained to in- 
 sect music by ages of nature-loving ancestors. She also 
 head the frogs in her father's rice-fields repeating their 
 poem and was lulled to sleep by the droning of the bees 
 and the sighing of the pines. 
 
 Ching Fo was fond of his three daughters and joined 
 in their play with youthful simplicity. He caught for 
 them fireflies and grasshoppers, which he imprisoned in the 
 tiniest of bamboo cages; he hung boughs of green upon 
 the walls to attract the butterflies, and Ah Moy soon grew 
 
 * Old Chinese poets refer to the bell insect with great afFectlon, 
 because it makes a noise that reminds them of home. 
 
M Ah Mor 
 
 to anticipate with pleasure her winged visitors. It was 
 a great event in the lives of the three little girls when, one 
 day, their mother placed in the court a box containing five 
 soft, fluffy little chickens. One wing of each little chick 
 was dyed purple, so that they might be distinguished from 
 Ah Fat's chickens, which had a red spot on each head. 
 Every day the chickens were turned out into the street for 
 exercise, but always those with the purple wings found 
 their way back to the court; while Ah Fat's chickens with 
 the red heads as surely went into his gate. The little girls 
 played with their new pets, divided their rice with them, 
 and, sometimes, longed to follow them into the street; but 
 the inexorable custom of China, which gives girls no privi- 
 leges outside their own gates, was rigidly, enforced. 
 
 Once, when the gate had been left ajar, Ah Moy, number 
 one, ventured out into the path, but she received such a 
 cruel blow on her legs that she never repeated the disobedi- 
 ence ; and that night her nurse told a frightful story about 
 the " cave of the infant ghosts," and how a great dragon 
 watches for disobedient little girls, and, to catch them, and 
 carry them off to a place where they must build sand tow- 
 ers which are ever swept away by the wind, and which the 
 tired little hands must hasten to rebuild, lest the dragon 
 come and punish them for idleness. This story so im- 
 pressed Ah Moy number one that she dreamed when she 
 went to sleep that the dragon came and fastened his claws 
 deep in her leg where the bamboo whip had left its mark. 
 
 Thus the days of childhood slipped into enchanted years, 
 and the three daughters of Ching Fo lived in bhssful un- 
 consciousness that they were regarded by their parents as 
 evidence of an angry god. For them, as for other chil- 
 dren, there were days of joy and days of sorrow; but for 
 them, more than for other children, the birds sang, the 
 bees droned, and nature poured out her bounteous store 
 
VJmh 
 
 n^'^:\' 
 
 
 
 ' He carried her many a day upon his arm.' 
 
26 
 
 Ah Moy 
 
 of bloom. The heart of Ching Fo was warm and loving ; 
 the little mother was a model of devotion, and life went 
 on from year to year in a home where but little gloom fell 
 through the sunshine. Especially was the love of Ching 
 Fo for Ah Moy, number three, commented upon by the 
 people in the neighborhood, as he carried her on his arm 
 to see the trees and the great gray boulders that projected 
 from the mountain side, or as he showed her the bloom on 
 many a wayside flower. 
 
Ill 
 
 IN the fourth spring of Ah Moy's hfe an event occurred 
 which re-shaped all the doings of the bungalow. One 
 beautiful April day there was added to the family another 
 babe — a babe appointed by the gods to continue the 
 family worship — a long-looked-for, a patiently waited 
 for, a much beloved son. 
 
 Ching Fo felt now the blessed assurance that for him 
 the little lamp on the houshold shrine would continue to 
 bum as it had done for his fathers. He felt that for him, 
 as for them, the filial love of his son would ensure a tablet 
 to his memory, and that the smoke of incense would curl in 
 misty circles over his unforgotten name. He saw, in 
 softest fancy, the children of his children's children keep- 
 ing the home life forever free from the encroachment of 
 new ideas. 
 
 With his three daughters, he continued to hold happy 
 and loving intercourse; but as they were only females, he 
 regarded them as luxuries rather than as successors to his 
 ancestral hne. Beautiful and obedient they were, and now 
 that he had a son, he felt it good to have them, for they 
 vied with him in celebrating the advent of the man child 
 and helped to make his home the happiest in the land. 
 
 The news that a son had been born to his honorable line 
 soon spread to all the country round about, for the proud 
 father immediately had set before his house the tallest bam- 
 boo pole that could be found, and, from its top, he floated 
 that great symbol of fecundity and strength, a paper carp. 
 Large of belly, red of gill and gaping of mouth, it 
 
 27 
 
28 Ah Moy 
 
 # 
 floated and thus told the happy story. Many a time had 
 Ching Fo seen his neighbors raise the carp to proclaim the 
 birth of a son, and three times had he prepared the pole 
 for himself, to lay it sorrowfully away, because the God of 
 Fate had sent him only a daughter. On such occasions, 
 the wise ones predicted that Ching Fo was under the dis- 
 pleasure of the gods, and that his family line would perish 
 from the earth; but now the noble symbol was flaunting 
 a defiance to all their sneers and he was full of joy. 
 
 The son was strong and healthy, and, like most Chinese 
 babies, a non-cryer. The poor little-foot mother was 
 hardly able to be about before relatives began to come from 
 far and near to pay their respects and to bring gifts, 
 which proved a most excellent investment, from a business 
 point of view, for Ching Fo acknowledged the honor paid 
 his son by returning manifold. 
 
 The older daughters looked on with wonder at the im- 
 portance attributed to the advent of this new babe ; but 
 Ah Moy number three cuddled up to her mother and gave 
 vent to tears. Ching Fo, seeing how deeply she grieved 
 for a place on her mother's knee, tried to console her with 
 a little sleeve-dog, which he presented with great show of 
 ceremony. 
 
 " Take this, daughter of mine," he said, " and weep no 
 more, for in the next incarnation mayhap thou shalt be 
 bom a male. The yoke that galls thee is of thy own mak- 
 ing, pretty one, and when thou hast atoned for sins com- 
 mitted in a past incarnation, it will come to pass that thou 
 shalt be no more a despised female. Take the dog and — 
 mayest thou achieve ! " 
 
 Ah Moy took the dog and held it in her little brown 
 arms, but her hurt was too deep to be so easily healed. 
 She soon laid it down and clung to her nurse and cried 
 and behaved like a very jealous little girl. 
 
A Chinese Girl 29 
 
 But a great festival called the " feast of dolls," was 
 near, and when her father took her on his arm to see the 
 shops, set out in dazzling array, and when sweets mys- 
 teriously found their way into her sleeve pockets, she dried 
 her tears and joined with her sisters in the festivities. 
 
 For six enchanted days the celebration continued, with 
 its round of merry-making. The go-down was ransacked 
 for dolls of mothers and grandmothers, and the tiniest tod- 
 lers in the neighborhood exchanged calls and brought 
 gifts. The Ching Fo family donned its richest silks and 
 kept open house, while games and other amusements were 
 the order of the day. A new doll was purchased for each 
 daughter in the family and as all must be dressed in silk 
 and have many pieces of miniature furniture, it was a busy 
 time ; and when the festival was over and all the dolls were 
 stored away, to be seen no more for a year, little Ah Moy 
 had forgotten her trouble and contentedly settled into her 
 place. 
 
 The fifth day of the fifth month brought another festi- 
 val of great importance — the " Boy's Festival," and 
 Ching Fo determined to observe this with a display that 
 should be worthy of his son. According to custom, there 
 should be at this season a pole, flying a fish, for each son 
 in the family. But Ching Fo waived the strict letter of 
 the law on this occasion and raised a whole school of carp 
 in front of his house — some for nephews, some for pros- 
 pective sons, and others for sons-in-law ; while within doors 
 miniature warriors and all the paraphernalia of a soldier's 
 train were arranged. 
 
 On the streets were processions of old and young, climb- 
 ing the long hill to the temple. Never before in all her 
 three thousand years had Hirati had so many young 
 mothers before her; never before had the temple been so 
 thronged with boys. Up the long mountain path Ching 
 
so Ah Moy 
 
 Fo decided that his son and heir should be taken, and to 
 this end he detailed a retinue of servants. In a sedan 
 chair, bespangled with gold embroidery and closed in with 
 heavy silk curtains, the mother and infant were placed. 
 Two servants preceded them to beat off the crowd, while 
 strung out in single file behind were the daughters and their 
 nurses, an old woman to act as adviser in case of ac- 
 cident, and friends and relatives innumerable. Four men 
 carried the sedan chair, while each rikisha was attended 
 by one pull man and one push man, making in all a dozen 
 or more servants in attendance upon this blinking baby. 
 
 If ever a young mother was proud, it was the little wife 
 of Ching Fo as she stood with her son before Hirati that 
 day; old friends congratulated her; the poor looked with 
 envy upon her fine cortege, and even Hirati seemed to 
 smile down upon her. 
 
 In the afternoon a priest, with shaven head and yellow 
 robe, had himself let down from the highest point of jut- 
 ting rock, in order that he might indulge in grandiose 
 prophecy concerning the future of the babe; and later, 
 this same priest performed juggleries and sword-dances 
 and swallowed fire and spat out ribbons, and by a magic 
 sentence changed water into wine. So passed a delightful 
 day, and, as the mists of evening crept over the distant 
 hills,, Mrs. Ching Fo and her party turned homeward, 
 tired out with pleasure. 
 
 During all the gala day the son had uttered no protest, 
 but had slept and eaten, and, like a true philosopher, 
 closed his eyes when the smoke of incense blew too strongly 
 upon him. 
 
 After the festival was over and the toys were all laid 
 away, rice and chop-sticks took the place of sweets, and 
 everything fell back into the old, uneventful groove. The 
 little girls chanted their lessons from morning until night ; 
 
A Chinese Giel 
 
 31 
 
 the frogs and insects kept up their music; and the rats 
 scrambled through the windows and down the chimney In 
 search of food. Sing Lee rode over in his riklsha once a 
 week to gossip, and, taking It all In all, life In the Ching Fo 
 household was happy and heaven seemed propitious. 
 
IV 
 
 ANOTHER year had slipped away and Ah Moy num- 
 ber three was growing slender and graceful. Her 
 nimble step was always pattering beside her father, whom 
 she followed with the sweet constancy of an affectionate 
 nature. Although it was high time that her feet were 
 bound, hke those of other young girls, nothing had yet 
 been done about it, except that Ching Fo had several times 
 conversed with his wife on the subject and had had the 
 child's bed removed to an out-house — that her moans 
 might not disturb the family. 
 
 Ah Moy prattled about the binding in her pretty baby 
 fashion and thought that when a two and half -inch shoe 
 could be got on her foot she would look very beautiful. 
 
 " Father, tell me the story about lilies growing in 
 places where pretty little feet have trod," Ah Moy said 
 one bright morning as she slipped her hand into his. 
 
 "Yes, daughter. It is said that the last empress of 
 the Shan dynasty wore such tiny shoes that yellow lilies 
 sprang out of the ground wherever she trod." 
 
 "Father, do fairies have little feet?" 
 
 " Yes, daughter. Fairies, so beloved by little children, 
 have small feet." 
 
 "And will my betrothed love me better, if I have my 
 feet bound.'' " the child continued. 
 
 " Yes," replied the father, " no refined Chinaman wishes 
 to marry a woman with large feet." 
 
 These same questions, and many more, Ah Moy put to 
 her mother, who answered with sadness in her tone. 
 
A Chinese Giel 33 
 
 " Yes, yes ; it is the custom, and women have httle 
 voice in the matter." 
 
 " Women must obey the men of their family, whether 
 they wish to do so or not," she again continued. 
 
 " Oh, mamma," the child cried, " your little girl will not 
 be disobedient. I will be brave and keep my little dog 
 close in my arms." 
 
 " Yes," said the mother, " perhaps the little dog will 
 help to comfort you through the trying ordeal." 
 
 As she said this an expression of pain came into her face, 
 but she brushed it away with a nervous motion of the 
 hand and said: 
 
 " We will wait till father says so. It will be time 
 enough when he speaks." 
 
 That evening, in answer to an inquiry from his wife, 
 Ching Fo replied, " Yes, it must be done soon, but let 
 her run about a little longer. It is nearly time for the 
 plum blossom festival, and I love to see her go dancing 
 down the paths before me, to watch the bloom breaking 
 through the bark. Let her run until the festival is 
 over." 
 
 He felt the balm in the air and the soft clearness of 
 the lengthened days, and a tenderness crept over him which 
 made the prattle of his children unusually sweet. So he 
 said again to his wife: — 
 
 " Let her run. Child life is short enough at best. 
 When the festival is over, we will attend to the foot-bind- 
 ing." 
 
 His wife made a pretty, resigned bow, but her husband 
 noticed an expression in her eye not altogether in accord 
 with her usual submissiveness. 
 
 " She is strong and brave," he added, " and she will 
 bear it well." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; she is strong and if it must be done — it 
 
34 Ah Moy ^ 
 
 must be done," and casting a pathetic glance at her own 
 crippled feet, she hobbled out of the room. 
 
 Ching Fo's eyes followed her with a look of surprise. 
 He had never suspected that his wife was dissatisfied with 
 her lot, or that she had any opinions of her own. 
 
 " I must send for her and learn the meaning of the 
 look in her face," he decided. So he clapped his hands 
 and a servant entered. 
 
 " Han Kow," he said, " inform the madam that I would 
 have converse with her." 
 
 " The madam.? " the man replied, " I know not where 
 to look for her. I have seen her but once to-day, and 
 then in conversation with a strange woman at the back 
 gate." 
 
 " Find her," the master commanded angrily. 
 
 Han Kow fled from the room and hastened through 
 the house and the open court to the servants' quarters, 
 where he found the mistress entertaining her son with a 
 toy. When told that the master wished her to report to 
 him immediately, she hurried, like a good wife, into his 
 presence. 
 
 " Let us speak more frankly of the foot-binding," 
 Ching Fo said, " is everything in readiness? " 
 
 " There are bandages in plenty and the bed, as thou 
 knowest, is removed beyond hearing," she replied. 
 
 " I like not thine answers to-day," frowned Ching Fo, 
 " hast thou told me all ? Have you not had conversa- 
 tion with some one outside the family.'' " 
 
 " I have seen no one," she answered, " except a worthy 
 woman who asked for refreshments to bear her up on a 
 long journey." 
 
 This did not entirely satisfy the husband, but he turned 
 the conversation to the coming plum-blossom season. 
 
 " We must prepare for many guests," he said, " for 
 
A Chinese Girl 35 
 
 there will come to stay with us two nephews from beyond 
 the great canal and a son of my uncle, and there will be 
 friends and callers at all hours. You must see to it that 
 everything is in readiness." 
 
 " Everything will be in readiness," responded his wife, 
 and, seeing that he had nothing further to say to her, she 
 left the room. The next day was so fully occupied with 
 preparations for her husband's guests that she did not have 
 time for thought about foot-binding. 
 
 Crisp hog skin and mushroom sauce filled the wife's 
 mind; preserved eggs, that had been laid away in ashes 
 of straw by her own dainty fingers, were to be resurrected, 
 and sweets, beyond the brightest dreams of the little girls, 
 must be patted into shape. Besides preparing the refresh- 
 ments, the lintels of the doors and the blank spaces on the 
 walls must be covered with red paper, and over the bunga- 
 low must float a new silk flag. 
 
 And because the little wife of Ching Fo had so much to 
 do that she did not know where to begin, she decided to 
 send a rikisha coolie over to the home of Sing Lee and 
 invite the worthy matron of that house to come and con- 
 fer with her concerning some of the details of the work. 
 It was a happy thought and turned a gloomy morning 
 into a sunny afternoon. 
 
 The wife of Sing Lee was much pleased at the honor 
 paid her, and was glad to have an excuse for going out, 
 so she made hasty preparations to obey the summons. She 
 belonged to the wealthy^ class and would not, if she could, 
 and could not, if she would, move without a maid, so she 
 brought with her Lo Ming, a normal footed servant. 
 Being heavily built and the mother of many children, the 
 wife of Sing Lee waddled like a goose on her three-inch 
 shoes ; but Lo Ming stood firm on wooden clogs and sup- 
 ported her mistress. Lo Ming also wore ornaments in 
 
36 Ah Moy 
 
 her hair that jingled, and smooth, green bracelets on her 
 wrists, which were placed there soon after she was born. 
 
 Besides her maid, the lady brought along an infant and 
 its nurse, a man to run ahead and a push man, so that the 
 string of attendants upon this one informal call was five. 
 The nurse and the baby and the maid came into the house 
 with the mistress, but the coolies curled themselves up on 
 the sidewalk and went to sleep. 
 
 Leaning heavily upon the shoulder of her maid, the 
 visitor entered the presence of her hostess with much for- 
 mality and rustling of silken trousers. As soon as the 
 ceremony of entrance was over, the good lady brought a 
 few choice recipes out of her sleeve and proceeded to ex- 
 plain their special merits. Then followed conversation 
 about the coming festivities. Madam Sing Lee offered to 
 lend ivory chop-sticks and supply any lack of dainties 
 from her own store. Many little nothings were discussed, 
 much tea was sipped, and the water clock pointed to the 
 hour of five before Mrs. Sing Lee, with her train of at- 
 tendants, took the road for home. 
 
 The next day, however, things began to move in the 
 house of Ching Fo. The servants were called together 
 and the work was laid out in true business-like style, the 
 Dragon flag was finished, packages of fire-crackers and in- 
 cense-sticks were brought out of their boxes, and a glare of 
 red paper transformed the doors and lintels. A week of 
 this strenuous work and the house of Ching Fo broke into 
 loud jubilee. 
 
 Double-headers were exploded and tom-toms beaten; 
 stringed instruments and wind instruments throbbed weird 
 music on the evening breeze ; processions of children chanted 
 Buddhist hymns, and long rows of lanterns cast a magic 
 glow over the scene. The whole of China was newly 
 shaven and newly clad; spotless white stockings peeped 
 
A Chinese Girl 37 
 
 from beneath trousers of heavenly blue; queues were 
 lengthened and swung artistically about the heels ; while in 
 every house, even those of the poorest, a little incense 
 smoldered before a shrine or curled over the graves of pet 
 animals or birds. 
 
 When the feast of the dead was ready Ching Fo placed 
 the spirit-recalling incense in a burner before the ancestral 
 shrine, and, with eyes slightly inclined toward the nose, 
 meditated upon the sacred faces of his dead. As the per- 
 fume filled the room, he folded his hands and fixed his eyes 
 upon the fire until he saw a spirit hover in the smoke, take 
 shape, grow brighter, become illumined, and then softly 
 fade away. How long he meditated and how intense the 
 strain, was only revealed by the drops of perspiration that 
 beaded his shaven forehead. After a season of silence 
 he arose, went to the table and religiously set apart space 
 for his invisible guests. Then there gathered around the 
 board such male members of his family as had paid their 
 debts, dissipated their " wrath matter," and were able to 
 wish each other good luck for a thousand years to come. 
 Abstemiousness and ceremonious politeness characterized 
 this feast of the dead; but, after it was over, for ten en- 
 chanted days, poetry and " squeeze pidgin," * gambling 
 and drinking followed. 
 
 To each of his friends Ching Fo sent a present, wrapped 
 in many folds of ceremonious paper, while to his children 
 he brought gifts of toys and fruit, and lavished upon 
 them an exuberance of love. " Perfume of the lotus," 
 *' dew of the morning "and " heayen born," were not too 
 extravagant names for him to bestow upon his daughters 
 during the plum-blossom season. 
 
 * A sort of commission, generally In the form of a present, which 
 is exacted by Chinamen who assist in arranging the details of a 
 trade. 
 
88 Ah Mot 
 
 The trees, about which centered a large part of the fes- 
 tivities, were gnarled and old; green moss hung heavily 
 on the north sides, and many birds nested in their boughs. 
 But they were transformed, before the festival was over, 
 by fluttering scraps of paper, on which were written 
 verses. In this happy contest of poetry-making, all were 
 welcome. Whether visionary young women dashed off a line 
 and twisted it with deft fingers around a twig, or whether 
 sedate old men pondered long over a sonnet, was a matter 
 of little moment to Ching Fo ; for he felt that the great 
 watchful heavens proclaimed the equality of man at this 
 season. Confucius had taught, long centuries before, that 
 all the black-haired men were brethren, and Ching Fo, as 
 his heart expanded with the budding spring, felt the one- 
 ness of his kind. Beside his realization of fellowship, there 
 had been poured into his soul myth after myth concerning 
 the festival, each of which had sunk in and been absorbed 
 until every detail of the occasion symbolized something ei- 
 ther beautiful, mysterious, or terrible. To gather his fam- 
 ily under a tree while he struck its limbs with a long pole 
 and brought down upon them a shower of scented petals 
 was, to his mind, a baptism which carried with it the sacred- 
 ness of a religious rite. To buy birds in cages for his chil- 
 dren to liberate, was to him an invocation to the goddess of 
 Mercy that all slaves might go free. To have his son 
 seated at his right hand was to honor his father and his 
 mother and to insure the succession of the family worship. 
 
THE plum-blossom season was over. The poems had 
 all been gathered from the tree, and folded in baskets 
 to be reread as time and inclination favored. The chil- 
 dren's toys were in the go-down without a mar. Things 
 that would have gone to pieces like egg shells in the hands 
 of Western children were safely stored away for another 
 holiday, and life in the bungalow was settling back into its 
 usual monotony. One evening, when the sky was golden 
 in the west, Ching Fo stepped into the path and turned 
 toward the old tree to see if, perchance, it was putting out 
 any new bloom. As he did so, he heard Ah Moy's light step 
 behind him and smiled back an invitation to her to accom- 
 pany him. They walked leisurely, Ah Moy's tongue prat- 
 tling about some childish grief. As they passed close to 
 the wall which enclosed the premises, a bit of paper came 
 fluttering toward them. 
 
 " Some belated guest," thought Ching Fo, as he un- 
 folded a neatly-written page. To his astonishment, he 
 found that, although done in the refined language of the 
 Wenli (a language spoken only by the educated class), 
 it contained a criticism on the custom of foot-binding. By 
 what authority it had been written, and by whose auda- 
 cious hand intruded upon his premises, were questions that 
 knit his brow and darkened his eye. Naturally his first 
 thought was of the missionaries, who had so persistently 
 maintained their school below, on the Yang-tse-Kiang river. 
 But as he looked the document over, he saw that it bore 
 none of the marks of their work. 
 
 " They never write in verse," he said to himself, " and 
 
 39 
 
40 Ah Moy 
 
 they would not — they could not — use the beautiful 
 ideographs of the WenU." 
 
 Ah Moy saw the cloud that had spread over her father's 
 face and slipped her Uttle hand into his, but he did not 
 notice her now. The sentiment expressed in that trifling 
 verse had stung him as an insult. It was his first thought 
 to burn the sheet and thus end the matter, but, after a little 
 hesitation, he folded it deep into his sleeve, all the while 
 dubiously shaking his head. 
 
 " If the wife should get a glimpse of it," he thought, 
 " it would add fuel to the fire already kindled," then, turn- 
 ing to his little daughter, he took her hand and together 
 they walked back to the house. There everything was as 
 they had left it ; the lamp flickered on the household shrine, 
 the setting sun still worked its miracle of purple and 
 gold on the mountain peaks, while blue sheets of mist were 
 gloaming in the valley ; but Ching Fo only saw the poem 
 which had been aimed by sacrilegious hands at his family 
 hfe. 
 
 The more he thought of it the more he felt that it was 
 a matter of too much importance to be passed lightly over. 
 It came beating into his heart that he must consult with 
 someone about it, and that this someone must not be his 
 wife. In this state of mind, he put on a heavily wadded 
 blouse and went out into the street. At once a swarm of 
 rikisha coolies gathered about him to solicit his patron- 
 age, but without heeding them he turned into the narrow 
 path that led up to the temple. He had gone but a few 
 steps, however, before he turned back and addressed the 
 nearest coolie, saying: — 
 
 " Take me down to the house of Sing Lee." 
 
 It was but a short run down the hill to his friend's house, 
 and as he caught a glimpse of its quiet roof he decided in 
 his heart to be governed by Sing Lee's advice. 
 
A Chinese Giel 41 
 
 As he stepped out of the rikisha Ching Fo felt in his 
 sleeve to make sure that the offensive paper was still there, 
 and then struck the old bronze bell a vigorous blow. A 
 servant unbarred the door, and the visitor passed up a pair 
 of wooden stairs to the roof, where he found Sing Lee, fac- 
 ing the south and softly strumming a small stringed instru- 
 ment. Ching Fo paused to hsten. 
 
 After a short prelude, a voice rose clear and sweet in an 
 old, familiar song: 
 
 " The sun is setting and I loose my boat. 
 And lightly o'er the misty waters float — " 
 
 The verse was not finished, however, for Sing Lee felt 
 the approach of his friend, and, laying the instrument 
 down, arose and bowed very low, saying, 
 
 " The unexpected happens when Ching Fo leaves his 
 own dehghtful home to accept the hospitality of Sing Lee. 
 All is well at the bungalow, I hope." 
 
 " Yes," repHed Ching Fo, " all is well." 
 
 "Art thou fully rested after the joys of the plum- 
 blossom festival? " inquired Sing Lee. 
 
 " Fully," returned Ching Fo, " and ready to resume the 
 duties of the hour. Are the gods good to thee ? " 
 
 " Yes, the gods are good," answered Sing Lee. 
 
 " Music hath charms," remarked Ching Fo, " let us 
 hear a song." 
 
 At which Sing Lee, with a merry twinkle in his eye, 
 sang,^ — 
 
 " You ask me why I greet the priest, but not his god ? 
 The god sits mute, the man, at least returns my. nod." 
 
 " A characteristic prank," remarked Ching Fo, " wilt 
 thou never leave off nonsense.'' I came to consult you 
 upon a serious matter." 
 
42 Ah Moy ^ 
 
 "Very well, then, we shall be serious. Is there some- 
 thing of mutual interest? " 
 
 "Yes," said Ching Fo, "something of interest to all 
 good men. Hast thou not heard how the foreign devils 
 are pushing into the land, and how they intrude their 
 ideas upon us ? " 
 
 " Yes, there is an ever-increasing crop of them, I ad- 
 mit, but we must make the best of it," answered Sing Lee. 
 
 At this Ching Fo scrutinized the face of Sing Lee to 
 see whether it betrayed sympathy with the foreigner. 
 But, seeing nothing, he continued in a careless manner, 
 " Another poem has been added to those already gathered 
 at the festival." 
 
 " Allow me the pleasure of reading it," requested Sing 
 Lee, " perchance the last is best — it sometimes happens 
 so." 
 
 Thus reassured, Ching Fo pulled the obnoxious poem 
 from his sleeve and handed it to his friend, who read it 
 with mingled amusement and surprise. 
 
 " What mountebank has written this ?" he exclaimed as 
 be finished. " It reads like a lay from the ' Beggar's Pa- 
 goda.' Surely the writer cannot boast of his wit, although 
 he has written in the Wenli." 
 
 " No," replied Ching Fo, " but there is danger in it. 
 Such tilings do harm if not looked after. It is against 
 the law of China to put upon paper that which will cause 
 disrespect of ancestral customsl" 
 
 " Yes, yes," answered Sing Lee, " but we all know that 
 there is an effort being made to create sentiment against 
 the practice of foot-binding." 
 
 " What right have they to intrude upon our home life, 
 or to thrust their opinions upon those who do not want 
 them?" 
 
 " Oh, the foreigners are not so much concerned about 
 
'The> plague of girls." 
 
44 Ah Mot 
 
 ethics. They just go ahead with their own ideas and 
 let the consequences fall where they will. But, to tell the 
 truth, I have had some serious misgivings upon the sub- 
 ject of foot-binding, myself — " 
 
 " You do not mean to say that you would have it dis- 
 continued? " demanded Ching Fo in some astonishment. 
 
 " Oh, no," repHed Sing Lee, " I am not ready to say 
 that, but, do you not think that the torture is unneces- 
 sary.? " 
 
 Ching Fo sat in silence for some moments before he re- 
 plied : 
 
 " No ; what we prize in our women is the sacred thought 
 which they hold toward motherhood. If given liberty to 
 run about as much as they wish, their minds might be di- 
 verted from their home-life, and then, slowly but surely, 
 the generations to come would degenerate. Even admit- 
 ting that in some cases women do suffer with their feet, 
 that is less harmful than having their minds filled with 
 frivolity. It is to the custom of foot-binding that we are 
 indebted for the purity and the homestaying habits of our 
 women. We hear much of the worship of women in west- 
 ern countries, but theirs is only the worship of the young 
 and the beautiful. We worship women whose faces have 
 been transfigured by patience and long suffering into 
 good mothers." 
 
 " That is all true," acknowledged Sing Lee, " I am not 
 ready to advise against foot-binding ; but, still, I say that 
 it is very painful, and may some day be considered unnec- 
 essary." 
 
 " In that case," returned Ching Fo, " we shall lose one 
 of the greatest of our moral safeguards." 
 
 For a little longer time the two discussed the disturbing 
 subject, but arrived at no reasonable solution of its value. 
 So Ching Fo returned the paper to his sleeve and went out 
 
A Chinese Gikl 45 
 
 into the moonlit path. As he walked toward his home, 
 he felt a rankling in his heart against all foreigners. 
 Although he had arrived at no definite conclusion about the 
 authorship of the poem, he felt it to be by some outside bar- 
 barian and that it was a blow at cherished institutions. He 
 was carried away by a flood of hate for a race that was not 
 his race and for blood that was not his blood. 
 
 Upon entering his own grounds, he closed the gate 
 with a bang, and, after placing the heavy iron bars across 
 it, he called his wife. That model of obedience made haste 
 to answer, and her husband said with determination in his 
 voice. 
 
 " It is time that the bandages be placed upon the feet 
 of the third daughter. I therefore command thee to have 
 everything done that is customary upon such occasions." 
 
 To his astonishment, for the first time in her life, his 
 wife showed unwillingness to obey his order. At this he 
 demanded of her a full confession of all that she thought, 
 and an explanation of how she had arrived at an opinion 
 so in conflict with the traditions of their ancestors. 
 
 Then the wife timidly confessed that the women of the 
 neighborhood had been talking together of the cruelty of 
 foot-binding and that they had heard of a society formed 
 in Shanghai for the purpose of creating sentiment against 
 the custom. She told him that the ladies who were inter- 
 ested were the wives of men in high positions, and that some 
 of them went to the Buddhist temple to pray and she ex- 
 pressly assured him that they were not missionaries or 
 teachers of any foreign religion. At this juncture, she 
 took from her sleeve a copy of the North China Daily News 
 and pointed out to her liege lord an advertisement, which 
 read: 
 
 " Natural Feet Society. President, Mrs. Drummond : 
 
 " This society has been formed to distribute pamphlets, 
 
46 Ah Mot ^ 
 
 leaflets and pictures, among the Chinese, on the subject of 
 the prevailing practice of foot-binding, to encourage the 
 formation of leagues, and in other ways to influence native 
 opinion. It also proposes to offer, from time to time, 
 prizes for the best Chinese essays on the subject. 
 
 " The ladies of the committee solicit donations of $1 
 and upwards, and also ask all those interested in freeing 
 Chinese women from the bondage of this ctuel custom, to 
 seek out fresh means of distributing literature, whether 
 through the kind assistance of missionaries, or merchants, 
 either foreign or Chinese, or, better still, of personal 
 friends. 
 
 " All ladies willing to help toward the objects of the 
 society, in either of these ways, are requested to send their 
 names to one of the Shanghai secretaries, to be enrolled 
 as associates. It is hoped that in all the out-ports, local 
 committees may shortly be formed, and that in this way 
 foreign women residing in China may be found united in 
 doing what they can to save little girls from the torture 
 of a custom that has nothing to recommend it save that 
 it is the custom. The co-operation of Chinese ladies will 
 be still more gladly welcomed. 
 
 " The object being to uproot a fashion, rather than to 
 combat a principle, it is especially hoped that ladies will, 
 as far as possible, act on their own initiative, each doing 
 what she can in her own immediate circle, without waiting 
 for instructions from the committee, but acting as she 
 thinks best to advance the aim of the society, remembering 
 that a fashion like foot-binding, which is not based upon 
 reason, is quite as Hkely to be overturned by an appeal to 
 good taste or good feeling as by the most learned of argu- 
 ments." 
 
 The names of the ladies who formed the committee were 
 signed. 
 
A Chinese Giel 47 
 
 When Ching Fo had finished reading this paper, he 
 glared at his wife in angry amazement, but before he could 
 find words to express his indignation, she said: — 
 
 " I have hobbled all my life on crippled feet and I would 
 that I might save our youngest daughter from the torture. 
 I understand that from your decision there is no appeal, 
 and that it were madness to think of disobeying your or- 
 ders ; but I most sincerely request that you consider the 
 matter a little further. It may be that we have come to 
 a new era when the torture of our female children can be 
 omitted." 
 
 Ching Fo listened to her longer than she had expected. 
 He even weighed her words carefully, but finally said : — 
 
 " I have seen the foreign women in Shanghai tramping 
 about like men, and I know that their ideas of propriety 
 are very far from the Chinese standard. Their feet are 
 large, and their dresses are drawn in at the waist in a way 
 that would make a Chinese woman blush. Some of the 
 best of them have been obliged to modify their apparel 
 before an introduction to Chinese ladies. Women who de- 
 form their waists and expose their necks are not in a posi- 
 tion to offer advice to us." 
 
 " No. But it does not necessarily follow that our little 
 daughter would become immodest because she had natural 
 feet," said the mother. 
 
 " When women can run about, they are in danger of 
 falling into bad habits ; then comes neglect of duties and 
 disobedience to husbands, and then the foundation of the 
 home is in danger. Women are not strong-minded enough 
 to take care of themselves, and it is necessary that men 
 should regulate their lives for them. Women are honored 
 for their virtues and not because they can tramp about like 
 men," replied Ching Fo. 
 
 Then, taking a copy of the Confucian Cod^, he read : 
 
48 Ah Moy 
 
 • 
 
 " A woman requires no extraordinary talent ; her coun- 
 tenance requires no exquisite beauty; her words require 
 no fluent hps; her labor requires no high degree of dex- 
 terity. Let her be chaste, modest, innocent, sober, and 
 economical. Let her preserve her modesty and choose her 
 words. This constitutes female virtue." 
 
 " The binding of the feet," continued he, " is calcu- 
 lated to enhance all these charms. Suffering is the price 
 of a subjugated will, and women must be kept in subjuga- 
 tion. Remember that the third daughter has in her keep- 
 ing the welfare of a new generation and all that makes for 
 its good must be fostered. What would Ting Ho say 
 when he comes to manhood, to find that his betrothed 
 had large feet.? It would not do. So now I command 
 thee to have the bandages placed on the feet of Ah Moy, 
 number three, to-morrow morning." 
 
 " It shall be done," said the mother, and she sorrowfully 
 limped from the room. 
 
 Soon after she was gone. Ah Fat came in and the sub- 
 ject of foot-binding again came under discussion. 
 
 " Yes," he said, " I have seen the poem sent out by the 
 anti-foot-binding society and I rather like it. I believe 
 they are working in a way to do good. I have no daugh- 
 ters, but if I had, I think I should have them unbound. 
 The custom causes great suffering, and I see no reason 
 why women may not be good wives, with natural feet. I 
 have heard it said that some of the mission schools, where 
 the experiment has been tried, find it diflScult to get hus- 
 bands for their girls ; but let them try it. This new anti- 
 foot-binding society is working in a way to make friends. 
 They write poems and conform to Chinese etiquette." 
 
 "But," remonstrated Ching Fo, "you must remember 
 that in a great majority of cases the family life of the 
 Chinese is happy, and that the Chinese mother is the 
 
A Chinese Giel 
 
 49 
 
 best of mothers. Would she continue to be so If she were 
 allowed to run about wherever she pleased? " 
 
 "Yes," repUed Ah Fat, "I think she would. The 
 woman has the interest of her family at heart, as much as 
 her husband has, and she has sorrows enough without our 
 inflicting this one. But," he added pleasantly, " a daugh- 
 terless man's opinion is of little value, and, after all, each 
 of us must act in accordance with his own judgment." 
 
 So they changed the subject of conversation, and sipped 
 tea until the hour of the rat, when, by the light of the 
 moon, Ah Fat took his rikisha for home. 
 
VI 
 
 AH MOY submitted to the process of foot-binding 
 without a protest. Obedience, repression of emo- 
 tion, and a strange indifference to physical pain, were in- 
 heritances bequeathed to her from uncounted generations 
 of ancestors. 
 
 Bandages, two and a half yards long, by two inches 
 wide, were drawn around her feet, in such a way as to force 
 all the toes, except the large one, under the soles. Twice 
 a day and for many weeks, they were tightened, each time 
 driving her toes further under, until they came peeping 
 out on the inside of her instep. For the first year her 
 nurse thought the muscles would yield to the pressure 
 and retain their new shape, but poor little Ah Moy's feet 
 had more than their share of elasticity in them, and every 
 time the bandages were taken off, the muscles sprang back 
 to their natural position, until, finally, it became necessary 
 to break the bones. After this was done and additional 
 straps and bandages fastened around the instep, the toes 
 kept their place. But in a few days they became so 
 swollen and painful that Ah Moy sat crying in her room 
 all day long. Her little sleeve-dog gave her no more 
 pleasure, and she had to hang her feet over the foot board 
 of her bed so as to deaden the pain. Her father came and 
 gave her opium and commanded her to move about ; but 
 her sufferings had gone to a point where she could no 
 longer obey.* Under her eyes came the great black lines 
 
 * The Italian Mother-Superior at Han Kow told the author of 
 this book that, with the best of care, many of the girls died during 
 the ordeal of foot-binding. 
 
 50 
 
A Chinese Giel 61 
 
 and into her face came that curious shade of yellow that 
 is never seen except in connection with foot-binding. 
 
 Ching Fo and his wife both thought that more than 
 likely the third daughter would die under the ordeal. She 
 wasted to a skeleton, and gangrene tore off great pieces of 
 her flesh. Blood-poison spread through her system, and 
 fever painted scarlet patches on her cheek. 
 
 But the God of Fate had it written in his book that Ah 
 Moy was not yet to die, so at last he sent the spirit of heal- 
 ing to brood over her, and after three years of suffering 
 the worst was over. The color came back to her face ; she 
 again found pleasure in insect music and the song of birds ; 
 she heard the sighing of the pines and saw the shadow 
 of the clouds, as they threw dark patches on the moun- 
 tain side. And, strange, oh, passing strange, the refine- 
 ment of torture through which she had passed left upon her 
 an irresistible charm, — a charm which comes only to those 
 who have suffered to the point of breaking. Ching Fo 
 saw it, and called the attention of his wife to the soft lines 
 of beauty that had been wrought in their daughter's face. 
 
 " It is the subtle charm of the little-foot woman," said 
 he. 
 
 " Yes, yes," replied his wife, " she is very beautiful. 
 Sing Lee's family will, no doubt, be very proud of her." 
 
 " We must now look to her education," said the father, 
 " she must learn to chant the Buddhist prayers, to em- 
 broider and even to make short rhymes ; for, although 
 women are not supposed to add much to poetry, it is very 
 becoming in them to compose verses." 
 
 Thus a new era began for Ah Moy. She learned to 
 drone her prayers for hours each day; she embroidered 
 butterflies and lotus-leaves, and entered into happy little 
 contests with her father in verse-making. On one occa- 
 sion, when she had gone with him for a walk, he was sur- 
 
52 Ah Moy 
 
 prised to hear her compose a verse which even to his trained 
 ear sounded well. 
 
 " Father," she said, " this place is so dehghtful that I 
 feel as though I could compose a poem in its honor." 
 
 " Mayhap, if the bird sings in thine own heart, It augurs 
 a son who shall be a poet," said her father, at which she 
 turned her face away from him and repeated, 
 
 " A butterfly bright, on the lotus is resting, 
 A bird in the shade of the rushes is nesting, 
 A cloud throws a shadow on father and daughter 
 And away goes my verse on the swift running water." 
 
 " Well done, Ah Moy. Hadst thou been a boy, I should 
 have expected great things of thee. Canst thou repeat 
 something from one of the ancient classics.'' " 
 
 " Shall I repeat the poem about the young man whose 
 father died, and left him so lonely, when he was young.? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " Yes, if you can do it well," replied the father. 
 
 But when she tried to begin her eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " Oh, father, it is so sad," she exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes," assented the father, " I remember the poem. 
 It was written more than two thousand years ago by Liu 
 Heng. But it is still a favorite with many. If you can 
 remember it, I should like very much to hear it." 
 
 Ah Moy then turned her face away and recited each 
 verse correctly. 
 
 " I look up and the curtains are there, as of yore, 
 I look down, and there is the mat on the floor. 
 These things I behold, but the man is no more. 
 To the infinite azure his spirit has flown. 
 And I am left friendless, uncared for, alone, 
 Of solace bereft, save to weep and to moan. 
 
A Chinese Giel 53 
 
 The deer on the hillside caressingly bleat, 
 
 And offer the grass for their young ones to eat. 
 
 While birds of the air to their nestlings bring meat, 
 
 But I, a poor orphan must ever remain, 
 
 My heart still so sad and all burdened with pain, 
 
 Por him I shall never see coming again. 
 
 'Tis a well-worn old saying, which all men allow, 
 
 * That grief stamps the deepest of lines on the brow.' 
 
 Alas, see my hair ! It is silvered now. 
 
 Alas for my father, cut off In his pride ! 
 
 Alas, that no more I may stand by his side. 
 
 Oh, where were the gods, when that noble man died? " 
 
 Ching Fo was so pleased to hear her repeat the whole 
 poem without a mistake, and with so much feeling, that 
 he pressed her little brown hand to his face, at which Ah 
 Moy begged him to tell her a story, or repeat a verse. 
 
 So he sat down beside her and asked If she had not 
 been learning to weave on her mother's hand-loom that 
 day. 
 
 " Yes, father, I have unwound a cocoon of the wild silk- 
 worm and woven it into cloth. But mamma says that I 
 must not yet attempt the fine silk of our own cocoonery." 
 
 " Then I shall tell you about the star, Vega, which is 
 personified in Chinese literature as a woman engaged in 
 weaving silk," said her father. " Vega is a brilliant white 
 star in the constellation called Lyra, and, on the seventh 
 day of the seventh month of each year, the heavenly weaver 
 leaves her loom and crosses over the milky way and comes 
 in conjunction with another brilliant star, called the ' Bull- 
 driver,' and together they throw out their most splendid 
 rays. The story typifies the earthly marriage which has 
 for its object the high duty of parenthood. When you 
 are older you will know that China has withstood the 
 
54 Ah Moy 
 
 • 
 shocks and ravages of time better than any other nation, 
 and that this is greatly due to the industry and home- 
 staying quahties of the mothers. Do you understand my 
 meaning, daughter? " 
 
 " Yes, father dear, my mother and the nuns at the mon- 
 astery have often told me that the welfare of the home 
 lies in the hands of the women. But I think the story of 
 the heavenly-weaver the most beautiful one I have ever 
 heard." 
 
 Such confidences made Ah Moy and her father very 
 dear to each other. She knew that she was betrothed to 
 Ting Ho, and that she would owe to his family her un- 
 tiring service ; but she had never seen her future husband, 
 and her heart was every bit her father's. Her brother 
 was now old enough to tyrannize over her and in many 
 ways to command her. She had learned to treat him with 
 ceremonious respect, never preceding him into a room nor 
 partaking of food until he had been served; but in her 
 heart of hearts she felt that hers was a higher mission in 
 life than his. She felt that he represented the ancestral 
 tombs, while she represented the children to be bom, and 
 in fancy she could hear their voices ever counseling her to 
 be faithful to all the customs of their native land. 
 
 Her sisters were now preparing their wedding garments, 
 for they had, like herself, been betrothed in childhood. 
 Ah Moy, number one, had been betrothed by a go-between 
 to a young man who lived in another province. Aside 
 from ascertaining that he belonged to a good family,, 
 Ching Fo knew little about him; how cruel and exacting 
 he might be, there was no means of knowing. Neither did 
 it seem a matter of great moment to him. The marriage 
 was in the interest of the two families, and this was the 
 only thing to be considered. " You must have no opinions 
 of your own," the father told his girls, " it is the duty of 
 
A Chinese Girl 55 
 
 daughters-in-law to serve the families that adopt them. 
 Among your wedding-gifts will be the customary bottle 
 of poison, with which to end your life, if it becomes un- 
 bearable; that is the only proper release from earthly 
 troubles. It is an honorable discharge, and does not dis- 
 grace your parents." 
 
 The girls understood. They knew that the new home 
 to which they were going was for better or worse, with no 
 appeal except through death. But even so, they were 
 very happy. No knowledge had they of privileges or 
 rights ; no spirit of selfishness had ever entered the calm 
 repose of their minds. Their wedding garments were all 
 cut precisely alike, the only variation being in the decora- 
 tion. Some were embroidered in butterflies and bamboo 
 leaves, some with dragons and lotus flowers, interspersed 
 with the ever present plum-blossoms. Twenty pairs of 
 shoes, twenty pairs of linen trousers, two wedding dresses, 
 silk bedquilts and curtains, lacquer vases and porcelain 
 bowls, all made in the same style as those of foremothers 
 for a thousand years past, were the essentials of their outfit. 
 Tedious and tiresome, and for many days, the work had 
 continued ; but at last the preparations were complete, and 
 the servants were detailed to take the eldest daughter to the 
 home of her husband. 
 
 Before she could depart, however, Chinese etiquette de- 
 manded that she should lament for a week, moaning and 
 weeping aloud, because she was about to leave her father's 
 house and take up her abode among strangers. It was 
 hard for the happy girl to lie face downwards and keep 
 up the semblance of sorrow; but it was not in the Ching 
 Fo blood to omit any of the ancestral usages, so she tore 
 her hair and assumed a sad expression. Each day found 
 her crying, with eyes made red with vermilion, and utter- 
 ing words of endearment for her family and friends. 
 
56 Ah Mot 
 
 The new home to which she was going was, as yet, a 
 far-ofF picture, which she saw only darkly. She knew 
 that she was leaving her father's house to enter a family 
 whose ancestral line was as jealously guarded as her own; 
 but she had no idea of what the change might mean; so 
 she cried, according to rule, until the appointed day, then 
 smilingly took formal leave of the parental roof. 
 
 Beside her four chair-bearers, she was accompanied by 
 two lantern-bearers, two men to run ahead, and six riki- 
 shas laden with her effects. She was very timid, for she 
 had never been away from her home before; but she bore 
 up bravely and " kept the face " as a woman should do. 
 The etiquette of the occasion demanded that she neither 
 speak nor partake of food during the journey, so she 
 sat tired and hungry for many an hour while her servants 
 rested, or slept in the shade of wayside trees. 
 
 After two days she arrived at the house of her hus- 
 band's family and found the incense sticks lit, the 
 parents-in-law in their best clothes, and a feast prepared 
 for many guests. No lover's greeting, however, was in 
 store for her, nor any kindly act to relieve her fatigue. 
 Her duty was to wait outside until the door was thrown 
 open, then take her place beside her. mother-in-law and 
 solemnly perform her duties. The guests came in swarms 
 and she bowed to each according to the prescribed rules. 
 Sneering remarks about her feet and her clothes were made, 
 but brought no frown upon her placid brow, and when 
 some one threw straw upon her glossy hair, she bore it 
 so patiently that the family "was much pleased. For three 
 days the festivities continued, during which time the bride 
 was not permitted to leave her post of duty; but on the 
 fourth day she was formally given to her liege lord, whom 
 she now beheld for the first time. In appearance he was 
 far from what she had hoped, yet she received him with 
 
A Chinese Gibl 
 
 57 
 
 the calm exterior of a well-bred Chinese woman and went 
 about her work as uncomplainingly as though she had 
 selected her husband for herself. 
 
 Two years after this, the wedding of Ah Moy Number 
 Two occurred. Like her sister, she had been betrothed by 
 a go-between and went a long way from home. 
 
 Notwithstanding there had been no rain for several 
 months, and money was becoming scarce, the same elab- 
 orate preparations took place in Ching Fo's house that had 
 taken place for Ah Moy, number one. Presents were ex- 
 changed; parental advice given; the bottle of poison put 
 carefully where it could be reached — in case of need, — 
 and for a week preceding her departure the weeping and 
 wailing had been performed. 
 
VII 
 
 i ij ET us wait before giving the third daughter in mar- 
 J— i riage," said Ching Fo's wife to him one day. 
 " She is young and the signs point to a period of dis- 
 tress." 
 
 " No," rephed Ching Fo, " first consideration must be 
 given to the great things of life, and the great things 
 are the settHng of the domestic relations." 
 
 " But if the drouth should continue ? " questioned she, 
 with womanly anxiety ; " there are ugly rumors of famine 
 disturbing the neighborhood." 
 
 " If the drouth continues," the husband answered, " we 
 shall bear it, I hope, as patiently as did our ancestors. 
 Drouths have always come and gone. If this one con- 
 tinues, why then, it continues ; but it is not well to in- 
 vite it. Speculation upon misfortune is an invitation for 
 it to come." The wife said no more, and with the help 
 of the youngest daughter they continued to make the 
 pretty clothes for her wedding and to lay them away in 
 readiness for the day of her going forth. 
 
 In spite of his habitual composure, however, anxious 
 lines crept across Ching Fo's forehead. His rice-fields, 
 that were wont to look so beautiful and green beneath the 
 summer sun, were now parched and brown, and the harvest 
 was withering beyond recovery. Mile after mile of the 
 marvelous purple that characterizes the arid atmosphere 
 quivered in the air, and the mountains became apparitions 
 that angled up to meet the unfailing blue of the sky. 
 Occasionally, at mid-day, a high cloud lay motionless 
 
 68 
 
A Chinese Giel 59 
 
 above a phantom peak, but it was the wool-white cloud that 
 throws no water down. All this Ching Fo saw with the 
 feeling that a crisis hung over him. For days at a time 
 a psychic strain seemed to foreshadow misfortune. His 
 wife and his third daughter watched anxiously for the 
 cheerfulness that usually characterized the father's deport- 
 ment ; but things grew worse instead of better. 
 
 Rumors of foreign war ships gathering in the ports 
 spread over the country, and as Ching Fo looked away 
 into the purple mist, he saw a new apparition take its place 
 beside the one called Drouth, an apparition no less terrible, 
 whose name was War. 
 
 From time immemorial, the evil spirit that dwells in 
 foreign affairs had spread dismay among the people, and 
 now it threatened to tear asunder the nation. Ching Fo 
 seldom mentioned such things to the women of the house- 
 hold ; but he felt bound to explain to them now that noth- 
 ing could be so fraught with harm as to have the quiet of 
 their home broken into by a swarm of foreign soldiers. 
 Not much of this could Ah Moy understand ; she thought 
 that a few men might have to be sacrificed and a few homes 
 bereft of their sons, but beyond that the fears of her 
 father were meaningless to her and failed to arouse any- 
 thing more than a ripple on the smooth surface of her 
 life. She continued the preparations for her wedding, 
 and, when the week of lamentation arrived, with a pious 
 sense of duty she laid aside her work and assumed the 
 garb of sorrow. 
 
 " I would not disgrace my family," she said, " by ap- 
 pearing happy at leaving home." 
 
 So with loud moaning and crying, she lay face down- 
 ward on the bed and repeated, as her sisters had done, 
 " Oh, dear, I am so sad because I am about to leave my 
 father and mother and go to a new home. Oh, dear, I 
 
60 Ah Moy 
 
 must now leave my father and my mother and go to the 
 home of my husband ! " 
 
 But the God of Fate had it written in his book that the 
 third daughter should not be married. 
 
 " And having writ, moved on — 
 And not her piety nor wit 
 Could lure him back to cancel half a line, 
 Nor all her tears wash out one word of it." 
 
 The happy days of lamentation, during which she cried 
 outwardly but inwardly was full of joy, brought not the 
 wedding-day, for Ten Wang had already turned the river 
 of her life into quite another channel. 
 
 Shut in from the outside world, and her time filled with 
 pleasant duties, the bride-to-be had no conception of the 
 fact that over China a storm gathered which would shake 
 it to the very center. A more prophetic ear than hers 
 might have heard the rumbling and a more prophetic eye 
 might have seen the darkness that was settling over the 
 land; but the third daughter's heart kept the even tenor 
 of its way until the last day of the lamentations, when a 
 sudden crash came out of the blue that turned her little 
 world all upside down. 
 
 Sing Lee was the first to bring the news and inform 
 Ching Fo that his son, who was so soon to be a bride- 
 groom, had been called out to fight for his country. 
 
 " Pandemonium is loose," he said, as he sUpped into a 
 chair, "and the Righteous Defenders (Boxers) are pre- 
 paring for an active campaign. The foreigners are 
 again trying to pluck us as a housewife plucks a goose, and 
 we must drive them back." 
 
 " I feared it, I feared it," said Ching Fo, trembling with 
 emotion, " on the Yang-tse-Kiang, it is the EngHsh, to the 
 
A Chinese Giel 61 
 
 north, it is the Russian, while on the coast it is the Ger- 
 mans." At this he groaned aloud and added, " We can- 
 not endure it, we cannot endure it ! " 
 
 " It is useless for us to tell the foreigners that what the 
 western world calls prosperity has no resemblance to our 
 own ideas on that subject; it is useless to tell them that we 
 do not wish to enter the turmoil of the world. They can- 
 not appreciate our love for seclusion, and reverence for 
 ancient customs." 
 
 At this moment. Ah Fat arrived and informed the two 
 men that the Righteous Defenders * were gathering in the 
 neighborhood, and that, as they came to the rescue of the 
 country without compensation, they must be fed and, if 
 need be, clothed. 
 
 As this phase of the case came into Ching Fo's con- 
 sciousness, he sprang quickly from his chair and went into 
 the open court, for now it was a case in which the women 
 must be consulted. The amount of food which they could 
 contribute, and the number of charms and bandages which 
 they could prepare, were questions which belonged strictly 
 to their department. As he turned toward the kitchen, he 
 saw that the street was full of wild-eyed runners and that 
 every one appeared to be in a state of madness. Gentle- 
 men were shouting to get themselves carried hither and 
 thither, and the poor coolie, finding himself belabored on 
 every hand, poured into the din a constant jabber of 
 dialect. 
 
 At the back-gate of the bungalow, frightened females 
 were holding such counsel of war as only women can. The 
 wife of Sing Lee had been among the first to arrive and had 
 informed Mrs. Ching Fo of her son's response to the call 
 
 * The Righteous Defenders are a body of young men called in 
 China, " Society-Men," who meet in secret, to watch and if necessary 
 to protect the homes and the ancient tombs. 
 
62 Ah Moy 
 
 • 
 
 of the Righteous Defenders. This meant, of course, that 
 the young folks must wait for a more auspicious time for 
 their wedding. Ah Moy was still lamenting, when her 
 mother called her to come and hear what her prospective 
 mother-in-law had to say. Before she could make herself 
 presentable, however, a dozen more women had invaded the 
 kitchen and were expressing' their opinions concerning the 
 uprising. 
 
 " It is all the missionaries," said one woman, " they 
 have made the spirits angry. Do you know they sell coal 
 oil to be used in the lamps? Everybody knows that our 
 ancestors never used anything but nut oil on the shrines." 
 
 " Yes," said Lee Loy, " and the missionaries build their 
 houses without any regard to the Wind god. That is an- 
 other thing that makes the spirits angry." 
 
 Just then a wrinkled old woman was helped to her feet 
 and gave it as her opinion that there were worse things 
 than the missionaries or the coal oil. " The railroads are 
 creeping into the country, and they do say that they lay 
 their foundations on children's bones ! " 
 
 " Yes," cried another of these wise ones, " and they do 
 say that the foreign devils use children's eyes in making 
 their medicines." 
 
 Then Mrs. Ching Fo added fuel to the fire by remark- 
 ing that the foreign Bible commanded men to leave father 
 and mother and follow Christ, " which, as you all know, is 
 in direct conflict with the teaching of Confucius. It is 
 against the custom of the country for sons to leave their 
 parents." 
 
 This speech produced such a storm of disapprobation 
 that when Ching Fo appeared on the scene, he could not 
 make himself heard at all. He stood for some moments 
 waiting for the babble to cease ; then took the wonder-eyed 
 Ah Moy by the hand and returned to the front room. 
 
A Chinese Gikl 63 
 
 " The women are swarming," he said, " and I was not 
 able to get a hearing. When they settle down a little, 
 I will go back and see what can be done about food." 
 
 So chattered the women and so argued the men, and 
 so gathered the storm which was about to break over their 
 defenseless heads. The third daughter listened and tried 
 to grasp the meaning of what she saw and heard; tried to 
 understand why the men stood in knots on the streets and 
 why the faces of the women were pallid with fear. As she 
 saw the fire creep into the calm eye of her father, a great 
 desire seized her to become a part of the wild ocean that 
 was lashing itself into foam. If martyrs were needed, why 
 might she not be one? 
 
 When a lull in the conversation gave her an opportunity, 
 she whispered into the ear of her father her desire to help 
 her country. But her patriotism received a check when 
 he answered, 
 
 " A httle-foot girl can do nothing. You must wait." 
 
 At which Ah Moy glanced down at her crippled feet 
 and replied: 
 
 " Yes, I see, I can do nothing but wait." 
 
 It was noon before any definite, plans had been fixed 
 upon, and the women had been induced to set about pre- 
 paring food for the Righteous Defenders ; but when once 
 ■commenced their work went bravely on. Kettles of fluffy 
 rice stood in long rows and pans of dried mushrooms, with 
 inviting squares of pork, simmered over the fire. Band- 
 ages with which to wind the legs were prepared, and many 
 a good luck sign was stitched upon blouse and shoes. 
 After the women were at work the men congregated at 
 " The Hall of the Holy Country " to further discuss the 
 situation and to devise ways and means for the advance- 
 ment of their cause. Patriotic pictures were hung on the 
 walls of the room, and mottoes selected from the writings 
 
64 Ah Moy ^ 
 
 of Chinese sages were repeated, or written by skilful 
 hands on the doors and lintels. The Righteous Defenders 
 gathered in long lines to practice their mysterious drills 
 and to turn their faces to the north for courage and to the 
 east for spiritual enlightenment. They also invoked the 
 gods and the spirits of their ancestors. Ting Ho, the be- 
 trothed of Ah Moy, number three, was with them, the em- 
 bodiment of a superstitious Chinaman, calm, head erect, 
 ceremoniously polite, without a flicker of emotion in his 
 black eyes, although he had sprung from home and wed- 
 ding feast into the welter of war. On his blouse was 
 embroidered that great symbol of purity, the lotus. 
 Placed there by a virtuous mother, he held it as a sacred 
 trust, and as security that no evil-desire should enter his 
 soul. As he marched around the hall in line with his com- 
 rades, he lit an incense stick and reverently placed it in 
 the ashes before the White Tiger, then wheeled and stood 
 erect beside his companions-in-arms. 
 
 As the evening advanced, the old men came in, one by 
 one, to give counsel and speak words of encouragement. 
 Leaning heavily upon a walking stick. Tin Sing, a man of 
 great age, pointed to . a motto on the wall, which read, 
 " The strong shall not prevail," and in courteous language 
 called the attention of the young soldiers to the fact that 
 they were members of an ancient order, which had from 
 time immemorial sprung to the defense of the country in 
 time of need. He reminded them that only men of un- 
 spotted reputation were eligible to their ranks, and urged 
 them to remember that they were protected by the gods. 
 
 " It is," said he, " one of the oldest "traditions of China 
 that the weak may overthrow the strong. You are not 
 training for public audiences or for display, but for a sys- 
 tem of selfrdefense, in the most exact sense of the term. If 
 
A Chinese Giel 65 
 
 you are true, there will come a power from Heaven to 
 turn away the bullets of your adversaries. The gods are 
 with you, and you need not fear. We look to you for 
 protection against an enemy who comes to despoil us of 
 our homes. It is armed with prodigious weapons of de- 
 struction, but you have recourse to a higher power." 
 
 When he had finished speaking, the young soldiers 
 bowed, retreated three steps and bowed again, then wheeled 
 and assumed a respectful attitude toward Ching Fo, who 
 now began to speak. His voice came forth in the gentle 
 tones of a man of sorrow ; he disclaimed the honorable years 
 and the eloquence of the distinguished man who had pre- 
 ceded him, but he arose to call the attention of the 
 Righteous Defenders to the fact that concessions granted 
 to foreigners, either for purposes of trade or for religious 
 propaganda, had always resulted in the setting up by the 
 newcomers of claims adverse to the wishes of the Chinese 
 people. 
 
 " China," declared he, " has no need of the outside 
 world. When once the reins are relaxed and the Western 
 civilization established in our land, the end is in sight. 
 Our people cannot make a living under the foreigners'' 
 system. The labor-saving machines, of which they boast 
 so much, are not suited to our needs. Our country is too 
 densely populated to make use of steam and electricity. 
 It has already come to pass," exclaimed he, raising his 
 voice, " that the cotton mills of Shanghai, which are owned 
 and operated by Englishmen, have flooded the market with 
 goods which are sold at prices below those of our home 
 weavers, and the result is that, in some cases, the little 
 hand-looms of the women are idle and the workers are dying 
 of hunger. But these facts are nothing to the foreign 
 devil who wishes to establish himself in our country. It 
 
66 Ah Moy 
 
 must come that we shall drive the horde of intruders 
 back." 
 
 Following him, Ah Fat made a short but eloquent ad- 
 dress. He quoted the words of the sage who said: 
 
 " All the black-haired men are brethren, and they shall 
 prevail against the barbarians who come from other lands. 
 Destiny has watched over you and prepared you for this 
 day. The God of War is with you, and you may com- 
 mand the hosts of heaven. Let them thunder, with their 
 death-dealing inventions! Yours is the greater force! 
 Consider only this, — that a holy cause confronts a huge 
 and many-tongued intruder, who will, if not driven back, 
 despoil us of our homes." 
 
 When he had concluded, the Righteous Defenders again 
 bowed, and marched around the building, placing incense- 
 sticks before each mystic shrine ; then passed out in single 
 file to the place assigned them for the night. 
 
 Poor Ting Ho, the son to whom his father looked for 
 support in his declining years, was even now fading from 
 sight. Ignorant of the outer world, and with the super- 
 stitions of his ancestors strong upon him, he fearlessly 
 took up his country's cause, depending upon the spirits of 
 his ancestors to protect him against an enemy equipped 
 with modern shot and shell. 
 
 For a few days the women worked busily to prepare such 
 articles as would be of use to the men on their march; 
 money was contributed, and a few old guns were collected. 
 Ah Moy's willing hands helped with the clothing and other 
 accessories of the soldier's kit, and then she stood with the 
 married women and watched her betrothed march away. 
 
 A few tears shed in solitude, a little poem to commem- 
 morate the heroism of Ting Ho, and a perceptible shadow 
 in her dark eyes, were all that told the story of the third 
 daughter's wedding, for she was too well-grounded in 
 
A Chinese Girl 
 
 67 
 
 Chinese etiquette to exhibit any outward signs of grief or 
 sorrow.* 
 
 " Duty," she said to her father, " is the first law of 
 Buddha, and I am content to leave events with heaven." 
 
 She had not even been permitted to feel the thrill of 
 her lover's hand, as he passed her father's gate to join 
 the main army, which lay two hundred miles away. 
 
 * In the literature of China, heroines are seldom depicted as 
 charmers of men, or as languishing for love, but rather as obedient 
 daughters who are willing to sacrifice their lives for duty. 
 
VIII 
 
 AFTER the excitement attendant upon the uprising 
 of the Righteous Defenders was over, Ching Fo 
 turned his attention to the drouth, which was now bearing 
 down upon him with all the fury of an angry god. He 
 consulted an astrologer and learned from him that the 
 planets prognosticated plagues, and other occurrences, 
 which bring distress upon men. This so alarmed him that 
 he lighted fires of camomile and wormwood before his house, 
 and contributed much of his reserve supplies to the poor. 
 He looked anxiously upon his wife and third daughter, 
 knowing full well that if they should be obliged to flee 
 to a more favorable locality their crippled feet would place 
 them at a great disadvantage. In this state of anxiety a 
 month slipped away, but still there was no rain. The 
 priests, seeing the need of assuaging the fears of the peo- 
 ple, had appointed a festival to the rain god. Ah Moy's 
 nimble fingers were the first to begin sewing together the 
 many-colored pieces of silk with which to honor the great 
 Dragon. This work occupied the women of the neigh- 
 borhood for several days. When all was ready, a party 
 of coolies came down the hill bearing an odd skeleton, made 
 of hoops and bamboo and pumpkin eyes, over which the 
 silken skin was drawn. From the godown Ching Fo 
 brought paint : red, green, and yellow, with which to touch 
 claws and eyes and gills, and when it was finished the rain 
 Dragon was one riotous glare of color. 
 
 As the pious laborers raised it to their shoulders, Ah 
 Moy felt sure that the drouth would now be broken, but 
 
 68 
 
A Chinese Giel 69 
 
 although the festival lasted several days, no sign of rain 
 appeared, and the priests decided upon a crusade through 
 the famine-stricken district. To this pilgrimage Ching 
 Fo contributed his much-beloved son, who, with two hun- 
 dred other lads, repaired to the temple to pray and scourge 
 themselves in preparation for the event. They wore ashen- 
 colored garments, fastened with yellow sashes, in the ends 
 of which were points of iron, to strike against their legs 
 and keep the wounds already made open and bleeding. 
 Incense and magnificent banners of silk and gold were 
 carried before the procession, and their entrance into each 
 village was welcomed by the ringing of bells and the burn- 
 ing of paper money. As they passed from place to place, 
 the people vied with each other in works of charity and 
 good-will; gold and precious stones were contributed to 
 the priests in such quantity that they became a burden. 
 For forty days the crusaders kept moving throughout the 
 province, praying and casting out devils ; but the sky 
 remained as blue and the sun shone as fiercely as when they 
 started. 
 
 The question of food along their line of march was al- 
 ready acute, and the stench of dead bodies arose from 
 many houses. The scarcity of water was augmented by 
 reports that some of the springs had been poisoned, and, 
 taking it all in all, the crusade was abandoned. 
 
 By this time Ching Fo's estate had suffered greatly 
 from the horde of Righteous Defenders, who, unfed, un- 
 paid, but strong in the faith that it was their mission to 
 save China, went swarming over the land, consuming what- 
 soever they could find to support life. 
 
 Ah Moy waited in primitive fashion for news of her 
 lover, — but she had no possible means of knowing what 
 had befallen him. Stories of the awful instruments of de- 
 struction that the foreign devils knew how to use, some- 
 
70 Ah Moy 
 
 times reached her ears, and stories of battles, in which 
 many of the defenders had been killed, crept from house to 
 house. 
 
 In this way, the days slipped by, and stiU there were no 
 signs of rain. Time and time again, had Ching Fo 
 yielded up the food that he had reserved for his own 
 family, and time and time again had he divided his sup- 
 plies with his suffering neighbors, until now he was con- 
 vinced that, in order to save the lives of his wife and chil- 
 dren, he must flee from his famine-stricken home. To do 
 so, the open road was his only resort. The water in the 
 creek was too low to admit of using a boat; his money 
 was gone and his servants had long since been permitted to 
 scatter, in order, if possible, to save themselves from star- 
 vation. 
 
 His son had returned from the crusade discouraged and 
 suspicious, and everything seemed to indicate that great 
 trouble was in store for Ching Fo and his family. In the 
 rarefied air, the mirage shimmered in horrid mockery of 
 water, and the softest gauze lay fairy-like over the gaunt 
 wolf of hunger and despair. 
 
 The father now called his wife and explained to her that 
 their only hope was to flee from their home and go out in 
 search of a more favored locality. 
 
 " Most of our neighbors have already gone," he said, 
 " and it is hoping against hope for us to remain here 
 longer, so now I command you to prepare for the journey. 
 Gather into bundles a change of raiment and a few utensils 
 for cooking, and let us start as soon as possible." 
 
 No time was left to ponder over the case, for " He who 
 feeds the ravens " had not fed them that morning. It was 
 a trying hour for Ching Fo, for he saw not only his starv- 
 ing family, but he felt what unsuspected dens of doubt 
 
A Chinese Girl 71 
 
 were lurking in his own heart. As he beheld the scene of 
 desolation about him, there seemed to him no God, no jus- 
 tice, no hope. Neither the young nor the old, neither the 
 brave nor the beautiful, were spared, and he questioned 
 how worthy of worship was He who permitted such things 
 to be. Ah Moy noticed the agony in her father's face and 
 clasped him in her arms, while, for one brief moment, their 
 tears mingled. 
 
 Ching Fo clothed himself for the journey in a heavy silk 
 tunic, with strong hnen trousers. Under the tunic he 
 buckled a girdle to which was attached his tobacco pouch 
 and a pocket for money, both of which were pathetically 
 empty. On his right side, in a leather shield, he fastened 
 a knife, which was a family heirloom. Could it have 
 spoken, it might have told of savage heroism practised 
 in the past, — a heroism that feared not to spiU blood, 
 if occasion required it. Even little Ah Moy knew the 
 etiquette of the Oriental suicide down to its minutest detail. 
 
 Ching Fo drew the knife from its case and tested its 
 edge, and, as he did so, there came into his face an ex- 
 pression of great firmness. At this moment, his son, 
 dressed for the journey, entered and took his place beside 
 his father, and, when the women came, they were ready 
 for the start. 
 
 With lowered head, as one who sees not, but goes for- 
 ward only because he must, Ching Fo turned into the path 
 which led toward the old King Shang monastery. Lead- 
 ing his family out of a famine-stricken province, with no 
 recourse to modern methods, was a repetition of what his 
 ancestors had done in generations long since dead. And 
 so Ching Fo wished it to continue. Steam and electricity 
 he regarded as innovations not for a moment to be con- 
 sidered. Along the creeks in their Kttle boats, when the 
 
7g Ah Moy 
 
 water was sufficient, in the open road when dust ana drouth 
 came, were the methods which best suited this son of an 
 Oriental civilization. 
 
 " We will make straight for the King Shang," he said 
 to his wife, " and from there we may hope to start better 
 prepared for our flight." 
 
 " How far is it to the King Shang.? " asked his son. 
 
 " At least ten miles ; but with patience we may reach it 
 to-day," replied the father. 
 
 " My feet are strong from having gone with the crusad- 
 ers ; but, father, can mother and Ah. Moy walk so far.-* " 
 
 " It is hard," replied his father, " but it is a case of 
 necessity. Left here, they would die of hunger, or per- 
 haps the foreign soldiers might find them, in which case 
 no true Chinese woman would be willing to live." 
 
 " Oh, father, let us wait ! Already mother and sister 
 are far behind," exclaimed the son, looking anxiously back. 
 
 " We will go to yonder wall," said Ching Fo, " for just 
 there I see an old bamboo tree, at the roots of which there 
 may be young shoots. If we should be so fortunate as to 
 find some, they will relieve us of hunger and give us new 
 strength." 
 
 The two quickened their pace under the inspiration of a 
 light breakfast, and were rewarded by finding a number 
 of young shoots that were tender and delicious. 
 
 Ching Fo threw the bundle from his back and took from 
 it a small kettle, into which he put the sprouts, and by 
 the time the mother and daughter came up, he had ready 
 a light repast. It was a spare breakfast, after a long 
 walk ; but it gave them courage to go on and to trust Ten 
 Wang to bring them safely to the end of the day. 
 
 Refreshed by the food. Ah Moy and her mother pressed 
 forward through the burning sand in a brave effort to keep 
 up with the men. They spoke but little, but, hand in 
 

 ^.^ 
 
 ,- *■ 
 
 ' Buzzards in solemn inquest." 
 
74 Ah Moy • 
 
 hand, faced hardships that would discourage less coura- 
 geous spirits. As the sun grew hotter, they suffered ter- 
 ribly with their feet, but in their faces was the look of 
 stolid endurance, which is so characteristic of the Chinese 
 woman. 
 
 Occasionally the little party fell in with some one going 
 their way, but for the most part the country was de- 
 serted. Starving dogs glared at them as they passed, 
 and buzzards sat in solemn inquest over the bleaching 
 bones of the victims of the drouth. So the day passed, 
 and as the mists of evening began to gather over the dis- 
 tant mountains, the old monastery came in sight. Ching 
 Fo's trained eye was the first to catch the outline of the 
 noble building, as it loomed grandly against a low range 
 of foothills. 
 
 " Blessed be Buddha ! " he exclaimed, turning to his 
 wife. As he glanced back, he saw that Ah Moy was pale 
 and trembling, and that a tear had left its mark in the dust 
 on her cheek. The sight of their goal, however, encour- 
 aged her, and she made renewed efforts to keep pace with 
 the rest. In fancy she saw Quan Yin (goddess of mercy), 
 and in fancy she heard the bells calling to evening prayer. 
 In this sweet attitude of mind, she bore her sufferings un- 
 til they all stood together on the stone steps of the old King 
 Shang. 
 
 " Blessed be Buddha ! " again exclaimed the father, and 
 all the family repeated the sacred text. When they had 
 rested for a few moments they entered the heavily-timbered 
 gateway and passed into an avenue lined with long rows of 
 stone lanterns, which led to a small temple, and thence 
 to a priest's house. Ching Fo was surprised to observe 
 that the saucers for oil in the lanterns were empty, and his 
 hand trembled as he struck the old bronze bell. An aged 
 priest opened the door, and Ching Fo asked with great 
 
A Chinese Giul 75 
 
 courtesy whether it would be possible for him and his family 
 to remain within the walls for a few days. 
 
 The priest raised his hand in token of welcome, and 
 then took down a bunch of keys from which he selected 
 one and led the way back to the monastery. As he opened 
 the door, Ching Fo was horrified to see that the " Merciful 
 Hearer of Prayers " lay face downward on the floor, and, 
 further on, the Dragon, so lately carried by the pious 
 laborers, lay broken and with great patches of its silken 
 skin cut away by sacrilegious hands. These sights sent a 
 thrill of terror, such as he had never before felt, through 
 his heart. He turned back and with a gesture of despair 
 said to his wife: 
 
 " Nothing but desolation is here," then, turning to the 
 old priest, he asked, " What in the name of heaven has 
 caused this ruin.?" 
 
 " The building has been looted by the foreign soldiers," 
 replied the priest, " and everything of value has been car- 
 ried off." 
 
 " Is there no rice? " asked the son piteously. 
 " A small portion of rice," answered the priest, " shall 
 be yours, but beyond that our shelves are empty." 
 
 The priest then returned to his quarters, and with his 
 own hands prepared a bowl of rice for each member of the 
 family. While he was gone, Ching Fo explored a little 
 further into the building and found that all the idols 
 had been more or less mutilated, and that much that was 
 sacred had been carried off by the pillagers. After the 
 priest had returned and they had eaten their portion of 
 rice, they gathered a hard pillow from the fragments 
 about them and lay down to await another day. The sun 
 went down in one wild welter of color. Its golden rays 
 crept through the windows and tinted the walls of the old 
 monastery with the richest of hues, while the 
 
76 Ah Moy 
 
 " Firefly lovers flew over the wall 
 Through the dim, pathless air, to a firefly ball." 
 
 But the beauties of nature, which, at another time, would 
 have given Ching Fo and his family intense pleasure, were 
 now lost in the sadness of their thoughts. Hour after 
 hour they remained awake, trying to grasp the meaning of 
 the woes that had befallen them. At last the children 
 sank into the sleep of the tired young, but into Ching 
 Fo's wide open eyes there came forerunners of the darkest 
 hour he had yet seen. 
 
 Before him was the parting of the ways. His son, the 
 protector of the family tombs and the successor to his 
 family name — on the one side, while on the other was Ah 
 Moy, the idol of his heart. Between these two he must 
 now choose. It was not a question for a Chinaman to pon- 
 der long over, for with the money he might receive for his 
 third daughter, he could remove his wife and son to a place 
 of safety ; and when the Rain God saw fit to pour out a 
 sufficient quantity of water upon his parched fields, he could 
 return to his home and continue the family worship. 
 
 He knew that when famine held its deadly sway the 
 slave dealer was sure to come to purchase the fairest girls, 
 and he thought in the agony of his heart, that Ah Moy 
 ought to bring a large sum of money. She was old enough 
 to be immediately available for a wife ; the danger of foot- 
 binding was past ; her education was properly finished, and, 
 what was more, she was very beautiful. These were the 
 thoughts that haunted the father and drove every possible 
 chance of sleep from his eyes, so he arose and went out 
 into the moonlit garden. 
 
 In the gray of the morning his wife joined him and 
 there, beneath the trees made sacred by the worship of 
 ages, that grand committee of two, the father and mother, 
 
A Chinese Girl 77 
 
 unfqjded to each other the plan by which they hoped to 
 save the family shrine. 
 
 " To sell the third daughter," said Ching Fo to his wife, 
 " is, indeed, a trial ; but I fear that to all our other woes 
 this intolerable one must be added. The straits into which 
 Ten Wang has brought us compel me to entertain the 
 thought." 
 
 " I knew it before your honorable speech was made," 
 replied his wife. " If it must be so, it must be so, and the 
 details are left for you to work out. Are there slave 
 dealers in this vicinity ? " she asked sadly. 
 
 " I presume there are. They usually swarm about places 
 where men in financial distress are to be found." 
 
 " But what if Ting Ho, the son of Sing Lee, should re- 
 turn.? " 
 
 " There is but little hope of such an event ; for during 
 all the time that he has been gone, his father has heard 
 nothing from him," replied Ching Fo. 
 
 A long conversation followed, during which neither 
 uttered a sigh nor shed a tear. But the deep sorrow they 
 were enduring bowed their heads and furrowed their 
 brows. When the sun again came in stately splendor over 
 the mountain crest, they turned their faces eastward, hop- 
 ing that the spiritual enlightenment which comes with the 
 early morning, might make the poor world-fret seem a little 
 less heavy. After inhaling deeply, Ching Fo arose and 
 went into the monastery to see Ah Moy and determine 
 whether her young heart would be able to bear up under 
 the ordeal of parting from her family. 
 
IX 
 
 WITH slow and faltering step, Ching Fo approached 
 his daughter, whom he found seated upon a bench 
 at the side of the monastery. When he reached the spot, 
 he laid his hand almost reverently upon her head, and said, 
 with painful emotion. 
 
 " Daughter, all my life I have revered the gods and have 
 believed in the spirits of my ancestors. Yet, at this mo- 
 ment, I can see but one malicious monster ruling the world. 
 Driven by his evil hand, I am compelled to say that while 
 thou art my beloved daughter, and thy mother and I bless 
 the day that thou didst enter our unworthy home, I see no 
 other way to tide over the distress into which we have 
 fallen than to sell thee to a slave-dealer. I have not the 
 right to cut off my family line while a female child can be 
 used to bridge over the dilemma. The question that con- 
 fronts me now is that of saving my son and the ancestral 
 line. 
 
 " There are three things of which a superior man stands 
 in awe : first, he stands in awe of the ordinances of heaven ; 
 second, he stands in awe of the words of the sages ; third, 
 he stands in awe of the customs of his ancestors. All these 
 things compel me to protect my family shrine. To do so, 
 thy brother must receive the first consideration. It is to 
 him. that we look for the preservation of the family tombs ; 
 it is to him that the spirits of our ancestors look for the 
 perpetuation of the family name." 
 
 Thus spoke Ching Fo, and right royally did his little 
 daughter answer him: 
 
 78 
 

 A sail outside the wall. 
 
80 Ah Mor 
 
 " Father, dear, do not look so sad ! I know that, hav- 
 ing been born a girl, I am only a burden in such a time 
 as this, and whatever you think best, I will willingly accede 
 to. It is ordained by the gods that women shall be slaves, 
 and I may as well obey a master as to obey the mother-in- 
 law, to whom I should owe my services had I been married 
 to Ting Ho. Do not worry about me, for I shall go 
 wilHngly into the slave-dealer's hands, if you so decide. 
 I know that you can get money enough for me to care 
 for mother and brother until the rain comes, and then you 
 can go back to the old home and live long." 
 
 The courageous spirit of his daughter saved Ching Fo 
 much of the sting which the interview would otherwise 
 have given him. He took her hand and together they went 
 to the mother, who was waiting for them beneath the tree. 
 For one sad hour all three sat with faces to the east, 
 enduring silently the sorrow that had come to them. 
 
 In the still air, they could hear voices outside the wall, 
 and could see the top of a sail, which they knew must be- 
 long to some houseboat ; but they were too much absorbed 
 in their own affairs to wish to see strangers, so they went 
 quietly back into the monastery and began to fold the 
 garments they had worn during the night. When they 
 had finished, Ah Moy said, pointing to the idols, " Father 
 dear, may we not go around the room and repair some of 
 the damage that has been done to the images before we 
 go.?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Ching Fo, " it is proper to do what you 
 can to that end. The damage done by a barbarian may 
 be repaired by a woman's hand; but the barbarian is an 
 object of contempt." 
 
 There was bitterness in his voice, such as Ah Moy had 
 seldom noticed before. She hesitated a little, but finally 
 said to her mother : " Shall we raise up the blessed 
 
A Chinese Girl 81 
 
 Buddha? " " Yes," faltered the wife of Ching Fo, " we 
 can hardly go away without adding a little to the restora- 
 tion of the place." They raised the Buddha and then 
 passed over to the Virgin Mother. The lily was still in her 
 hand, but her face was turned to the wall, and the child 
 which had lain on her breast, had been placed beside the 
 God of War. Ah Moy could not restrain her tears. 
 " Tell me, oh, tell me, mother," she said, " why it is that 
 foreign people treat our sacred symbols with such con- 
 tempt? " 
 
 " I cannot answer, my daughter. All we can do is to 
 bring the infant back and stand it beside its mother." 
 
 They turned the face of the Virgin about and carried 
 back the child and were proceeding to the God of a Thou- 
 sand Hands, when they heard the voice of Ching Fo call- 
 ing them. 
 
 " We must go now, for it will be much easier if we walk 
 before the heat of the day." 
 
 Thus commanded, the women left the broken idols and 
 prepared to start. 
 
 The son, although he had lost some of the buoyancy of 
 the previous day, took his place beside the father and all 
 was ready for the day's journey when suddenly a shadow 
 darkened the doorway and caused them to turn in that 
 direction. There they saw a Chinaman sleek, well-fed, and 
 wearing the regulation suit of black linen that proclaimed 
 him to be of the merchant class. He shook his own hands 
 as he advanced and bowed ceremoniously low. 
 
 " Like yourself, honored sir, I am a visitor to this noble 
 temple," he said, and, as he spoke, he cast a searching 
 glance at Ah Moy, which so angered Ching Fo that he 
 replied with freezing politeness : 
 
 " The temple is before you, sir," and immediately passed 
 on. Seeing that the Httle party intended no further con- 
 
82 Ah Moy 
 
 versation, the newcomer, still looking at Ah Moy, said: 
 
 " Honored sir, you seem weary and travel-stained. May 
 I ask from whence you come and whither you go? " 
 
 " We have come from the Tien Dong and we go to the 
 Shan Tung province," was Ching Fo's terse answer. 
 
 " Your locality has suffered much," said the stranger, 
 " our country is beloved by the gods, if we may believe 
 that old saw about the gods persecuting whom they love." 
 
 " The gods," replied Ching Fo, " are far beyond us. 
 All we can do is to follow a line of duty and leave events 
 with heaven." 
 
 " Yes, yes," assented the merchant. " It is futile to at- 
 tempt to pacify the gods. It is very sad, however, to see 
 the ruin which sacrilegious hands have wrought in this 
 grand old monastery." 
 
 " Yes, oh, yes," Ching Fo answered warmly, " I know 
 that the day has not yet come for the brotherhood of men, 
 but it does seem that nations might abstain from high- 
 way robbery in adjusting their differences." 
 
 " Yes," agreed the stranger, " the despoiling of this 
 place was entirely unnecessary, and was carried out with 
 the savagery of the grimy barbarian." 
 
 "How so.''" asked Ching Fo, relaxing his cold de- 
 meanor and showing a keen interest in what the stranger 
 had to say. 
 
 " I chanced to be near here, and, in a measure, to be a 
 witness of the fiendish work. My houseboat was moored 
 just below in the creek, when a party of foreigners sur- 
 rounded me and demanded any information I might have 
 concerning the treasure in the building." 
 - " Ah, indeed ! Then you were really a witness." 
 
 " Yes ; as I said, chancing to speak a little ' pidgin ' I 
 was put upon for information. Of course, my knowledge 
 of English failed me and I answered all questions with ' no 
 
A Chinese Girl 83 
 
 savee,' but they were bent upon mischief and — this is the 
 result. The priests," he went on, " were powerless, and as 
 their supply of food was limited, they fled to the temple of 
 Ko Shin." 
 
 " It is deplorable," remarked Ching Fo, and again 
 attempted to throw the bundle containing the family 
 possessions over his shoulder. 
 
 " Are you properly equipped for your long walk.? " 
 asked the stranger. " I have provisions, and to spare, in 
 my boat. They are yours, if you will accept them." 
 
 At this Ching Fo softened his manner a little and asked, 
 " To whom am I indebted for this kindness .'' " 
 
 " I am Quong Lung," replied the merchant, " and it will 
 give me pleasure to serve so noble a brother." 
 
 The faces of the little party brightened, for although 
 they courted hardship, and took a keen delight in testing 
 their powers of endurance, their sufferings had already 
 gone to a point where the ancient spirit threatened to give 
 way. 
 
 Quong Lung, seeing that they were willing to accept his 
 proffered food, clapped his hands in signal for a servant 
 to come from the boat. In a moment two coolies pre- 
 sented themselves and their master instructed them to bring 
 abundantly from the houseboat kitchen. The coolies has- 
 tened back and soon returned with bountiful supplies. 
 
 By this time, Ching Fo suspected that his benefactor 
 was a slave-dealer who had followed him for the purpose 
 of taking advantage of his distress. 
 
 But as he saw the wasted figures of his wife and chil- 
 dren, he threw aside his scruples and squatted with them 
 before a large platter of rice. 
 
 This was what Quong Lung had hoped for, since he 
 was a shrewd enough judge of human nature to know that 
 business progresses better on a full stomach than on an 
 
84 Ah Moy 
 
 empty one. He had the Chinaman's patience and the 
 Chinaman's superstition, and while he waited for the family 
 to finish eating, he loitered among the idols and lighted 
 incense-sticks or threw wads of paper at the God of Good 
 Luck. After the meal was over, Ching Fo's tobacco 
 pouch was filled, for the first time in many weeks ; water 
 chestnuts were brought in from the boat, and, later, tea, 
 rice wafers, and sweets were presented. 
 
 Before the meal was over, the slave-dealer joined the 
 group and for half an hour tried to adjust himself to their 
 society. As the sun crept up and stood directly over the 
 old Cryptomeria tree, the two men strolled out and sat 
 down beneath it. The sunshine glinted through the 
 boughs and the insects droned the music that the Chinese 
 love; but in the shadow beneath the tree sat a shrewd and 
 prosperous merchant eating out the heart of a helpless 
 scholar. With the cunning of a Jew, Quong Lung beat 
 off the shock which he knew would be given Ching Fo, 
 if he boldly opened negotiations for Ah Moy. He talked 
 about the drouth, the chances of rain and the foreign 
 devils ; but did not mention the girl, until the shadow of the 
 tree stretched far toward the east. At last he said signifi- 
 cantly : — 
 
 " Your daughter is a very beautiful girl. I wonder you 
 have not married her before now." 
 
 " She has been betrothed since her babyhood to a son 
 of Sing Lee," answered Ching Fo, " but, alas, her intended 
 husband has been sacrificed on the altar of his country." 
 
 " Well, then, it is no more than proper that she should 
 be given to another. I have much demand for girls who 
 are of marriageable age. Is your daughter's health 
 good.? " 
 
 " Her health is excellent," replied the father, " my fam- 
 ily has been subjected to great hardship since the drouth 
 
A Chinese Giel 85 
 
 commenced, and the girl looks a little thin ; but with proper 
 food she will soon regain her flesh." 
 
 " Yes, probably so," assented Quong Lung, " but you 
 know that some girls grow ill and faded when taken away 
 from their parents. All things combine to make invest- 
 ment in girls uncertain. If I could be sure of finding a 
 purchaser for her very soon, I should be glad to offer you 
 a liberal price, but, taking everything into consideration, 
 I cannot afford to pay more than five hundred taels for 
 her." 
 
 " She is no coolie," exclaimed the father, angrily, " that 
 is no more than the price of a common coolie ! This is the 
 daughter of Ching Fo, whose name is known and honored 
 throughout the province. It is only because the iron 
 liand of necessity is upon me that I consider her sale at 
 any price. I have but one son, kind sir, and it is my duty 
 to protect him at whatever cost. You are certainly aware 
 that such girls as my Ah Moy are only to be purchased in 
 times of distress." 
 
 Quong Lung was callous to the matter of sentiment, 
 however. He wanted to buy the girl, but he wanted her 
 at the lowest possible price. So he replied very care- 
 lessly : 
 
 " Oh, very well, — there are many girls for sale, and my 
 experience is that they are usually only consumers of rice." 
 
 Every word of this haggling over the price was as iron 
 driven into the soul of Ching Fo. He knew that the color 
 would come back to the cheek of Ah Moy as soon as she 
 had plenty of food, and that, under favorable circum- 
 stances, she was very beautiful and could be resold at a 
 high price as soon as a favorable locality was reached. 
 
 " What is the good man and the just.? 
 Ofttimes a pearl that none doth prize. 
 
86 Ah Moy 
 
 Or jewel rare which men account 
 
 A common pebble and despise. 
 Set forth upon the world's bazaar, 
 
 It mildly gleams, but no one buys." 
 
 quoted Ching Fo from an old poem. 
 
 Brooding thus over his troubles, Ching Fo let the day 
 go by, and when it was nearly dark returned to the 
 monastery. His wife and his daughter came and sat be- 
 side him in silence, and the stars were twinkling before the 
 family lay down upon the hard floor to spend another 
 night. But when a new day formed in the east, Ching 
 Fo faced it with the courage of a man who has gone 
 through the deep waters and found a landing-place on the 
 other side. He arose, • walked firmly to the bank of the 
 creek, and motioned Quong Lung to his side. 
 
 " It is useless to prolong the agony," he said, " neither 
 my family nor myself can see any other way of escape, 
 and it were better that we close the cruel transaction." 
 
 Thus ended the bargaining, and thus the daughter of 
 Ching Fo became the property of Quong Lung. The 
 contract was drawn up by the slave-dealer, and so cun- 
 ningly worded was it that Ching Fo did not notice at first 
 the omission of the usual clause which provides that the 
 slave shall not be sold for immoral purposes. When he 
 saw the defect, his blood boiled anew, but he dared not ex- 
 postulate, lest Quong Lung should take advantage and re- 
 duce the price, which was now barely sufficient to enable 
 him to take his family out of the drouth-stricken, province. 
 
 Under these circumstances, he signed the document, and 
 returned to the monastery to inform the women, and to 
 say a last word to his third daughter, from whom he now 
 expected to be parted forever. Both women knew by the 
 expression on his face that the moment had come, and both 
 
A Chinese Giki- 87 
 
 struggled bravely to conceal their emotions. Ching Fo's 
 step, as he advanced to take Ah Moy by the hand and 
 lead her to the door where Quong Lung was waiting to re- 
 ceive her, was that of a man grown old in a single night. 
 
 " My child," said he, " you must go with Quong Lung 
 and obey him, and be as good a slave as you have been a 
 daughter. The most painful part of the whole matter is 
 that I have not been able to secure the usual clause in the 
 contract of sale to protect you from dishonor. It is cus- 
 tomary for the Chinese slave-dealer to sell his young women 
 for wives, and it is most likely that some good Chinaman 
 will buy you, to raise sons to his ancestral line ; but, daugh- 
 ter, there is a possibility that it may not be so, and if it 
 comes to a choice between shame and death — you must 
 choose only death." 
 
 Saying this, he took from his girdle the knife which he 
 so valued as a family possession and handed it to her. Ah 
 Moy understood, and, without hesitancy, took the knife 
 and hid it in her sleeve. Then she followed her father 
 to the door, where Quong Lung received her, both parents 
 turning their faces to the wall as she was led down the 
 steps. 
 
 Ah Moy bore up bravely until she reached the plank 
 which led from the bank to the boat, but then overwhelm- 
 ing sorrow swept over her and she broke into a fit of 
 weeping. 
 
 " It is another cry-baby that he has bought," grumbled 
 one of the oarsmen, glancing at the distracted child. But 
 Quong Lung spoke kindly to her, saying : — 
 
 " Do not cry, little one. Perhaps I shall sell you to a 
 rich mandarin, who will give you plenty of clothes and 
 make you a great lady." 
 
 But the third daughter of Ching Fo was too unhappy 
 to be elated at such a suggestion. To her excited imagin- 
 
88 
 
 Ah Mot 
 
 ation, Quong Lung looked as pitiless as did the God of 
 War in the monastery. She soon recovered her composure, 
 however, and true to her Asiatic training, sat down and , 
 waited patiently for whatsoever might be the next step in 
 her new Hf e. 
 
ALTHOUGH the house-boat of Quong Lung was built 
 after the fashion of a thousand years ago, it was 
 stanch and strong. Over the centre were ribs of bamboo, 
 upon which was stretched heavy canvas, and, higher up, 
 like the wings of a great bird, was a sail covered all over 
 with idiographs representing the aphorisms of the sages. 
 There were comfortable bunks and well-filled cupboards in 
 this land and water caravansary, and, in a strong box be- 
 neath Quong Lung's bed were opium, tobacco, and bottles 
 with foreign labels on them, for the slave-dealer had lived 
 in San Francisco. On a shelf against the side of the cabin 
 was an image of the river god, in front of which was a 
 bowl of ashes, showing that incense had been burned there. 
 Beside the fragrant incense less pleasant smells reeked to 
 heaven — bilge water, dried fish, and sea-cabbage. Some- 
 times the black smoke was added, but this was only when 
 the boat was stuck fast in the mud, for Quong Lung did 
 not let pleasure interfere with business. On the bow of the 
 boat was painted an enormous eye. What it meant, Quong 
 Lung did not know, but it was a good luck sign, and he 
 believed in having the good luck signs wherever they be- 
 longed. For the three-toed dragon he kept a cup of tea 
 and a bronze gong, each clang of which was a signal 
 for an offering and a prayer. At the stern of the boat 
 was a great, bent-handled sculling oar, which was manipu- 
 lated by coolies stripped to the waist. On occasions when 
 the water was low, however, the crew jumped overboard 
 
 89 
 
90 Ah Mot 
 
 and pulled like horses. The foreman differed not from 
 the rest, except that he wore a shirt, and stood on top of 
 the bamboo frame, uttering such words as civilized men use 
 only toward their horses when the wagon is stuck in the 
 mud. He also shouted warnings to other boatmen: 
 
 " Don't you see this fine boat, all you little mud- 
 scrapers.'' Get to one side or I will run you down. Hey 
 there! thou son of a louse, clear the way," and so on. 
 His ability to intimidate the small-fry constituted his chief 
 value as an overseer. With it he could arouse the multi- 
 tude that swarmed upon the water, and thus get room for 
 his boat. After his work was done, however, this inde- 
 fatigable foreman squatted upon terms of perfect equality 
 with the rest of the crew around a bowl of fish and rice. 
 Quong Lung commanded better food — such as pork, and 
 lily bulbs, preserved ginger, and dainties kept under the 
 bed. 
 
 Ah Moy soon got over her fright and was timidly pre- 
 paring to eat the food which the cook had sent her, when, 
 to her surprise, another girl rolled out of a bunk and came 
 and sat down by her side. She was a pretty girl with a 
 suspicion of waves in her black hair, and with eyes that 
 looked straight into the faces of men. All the girls whom 
 Ah Moy had ever known had been taught to abstain from 
 raising the eyes above the third button of the blouse, and 
 she suspected at once that there was something wrong about 
 her young companion. Another curious trait of this 
 strange-looking girl was her restlessness. Ah Moy, in her 
 secluded life, had met only girls of studied repose and 
 passionlessness. 
 
 It was a sad awakening for Ah Moy to find herself in 
 comradeship with one who bore none of the marks of the 
 society to which she had been accustomed ; and at first she 
 felt a strange reluctance about accepting the situation. 
 
A Chinese Gikl 91 
 
 Happily, however, the two girls spoke the same dialect, 
 which fact made it impossible for them to go on without 
 such friendship as springs from mutual sorrow. After 
 a few days, the girl confided to Ah Moy that her name 
 was Wing, and that her father was an American. Dur- 
 ing a period of drouth, she said, her mother had been sold 
 for money, to keep the other members of the family alive ; 
 and to tide over a period when wives were scarce the 
 American had bought her and installed her as mistress of 
 his house. As a slave she served him faithfully and bore 
 him a daughter, but when his wife came in a great ship from 
 San Francisco she had carried him off to a fine house on a 
 fashionable street in Shanghai and they saw him no more. 
 In due time. Wing's mother found her way back to the 
 parental roof, but as no one wanted the half-breed child, 
 she had been given to an old woman, who raised her as a 
 servant. All this pitiful tale Wing told between hysterical 
 bursts of weeping. Her manner astonished Ah Moy even 
 more than her story did, for demonstrations of grief she 
 had seldom witnessed. Ah Moy soothed the girl and 
 combed the tangles out of her unkempt hair, telling her at 
 the same time about Kali,* the mythical mother, who tears 
 the hearts of her children only to prepare them for her 
 blessing. 
 
 Wing could remember her father, and sometimes told 
 Ah Moy stories of his wealth, which to her childish mind 
 seemed fabulous. She often expressed a desire to find him 
 and to live among his people, even perhaps to marry a for- 
 eigner. These sentiments of the half-breed were distressing 
 to Ah Moy, and she concluded that Wing's heart was a 
 sepulchre haunted by phantoms of which a true Chinese 
 girl could conceive only in the vaguest way. 
 
 * Kali is a hideous blue idol, who stands with a drawn sword in 
 her hand, while with her feet she tramples upon her children. 
 
92 Ah Moy 
 
 " Tell me, dear Wing," said Ah Moy one day, " why 
 you talk about men and money ? " 
 
 " Oh," replied Wing, " is it not nice to have riches and 
 lovers ? " 
 
 " I think not," returned Ah Moy, " these are strange 
 subjects which I cannot understand. Marriage seems to 
 me to be a duty, for the performance of which the parents 
 will make arrangements in due time, and any love not sanc- 
 tioned by their wish or any love in which the mother-in-law 
 is not entitled to the services of the daughter-in-law, is to 
 me a puzzling enigma." 
 
 " Then," said Wing piteously, " it must be the foreign 
 part of me that thinks wrong. My mother used to say to 
 me, ' Wing, you belong to another race ' ; or, ' Wing, what 
 strange ideas you have.' " 
 
 To Ah Moy, the subject of heredity was a sealed book, 
 but she was conscious that between herself and Wing was 
 an impassable gulf, that grew wider as they ate and drank 
 and slept together. This caused her deep sorrow, for the 
 circumstances under which they were living made her feel 
 a strong desire to be of service to her slave-girl companion. 
 How to accomplish her object, however, was a problem that 
 Ah Moy's young mind had no way of solving. 
 
 Wing felt the cloud that hung over her and made pa- 
 thetic attempts to overcome the peculiarities that Ah Moy 
 pointed out to her; but she was burdened with impulses 
 that swayed her, even as the wind sways a young and ten- 
 der plant. Quong Lung understood full well the handicap 
 under which Wing labored, and felt a strong dislike for 
 her. " She is a typical Eurasian," said he one day to Ah 
 Moy. " The good is burned out of her, and nothing is 
 left but the ashes of sensuality. I bought her for a trifle, 
 and hope to get rid of her as soon as we reach a market." 
 
 The boat had now worried along through the shallow 
 
A Chinese Gikl 
 
 93 
 
 waters of the creek and was in a 
 river with a strong current to the 
 south. A few days more would 
 bring them to Shanghai. There 
 Quong Lung hoped to dispose of his 
 cargo and then return to the famine 
 district for other chattels. Wind 
 and weather favored; the girls were 
 well-fed and everything about them 
 a miracle of beauty, and, except for 
 an occasional pang when they 
 thought of home, they were quite 
 happy. At times the boat lay in 
 shadowy depths, where fish darted 
 gracefully through the water ; at 
 other times strange birds arose with 
 a whirr of wings, only to drop down 
 again when the first alarm had sub- 
 sided. Along the banks were hud- 
 dled houses, with no visible way of 
 approach. Tall bamboos swayed 
 gracefully about them and crooked 
 paths led to shrines higher up. 
 
 In places acres and acres of ducks 
 covered the water, while the Chinese . « 
 husbandman, sitting idly upon the N^><J 
 bank, bearded them, much as the 
 western man herds his flocks. Some- 
 times, as the houseboat came plowing 
 into sight, a shrill whistle from their 
 owners sent the ducks scrambling 
 on to a large raft near by, where 
 they sat demurely waiting until the 
 danger was past. 
 
94 Ah Moy 
 
 • 
 
 Again they saw boat-loads of coffined dead, being car- 
 ried to their ancestral tombs. Accompanying each party 
 were hired mourners, and priests whose yellow robes were 
 dabbled with mud. Upon one occasion, a fleet of tiny 
 straw boats covered the water. 
 
 " I must tell you about this funeral ceremony," said 
 Quong Lung, as they watched the little boats float by. 
 
 " Oh do," exclaimed the girls, " for this is the most 
 interesting sight we have seen yet." 
 
 " Well then," replied Quong Lung, " Hong Fang, who 
 gives this celebration in honor of his mother, is a man of 
 great wealth. He has devoted so much time to spiritual 
 attainment that he is able to see his mother, who has been 
 dead for many years. Often he sits alone in dusk of the 
 evening and lights the spirit-recalling incense, and slowly 
 her face takes shape and hovers in the smoke ; but the time 
 is nearly ripe when her spirit must go into another sphere, 
 and she will no longer be able to command the forces by 
 which she materializes ; so he gives her this grand celebra- 
 tion, known throughout China as the ' Ceremony of Fare- 
 well.' " 
 
 " Oh," said Ah Moy, " I have often heard my father 
 speak of this festival and call it one of the most beautiful 
 known in China. Is there not a written message in each 
 little boat.?" 
 
 " Yes, in each little boat there is a scrap of paper, 
 folded with ceremonious precision, upon which is written 
 a message of farewell." 
 
 Saying this, Quong Lung reached out with a bamboo 
 pole and hooked up one of the tiny craft for the girls to 
 examine. They were greatly interested and unfolded the 
 message which was addressed to " The honorable the Em- 
 peror of the Dead." Inside the paper was written, " On 
 behalf of my mother, greeting and much joy." Ah Moy, 
 
A Chinese Giel 95 
 
 as soon as she had read it, creased it back into the original 
 folds and asked Quong Lung to set it afloat again, saying, 
 in gentle tones, 
 
 " It might grieve the spirit-mother to lose even this one 
 message." 
 
 For hours the little boats covered the water with their 
 twinkling lights, but by morning they had all drifted away, 
 and instead of a funeral cortege, the girls now saw some 
 rafts, composed of bamboo poles, upon which sat cormo- 
 rants, looking solemnly into the water. 
 
 " Only see the cruel rings around their necks," exclaimed 
 Ah Moy, as the birds twisted their heads in an attempt to 
 throw off the burden. 
 
 " The rings are to keep them from swallowing the fish 
 they catch," explained Quong Lung, " there would be no 
 profit in keeping them, if they did not give up what they 
 take." 
 
 " Do they swim under water.'' " asked Ah Moy. 
 
 " Yes," answered Quong Lung, smiling, " I see you are 
 £shlng for another story." 
 
 " I should like to know more about the queer birds," re- 
 plied Ah Moy, with a look of interest in her face. 
 
 " The cormorant, as you see, is used by the very poor- 
 est class of fishermen; a few bamboo poles, strapped to- 
 gether, and three or four cormorants, tied by a string, con- 
 stitute his stock in trade. With these, and a basket to put 
 his fish in, he is ready for business. The birds are trained 
 so well that at a signal from their master they glide noise- 
 lessly into the water and pursue fish and eels with great 
 skill. Do you not see the flabby stomach.-' 
 
 " That is a sack which holds more than you could believe, 
 and, sometimes, the bird catches so much that it is full and 
 running over — that is, it is stretched as tight as a drum, 
 and the tail of the last fish protrudes from the bill of the 
 
96 Ah Moy 
 
 • 
 
 bird. A bird that does such work as that is worth five 
 or six taels. See! there is one throwing a fish into the 
 air!" 
 
 " Why does he do that? " the girls asked. 
 
 " Because he wishes to swallow it head first. If he 
 catches a fish by the back, he throws it up, and, as it comes 
 down, he takes it head first, else the bony fins might scratch 
 his throat." 
 
 " But do tell us how these birds are caught," urged Ah 
 Moy, still anxious for the story to continue. 
 
 " Oh, that is easy ! the eggs are found by people who deal 
 in them and sell them to others who hatch them under 
 hens. The old hen does not notice that the eggs are green, 
 or that she is sitting a whole month instead of twenty-one 
 days, but patiently clucks and waits until she feels the little 
 ones squirming beneath her. Then the housewife takes 
 the brood away, to be fed upon small pieces of fish. When 
 they are two months old, their education begins. A string 
 is tied around one leg and they are taken to the water, 
 where small fish have been placed. They know very well 
 how to catch the fish, but they have to be whipped with a 
 bamboo switch many times before they will give them up. 
 It takes many hard lessons before they can be trusted; 
 but in time they learn to obey, and are then ready for four 
 or five years of steady work. After that, they become 
 sulky and are thrown into the water." 
 
 " I should not be willing to torture the poor birds so, 
 just for a little money," said Ah Moy, with a perplexed 
 expression. 
 
 " You are not accustomed to the ways of the world, lit- 
 tle one," returned Quong Lung. 
 
 " No," replied Ah Moy, " I am only accustomed to the 
 ways of my father." 
 
 But this small sally changed into a smile as she saw one 
 
A Chinese Girl 
 
 97 
 
 of the cormorants break his chain and fly, with a wild 
 scream, to a beetling crag. 
 
 Two days more, and the boat anchored at the foot of a 
 long flight of stairs, which led to the Azure Pagoda, 
 where the one hundred and eight fires were lighted for the 
 
 The cormorants. 
 
 purpose of burning out the one hundred and eight foolish 
 desires that afflict the children of men. As Quong Lung's 
 cook felt the need of prostrating himself before the idols 
 and leaving a small offering, the boat came to a standstill. 
 
98 Ah Moy ^ 
 
 What the one hundred and eight foolish desires were, 
 of which the cook wished to purge himself, was not 
 very apparent, since his clothing consisted only of a pair 
 of trousers and his food of rice and fish. Yet he reli- 
 giously placed a copper coin in his ear and waded through 
 the mud to the lion-guarded steps. 
 
 All the way up the path were pretty, patient mothers, 
 carrying their babes to be purged of foolish desires. As 
 the cook approached the sacred landing, an outstander in- 
 formed him that he could not enter without more clothing. 
 Nothing daunted, the religious cook returned to the boat 
 and happily was able to borrow the foreman's shirt and 
 hat. Thus equipped, he was allowed to enter the house 
 of prayer. After prostrating himself three times before 
 an image, and making all the genuflections required by 
 etiquette, he repaired to the shrine of the God of the 
 Aching Tooth ; not that he had the toothache, but since he 
 was there, he would appease the God, lest he send that 
 painful malady upon him.* 
 
 It was before this idol without a jaw that the pious cook 
 met some other boatmen, who invited him to a game of fan- 
 tan behind the temple. The game was followed by the 
 " black smoke," and in the wee, small hours of the night, 
 the cook found himself so much in debt that he was obliged 
 to pawn the foreman's hat and shirt and return to the 
 boat without them. This arrangement was not satisfac- 
 tory, either to the foreman or to Quong Lung, who gave 
 the cook a beating, after which he resumed his work in the 
 spirit of a man who has enjoyed a holiday. 
 
 Next day, the boat stopped before the temple of Yuen 
 Ti, and the girls were anxious to hear something about 
 
 * It is said that in one of his incarnations, this God suffered 
 so much from toothache that he tore off his jaw, and since that 
 time he has had power over this ailment. 
 
A Chinese Girl 99 
 
 this building. Quong Lung told them the story of the 
 empress Huang Fi, who, more than four thousand years 
 before, raised silk worms, and was afterwards deified and 
 worshipped under the name of Yuen Ti. " So careful was 
 she of her silk worms," said Quong Lung, " that she would 
 not allow them to be frightened by noise, or disturbed by 
 strangers coming into their presence. The empress fed 
 them with her own hands, and would not permit a withered 
 or dusty leaf to be given them. We do not know, now, 
 whether she ate her pets, but the chrysalides are used as 
 an article of diet among Chinese who can afford such lux- 
 uries." Both girls laughed at this story, and Quong Lung 
 seemed as much pleased as they were. 
 
 So passed the days of floating and rowing, and as the 
 girls were well-fed and contented they had greatly im- 
 proved in appearance when the house-boat of Quong Lung 
 entered the wilderness of small craft that swarmed in the 
 vicinity of Shanghai. There was a gem-like brightness 
 in the eyes of Ah Moy and warm red blood in her cheeks. 
 The thought that she had saved her father's family from 
 starvation gave her a consciousness that shone in her face 
 and lightened her step. Many a day she pictured the old 
 home, with the Rain God pouring water upon its parched 
 fields, and the lamps again lighted upon its ancestral 
 shrines. She was glad that she had been patient enough 
 to listen to all of Wing's visionary conversation, and she 
 looked with pride upon the tell-tale hair which she had 
 trained to lie in neat coils at the side of the head. 
 
 The foreman now swore more than usual, and the crew 
 drove the nose of Quong Lung's boat into the smallest 
 opening ; yet it was two days before they pulled up, and, 
 amid the clatter and roar of an open port, the little party 
 set their feet again upon solid ground. 
 
 A sheet of warm mist hung over Shanghai, protecting 
 
100 
 
 Ah Moy 
 
 the foliage from the burning sun, and making the gardens 
 along the Bund glisten as though newly varnished. For- 
 eigners from many countries were rushing through the 
 streets and Ah Moy was quite frightened, for she had 
 never before seen such hurry and confusion. As com- 
 pared with the repose of her father and his friends, all 
 these strangers seemed like madmen. Crews from the war- 
 ships, clad in spotless uniforms, brushed past her, and 
 porters wrangled about their fees. 
 
 " What has happened," Ah Moy said to Wing, " that 
 all the people seem so excited? " 
 
 " I am trying to think," answered Wing ; " it seems 
 to me like a far-off dream; but I can remember how my 
 mother used to say that the foreigners were always in a 
 hurry." 
 
 " And they look so angry," said Ah Moy ; " do they not 
 keep the face.'' " 
 
 " No," replied Wing. " It seems like very long ago, but 
 I think that part of me which is American belongs to this 
 mad rush. Somehow I feel used to it already." 
 
 " And what are those red-turbaned men who walk up 
 and down and carry knives and guns.? " Ah Moy asked of 
 Quong Lung. 
 
 " Oh, those are Sikhs. They do police duty. They 
 are the men who capture young girls, if they attempt to 
 run away," he explained shrewdly. 
 
XI 
 
 QUONG LUNG did not give the girls time to look 
 around; but hurried them into a rikisha and had 
 them transported to a large building on the Nanking road. 
 There he put them in charge of an old woman, named 
 Wang. Wang was cross, and after looking them over 
 with a critical eye said: — 
 
 " This is the time you have been cheated. Look at the 
 feet of that girl," pointing to Ah Moy, " they are too small 
 for a slave. Do you expect me to offer her my shoulder 
 every time she moves ? " 
 
 " Oh," responded Quong Lung, " never mind, Wang. 
 I will manage it. There are more ways than one to make 
 money out of girls." 
 
 " And why did you buy the Eurasian," continued Wang, 
 without heeding his answer, " you promised me that you 
 would not buy any more half-breeds. The Chinamen will 
 not have them for wives, and there is always danger of 
 trouble if you sell them to the flower-boats. Now, what 
 would happen if that girl's father should claim her. J" " 
 
 " Why," exclaimed Quong Lung, " it would probably 
 happen that I should get some money. I have a plan — " 
 
 But here he stopped short and left Wang to surmise as 
 best she could what his plan might be. Wang looked 
 again at the pitiful figure of Wing and said: 
 
 " That kind are always getting sick. Do you suppose 
 I have nothing to do but take care of sick Eurasians ? " 
 
 However Wang might grumble, she had no alternative 
 but to obey, so she took the girls to a large room and 
 
 101 
 
102 Ah Moy 
 
 locked them in. The windows were barred with iron rods, 
 and the door swung on huge wooden hinges. Flaky 
 whitewash had once covered the walls, but it was now re- 
 lieved by plentiful streaks of dirt. From a grease rimmed 
 hole in the partition, a strip of cow-hide hung, the far 
 end of which went beyond the wall, and was connected 
 with a large fan that hung directly over Wang's bed. 
 From the ceiling dangled women's clothing in all stages of 
 wear and tear — the blue cotton of the coolie, the butter- 
 fly embroidered silk of the dancing girl, and the shiny 
 black of the middle-class wife, hanging side by side. 
 
 Through the grated window the girls could look down 
 upon throngs of people, who seemed moving in an endless 
 procession. Wing watched eagerly the living stream, 
 but Ah Moy's quick eye caught a view of the Yang-tse- 
 Kiang river, as it shimmered in the distance. 
 
 " How beautiful," she said. " Only see the silver 
 thread with gray-green banks." 
 
 " No," replied Wing, " see the people below. Oh, if I 
 could only get down and go with them ! " 
 
 " But where would you go .'' " asked Ah Moy. 
 
 " Oh, just go. I feel a spirit within me that says 
 ' go.' " 
 
 A pained expression crept into Ah Moy's face, but she 
 made no reply. She had often observed the great gulf 
 between Wing's thinking and her own, so she had ceased 
 to wonder at it and felt only sorrow. In a short time, old 
 Wang came in and very unceremoniously set both girls 
 to work. 
 
 " Can you wind the silk from the cocoons.? " asked she of 
 Ah Moy. " It requires close attention, for I do not wish 
 any of it spoiled." 
 
 So saying, she set down a basket filled with the dainty 
 webs of the domestic silk-worm. To Wing she said: 
 
A Chinese Girl 103 
 
 " I will sleep. You may pull on the cowhide till I re- 
 turn, and remember I do not wish you to stop. If the 
 flies disturb me so much the worse for you." 
 
 Both girls immediately obeyed. Although the reels 
 were old and gummy, Ah Moy worked patiently until her 
 taskmistress reappeared, and Wing was still pulling at 
 the rope when she opened the door. When old Wang saw 
 this, she was quite repentant of the cross reception she 
 had given them, and said: 
 
 " You may have some food, now, and after eating you 
 may select articles from the rafters for your own wear- 
 ing." 
 
 The girls ate their rice and mushrooms, and then pulled 
 down such garments as they desired and put them on. Ah 
 Moy chose a simple and unpretentious suit, but Wing 
 transformed herself into a much bespangled young woman. 
 
 When Wang came back she found them at work on 
 the silk and was so pleased with their gentle obedience that 
 she gave them each a pair of slippers to wear. 
 
 As the days passed, Ah Moy won her way very near to 
 the heart of the old woman, for she not only did her own 
 work but frequently repaired the damage done by Wing's 
 haste and impatience. By the end of the first week, the 
 three women had adjusted themselves to one another in 
 quite a home-like way. 
 
 Quong Lung had not been to see them in all this time. 
 
 " They are in safe hands," he said to a friend, " old 
 Wang has had many years' experience with girls. If the 
 drouth continues, I think I shall go back to Honan, for 
 I can get girls there just now at my own price. The two, 
 if kept at work, will earn their rice, while I collect another 
 cargo." 
 
 " But can you sell them ? " said Wu Lee. " There is 
 both drouth and war in the air." 
 
104 Ah Moy 
 
 " That is an old story," replied Quong Lung, 
 always in the air. And as for the drouth, it is my best 
 friend; it brings prices down;" but even while they were 
 speaking there came blackness in the sky and the wind 
 bellowed down the Nanking road ; the gutters sent up noi- 
 some odors, and forked lightning darted through the 
 clouds. Quong Lung scented the storm and went out on 
 the street, only to see the sky black and the water falling 
 in sheets upon the dry earth. 
 
 "I must look after my girls. This rain shapes my 
 affairs in quite a new way. No more can I buy the 
 daughters of the literati at my own price, and no more 
 will I visit the province of Honan." 
 
 He tied his trousers around his ankles, let down his 
 queue, which had been tucked in his blouse pocket, and 
 turned his face toward the house where the slave girls were 
 confined. 
 
 Old Wang knew how many tinkles of the bell meant 
 Quong Lung, and she descended the stairs in haste to meet 
 him. She reported that the girls were well and in suitable 
 condition to sell. 
 
 " At your command, I will prepare them for the mar- 
 ket," she said. 
 
 Quong Lung knew what she meant, and took from his 
 pocket a gold piece with which to buy hair pins and brace- 
 lets and such other adornments as add to the attractions 
 of womankind. 
 
 " Have them ready to-morrow," he directed ; " I will 
 bring some one to see them by ten o'clock." 
 
 Thus commanded, Wang began her preparations. She 
 shaved their foreheads and combed their hair, plastering 
 down with mucilage such tresses as showed signs of being 
 unruly ; she touched their eyebrows with black, turning 
 them deftly to the shape of a willow leaf, while their lips 
 
'A much be-spangled young lady." 
 
106 Ah Moy 
 
 she brightened with vermilion. She pressed folds into 
 their trousers, with as much precision as a tailor presses 
 the garments of men. All the morning Wang fretted 
 and fumed over their toilets, and, when her labors were 
 ended, the girls looked very different from the timid, little 
 wild flowers whom Quong Lung had bought. 
 
 At ten o'clock Quong Lung rang the bell, and a number 
 of would-be purchasers followed at his heels. Most of 
 them were Chinamen in search of wives. Among these 
 Ah Moy was a prime favorite; but Quong Lung held his 
 prize at a high figure. 
 
 " You cannot buy the daughter of a Ching Fo every 
 day," he said to one merchant who offered five hundred 
 taels for her. 
 
 " I can sell her any day in San Francisco for two thou- 
 sand dollars," he declared and to other offers he replied, 
 " No, no ! I can do much better in San Francisco." 
 
 Two weeks passed in a fruitless attempt to dispose of 
 the two girls. Then, one evening, as he was closing his 
 house, Quong Lung said to old Wang, 
 
 " I believe I shall shape my affairs so as to make the 
 trip to San Francisco." 
 
 " I told you so," replied old Wang, with true womanly 
 instinct. " Ah Moy's feet are too small and Wing is only 
 a consumer of rice. She will never bring the money you 
 have invested in her; besides, she is not in good health, 
 and may, at any time, become a burden." 
 
 " Well, then," said Quong Lung, " I may as weU give 
 it up. I can get something for her at the flower-boats, 
 and then I can take Ah Moy to San Francisco and do well 
 on her. But when I bought the half-breed I had a plan, 
 which, had it worked as I expected, would have made the 
 half-breed a profitable investment." 
 
A Chinese Giul 107 
 
 " You have hinted at your plan before," said Wang, 
 a little piqued, " and I suppose I know what it is." 
 
 " I suppose you do," acknowledged he ; " you are 
 shrewd enough to see that if I could find the girl's father, 
 I could make him pay well for her. But as I have failed 
 in that, I think I will let her go for what I can get, and 
 trust to better luck in the future." 
 
 The next morning, Wang dressed Wing in the best the 
 place afforded and set her down to await the arrival of 
 Quong Lung. Adorned with jewelry and fine clothes, 
 the perfume of sandal wood in her hair, and her olive skin 
 set off with cheeks and lips of vermilion, she suited fairly 
 well the requirements of the flower-boat. 
 
 But Quong Lung still regretted that he had missed find- 
 ing her father, the white devil, who had come to China to 
 get rich and left without giving the slave-dealer an oppor- 
 tunity to extort a share of his wealth. However, Quong 
 Lung was not a man to cry over spilt milk. He came 
 promptly to the house in the Nanking road, and, in a 
 savage way, gave three tinkles at the bell, which brought 
 old Wang to the door in double quick time. 
 
 " Is she ready ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, she is ready, and she looks very pretty," replied 
 Wang soothingly, for she saw that he was in a bad humor. 
 Quong Lung took the half-breed girl by the hand and 
 led her down the steps. She flung back a parting word 
 to Ah Moy and seemed pleased that new scenes awaited 
 her. 
 
 " A fragile child, from a home unblessed, 
 To be culled and worn on a sated breast," 
 
 was poor little Wing, as she said good-bye to Ah Moy and 
 followed Quong Lung hke a lamb to the slaughter. 
 
108 Ah Moy 
 
 " Come this way," commanded he, " and try to behave 
 Kke Ah Moy, or I shall not be able to sell you at all." 
 
 Just as he was about seating her in a rikisha a police- 
 man tapped him on the shoulder and said, in very good 
 English. 
 
 " A man wants to see you at the guild house, sir." 
 
 Quong Lung's face brightened. He felt that this 
 might be the message for which he had waited in vain since 
 his arrival in Shanghai, — the message which would tell 
 him the whereabouts of the father of his slave. 
 
 He sent the girl back up stairs, and made haste to a 
 building which was situated in an unsavory part of the 
 city, known as the Too Chow road. From the outside, 
 nothing indicated what might be within; but the smells 
 were those of Chinatown, and the guard at the door was 
 of the Ho Wang company. 
 
 As Quong Lung entered, two men rose and bowed dip- 
 lomatically low. Quong Lung shook his own hands and 
 motioned them to a table; tea, tobacco and sam-shu came 
 in courses. At last the tallest of the two men said : — 
 
 " Most honored friend, we have secured the information 
 you desired concerning the father of the Eurasian girl, 
 and we would know how much you are willing to pay us 
 for our trouble." 
 
 " Is the testimony correct, beyond the peradventure of 
 a doubt.'' " inquired Quong Lung. 
 
 " It is a transcript from the temple records," replied the 
 first speaker ; " I swear it will put you into communication 
 with the father of the girl." 
 
 " I would pay something down, and more if the matter 
 comes to a successful issue," ventured Quong Lung 
 guardedly. 
 
 " We have searched over half the records in the prov- 
 ince. We must have, at least, three hundred dollars." 
 
" The water falling in sheets." 
 
110 Ah Moy 
 
 Quong Lung rattled some coin in his pocket, but be- 
 yond that made no reply. After a short time, the two 
 men arose to go and Quong Lung, seeing that they in- 
 tended no further parley, said: 
 
 " Come back to-morrow and I will see what can be done. 
 The price is too high, but I will consider it." 
 
 Quong Lung had already exhausted his own ingenuity 
 in search of the man who had bought Wing's mother and 
 so cruelly deserted her, and he had been compelled to re- 
 sort to the professional detectives. These men he knew to 
 be merciless in their demands for money, but they were 
 now his only hope, and the delay of twenty-four hours 
 was merely a strategic move that he might ascertain from 
 old Wang a little more definitely the condition of Wing's 
 health. 
 
 He walked back to the Nanking road and again rang 
 the bell. Old Wang was in a communicative humor, and 
 he had, on such occasions, no hesitancy in telling her the 
 truth about his plans. 
 
 " I am in the way," he said, " to find the whereabouts 
 of Wing's father and to get the information I wanted 
 as to his finances. But I wish your opinion as to the state 
 of her health ; for it will not pay to spend any more money 
 on her unless she is in tolerable condition. In other 
 words, if she is likely to go to the white man's hell before 
 I can get my hands on the father, I want to know it." 
 
 " Oh, no fear of that ! I have had the care of girls 
 for more than twenty years, and I should say, barring 
 accidents, she will outlive Ah Moy. The foreigner's chil- 
 dren do hold on to life unaccountably," she reassured him. 
 
 " Then," said Quong Lung, " you shall keep Wing for 
 the present and say to anyone who calls that she is already 
 sold. Help me now, Wang, and when I get my hand on 
 
A Chinese Giel 111 
 
 that fellow, we will both have more money than we have 
 now. Good-bye ! " 
 
 Next morning the trio met again at the guildhall, and 
 Quong Lung dispensed tea with a liberal hand, but the 
 two detectives reiterated their price of three hundred dol- 
 lars for the information. 
 
 " It is exorbitant," protested the slave-dealer, 
 
 " But it is proportionate to the good ; the child of the 
 white devil is valuable when all the signs come right," 
 urged the tall one. 
 
 An end to the parley came, however, and Quong Lung 
 paid three hundred dollars for a piece of paper, on which 
 was written: 
 
 " Ukiah Grant, dealer in Wines and Liquors, Nortii 
 Honan road, purchased one slave, named Wo Sing, in 
 1885. July 7, 1887, a daughter was born to him by this 
 woman. In 1892, he retired from business and returned 
 to his native city, San Francisco, California, U. S. A. The 
 records show that he paid taxes upon one hundred thousand 
 dollars. Signed by Wu Chow, Recorder of the Quan Yin 
 temple." 
 
 A great cloud was lifted from Quong Lung, when he 
 saw the official stamp on the Quan Yin temple, for he 
 knew that this was testimony that no man could dispute. 
 With the document still in his hand, he returned to the 
 Nanking road and told old Wang of his success. 
 
 " You may begin now to put both girls in training for 
 a trip to San Francisco. Ah Moy must be taught to say 
 that she is the daughter of Quong Lung and born in the 
 L^nited States, otherwise the devil will be to pay when I 
 try to land her. You know the old story of the custom 
 house. You must also produce a mole on her right cheek. 
 Aside from that, she fits the passport I have very well. 
 
112 
 
 Ah Moy 
 
 The half-breed I am sure is all right, as I can prove that 
 she is the daughter of a wealthy citizen of that city." 
 
 So saying, he dropped another coin in the hand of 
 Wang and went out. There was buoyancy in his step, as 
 he walked briskly toward the Bund. The amount of 
 money that he might extort from Ukiah Grant, when he 
 landed in San Francisco with his half-breed daughter, was 
 as yet an unknown quantity ; but he felt sure that it would 
 swell his bank account. He went directly to the office of 
 the Nippon Yusen Cashia and found that it would be a 
 week yet before another steamer sailed. By that time he 
 could easily have everything in readiness for the journey. 
 
 riv?^?e 
 
XII 
 
 IT was early in the fall when Quong Lung led his two 
 slave girls up the gang plank of the Hong Kong Maru. 
 Tucked away under his blouse were three European steer- 
 age tickets, the transcript of the temple record, for which 
 he had paid three hundred dollars, and two passports, one 
 for himself and one for Ah Moy. He did not think it 
 necessary to have a passport for Wing, since he could 
 prove that she was the daughter of an American citizen. 
 
 His own passport recited that he was a merchant doing 
 business on Jackson street, in San Francisco. The pass- 
 port on which he expected to land Ah Moy stated that she 
 was Chinese, twenty years old, and born in California. It 
 also mentioned the fact that she had a mole on the right 
 cheek. This document was second . hand, having been 
 taken out for a death-stricken slave whom Quong Lung 
 had brought with him from San Francisco, but she an- 
 swered the description reasonably well. That she was 
 Chinese, anyone could see; that she was twenty years of 
 age, happily no one could deny ; and that she had a mole 
 on her right cheek was due to old Wang's skilful manipu- 
 lation. Taking all things together, the slave-dealer con- 
 gratuated himself on stepping out of the bedlam into 
 which his own country had fallen with a prospect of land- 
 ing on his feet in San Francisco. 
 
 In the European steerage there was scarcely standing 
 room; but Quong Lung pushed his way to the women's 
 cabin, and there deposited the two astonished girls, bidding 
 them stay until he returned and not to talk to anyone. 
 
 113 
 
114 Ah Moy 
 
 He then climbed the narrow iron stairs to the middle 
 deck and began searching among the crew for old ac- 
 quaintances. 
 
 He had crossed the ocean twice before in the ship, and 
 as the crew were mostly Chinese he felt sure that they 
 would remember him. Especially would the cook, whose 
 friendship he valued highly. As he stepped under the 
 awning, he saw a number of women standing beside the 
 rail, each of whom had a hymn book in her hand, and a 
 look of doomsday in her face. With his eyes cast deep 
 upon the floor, he attempted to pass this little group, but 
 one of them plucked him by the sleeve and asked him if 
 he " loved Jesus," to which he replied that he did, but his 
 face darkened and he turned back to the second cabin 
 where he waited for an opportunity to pass unobserved. 
 When the proper moment came, he again climbed the 
 stairs in search of his friend the cook, but as he did so 
 another sight ruffled the smooth surface of his brow. A 
 woman with a Salvation Army bonnet drifted past him to 
 meet another bonnet of the same kind. As soon as they 
 had gone, he dived rather unceremoniously into the kitchen 
 and remarked that he had never seen so many missionaries 
 in his life. Sing Hi, the cook, quite agreed with him. 
 " The Boxers have driven them on board, and so much the 
 better for China," replied that important personage. 
 
 " Yes," answered Quong Lung. " It is to be hoped 
 that this uprising will rid China of them altogether." 
 
 " My, no can chin, chin," replied Sing Hi, and then swore 
 in tolerably good English that China was for the Chinese, 
 and that the foreign devils should stay in their own coun- 
 try. It was now late in the afternoon. The arm of the 
 great steel crane was swinging load after load of baggage 
 into the hold, and the jar of machinery was shaking the 
 ship from fore to aft. Quong Lung cast his eye up and 
 
A Chinese Gikl 115 
 
 read with considerable nautical skill the language of the 
 flags as they floated lazily in the breeze. A yellow one 
 said : " We sail from a plague-infested port." 
 
 " Poor old China," said he, " is plague-stricken, as well 
 as drouth-stricken." Then, looking at the Stars and 
 Stripes, he congratulated himself that he could go to the 
 land of the free and the home of the brave, and remain 
 until times were better. That with a little manipulation 
 of passports, he could even land slaves there. As he 
 stood meditating, the gang plank was suddenly taken up 
 and the sorrowful waving from the shore told him that 
 the hour of departure had come. He slipped back to 
 where he had left the two girls, and found them wedged in 
 between Americans, Hindoos, Sikhs, Russians, and such 
 other conglomerate as go to make up society in an open 
 part of Asia. He was glad that only a few of their 
 traveling companions spoke English, for he shrewdly 
 reckoned that as long as there was a confusion of tongues 
 his slaves were reasonably safe from molestation. 
 
 The first three days of the voyage were like the first 
 three days of any other sea voyage, the passengers shiv- 
 ered and at times turned grayish yellow. When the 
 stewardess came round with the regulation questions, those 
 who could smiled, while others demanded beef tea. 
 Quong Lung was too good a sailor to be sea-sick ; he 
 loafed and picked dainties from the cook's kettles, and fre- 
 quently passed the door of the women's cabin, where his 
 girls lay looking very limp and yellow. But by the third 
 day, everything grew rapidly better. First one and then 
 another was able to go on deck; and at last the two 
 Chinese girls crawled out of their bunks, combed their 
 hair, and, under the protection of one of the women, 
 climbed the stairs to get the morning sun. Quong Lung 
 saw them and gritted his teeth. 
 
116 Ah Moy 
 
 " By the five-toed dragon," he muttered, " there she is, 
 with a Salvation Army bonnet and a hymn book." 
 
 He glanced into the innocent blue eyes of the woman, 
 as though she had done him an injury, and as soon as 
 he could conveniently lay hold of the girls, he took them 
 by the hand and led them to the stairs, saying in no uncer- 
 tain voice, 
 
 " Stay below and keep away from this woman." 
 
 This act brought upon him a score or two of eyes and 
 set a score or two of tongues a going. 
 
 " I was trying to help the poor girls," complained she 
 of the bonnet, " and the horrid old Chinaman took them 
 away." 
 
 " You must not be discouraged in well-doing," said a 
 sweet-faced sister. " It may be many days before bread 
 cast upon the waters returns again." 
 
 " But where can he be going with those two girls, and 
 can he be their father, or are they slaves.? " were soon 
 topics of discussion among the missionaries. Society finds 
 its own on shipboard as well as otherwhere and it came 
 about naturally that missionaries of all creeds drifted to- 
 gether. Each morning they held a prayer-meeting, after 
 which they indulged in social talk — no better and no 
 worse than that of others. They managed to gather all 
 the available news, to speculate upon it, and to draw con- 
 clusions. They knew who favored missionary work and 
 who opposed it, and they scented afar off any who were 
 tainted with unbelief. But the one question they could 
 not decide at all was what Quong Lung was going to do 
 with his two girls in San Francisco. 
 
 Thus matters stood one morning, when an elderly man, 
 who was affectionately known as " Brother Jones," led the 
 prayer meeting. Brother Jones had lived long in the 
 Orient and knew the whys and wherefores of the trade in 
 
A Chinese Girl. 117 
 
 Chinese girls in San Francisco. As he saw Quong Lung 
 leading his two girls past the hatch, he addressed him in 
 the dialect of the Quong Tung province. It was a sur- 
 prise to the slave-dealer to find a missionary who spoke 
 his own tongue, so he entered into conversation with him, 
 which ended in an invitation to leave the girls with one of 
 the ladies. 
 
 The lady referred to was a Presbyterian missionary, in 
 whose face every line spoke of good. Ah Moy felt it, 
 and placed her defenseless little hand in the proffered one 
 and sat down contentedly by her side. Quong Lung was 
 now so hedged in that he felt it necessary to make an ex- 
 planation, so he boldly said that Ah Moy was his daughter, 
 born in California, the language of the exclusion act 
 being closely followed. 
 
 But it was an unlucky moment when he condescended to 
 explain matters to Brother Jones, for that gentleman had 
 recognized in the face of Quong Lung that unmistakable 
 something which stamps itself upon a Cantonese China- 
 man, while in Ah Moy's face he saw as plainly the marks 
 of the northern bred. This discrepancy of testimony at 
 once gave rise to the suspicion that both girls were slaves. 
 Brother Jones communicated this probability to the women, 
 as soon as the Chinaman was beyond hearing, and from 
 that moment the horoscope of the slave-dealer told a, 
 troublesome story. 
 
 It was useless to try to escape the missionaries; they 
 swarmed about him, expressing the greatest interest in 
 his charges ; they led the girls on deck and talked to them 
 in that wonderful sign language which nature provides for 
 all her children. When the weather was fair, the ladies 
 and the Chinese girls leaned together over the rail to watch 
 the water as it was churned into frothy yeast, or they 
 peeped into the engine room, to see the bright machinery, 
 
118 Ah Moy 
 
 • 
 each throb of which was bringing them nearer to their 
 
 destination. 
 
 Among those who walked and talked with the girls 
 was Dr. Richardson, who had for three years been sta- 
 tioned as a medical missionary in one of the open ports of 
 China. Her eye was the trained eye of science, and she 
 knew at once that into Wing's veins had been poured a 
 stream of fierce and ungoverned western blood. 
 
 " Poor little waif," she said, " cast upon so stormy a 
 sea without sail or rudder; it is to such as these that the 
 true missionary should go." 
 
 " Yes, yes," returned she of the motherly heart, " but 
 can you tell us how to help these unfortunates.? It is 
 easy to bring Ah Moy to Jesus; but, with the Eurasian, 
 it is a different story." 
 
 " Ah Moy," said the doctor, a little sharply, " is no 
 more in need of being brought to Jesus than are the birds. 
 It is Wing that needs our help. By her father's blood 
 she is fairly, stamped as one of us, and we owe her our 
 protection. Ah Moy can be sold in San Francisco to 
 some wealthy Chinaman for a wife. But little Wing will 
 be despised, and if left to herself will probably find her 
 way to the class we call ' fallen.' She is only of value to 
 the world," continued the doctor, " as she is protected." 
 Then, putting her arm about the poor little half-breed 
 girl, she said, 
 
 "Buddhism has done more to teach her children ab- 
 stemiousness and sex-wisdom than has Christianity." 
 
 To this remark, the Salvation Army missionary pro- 
 tested, saying that missionaries who could endorse any- 
 thing in Buddhism were in danger of losing the true 
 light. 
 
 " That subject is not under discussion," replied the 
 doctor, " but it is a fact beyond dispute that Chinese 
 
A Chinese Giel 119 
 
 children are better trained in many respects than ours. 
 If our own people understood this subject better, we 
 should not find the half-breed scattered from Dan to 
 Beersheba and left without protection, as this poor child 
 has been." 
 
 Wing felt the magnetism of the doctor's embrace and 
 crept nearer to her with a sheltered feeling, such as she 
 had never before experienced. 
 
 " This strange foreign woman," she said to Ah Moy, 
 when they were alone, " understands me, and I love her." 
 
 During their long morning prayer-meetings the mis- 
 sionaries managed to keep the slave girls near them. 
 Quojig Lung walked the deck uneasily, and to counteract 
 any evil influence provided liberally for the bodily comfort 
 of Ah Moy and Wing. 
 
 When he found that the foreign food was distasteful to 
 them, he made raids upon Sing Hi for such food as the 
 Oriental palate craved. These dainties he cooked himself 
 upon a pocket stove and dished out as the girls needed 
 them. Through all his conversation, he was also careful 
 to impress Ah Moy with the idea that California was a 
 country where people lived in the greatest luxury, and 
 that, as soon as they arrived, she would become the wife 
 of a rich merchant. 
 
 The water remained a miracle of beauty ; blue met blue 
 on the horizon line for days at a time; occasionally, a 
 whale spouted in the distance or an albatross swept the 
 air close to the rail, but save for these little incidents 
 the solitude of an unbroken sea contrasted, day by day, 
 with the restlessness of the passengers on board the great 
 ship. For eighteen days the scene was the same, when, 
 suddenly, an outline of dim green and a long line of white 
 surf crept along the horizon. 
 
 Quong Lung's quick eye was the first to see it ; he called 
 
120 Ah Moy 
 
 the attention of the girls and pointed to a jewel-like row of 
 islands, set in an ever-changing opal sea. For hours 
 they watched the apparition grow into land, studded with 
 groups of palms and sugar cane, while little dots on its 
 slopes told of homes nestling beneath the foliage. 
 
 Before night, the ship came to a standstill, just out- 
 side the wharf of Honolulu and as no contagious disease 
 had developed during the voyage, the passengers were al- 
 lowed to land. They found the western civilization fairly, 
 established, and everything throbbing with life. A po- 
 litical boss had charge of the work on the wharf, and 
 close by was the " Holiness Hotel " and the " Gladtid- 
 ings " grocery store. 
 
 Quong Lung attempted to go ashore, but was informed 
 that Chinamen were not allowed to land. The mission- 
 aries, however, were on their own stamping ground. They 
 were met by an eager throng, escorted ashore, and enter- 
 tained with fruits and flowers beyond compare. On the 
 third day, they returned to the ship, bearing all the lux- 
 uries of a semi-tropical climate. Out of their abundance 
 Ah Moy and Wing were bountifully supplied, at which 
 they marvelled much. That night a white trail was left 
 on the smooth surface of the sea, and in the morning the 
 ship was again out of sight of land. 
 
 Only a week now remained until the end of the voyage. 
 Tailor-made clothes came out of the trunks, to adorn the 
 women ; Japanese kimonas gave place to shirt-waists. 
 The male members of the missionary staff had their queues 
 cut off, and, in deference to Western taste, donned coats 
 and vests. The Japanese on board limped about in 
 leather shoes, and even Quong Lung brought out shining 
 new trousers for his girls. 
 
 The ship underwent such a cleaning up as no ship ever 
 receives until she is nearing port. Tattered flags were 
 
A Chinese Girl 121 
 
 mended and masts were painted, floors scrubbed, and brass 
 polished. Through the HberaHty of the steamship com- 
 pany, hundreds of labels bearing the word " Disinfected " 
 were scattered among the passengers, with the advice " to 
 stick them on to everything." This, both saint and sinner 
 did, and when they arrived in quarantine waters nothing 
 but the yellow flag told that the ship had sailed from an 
 infected port. It was necessary, however, that she halt 
 and wait for the inspectors, a formality which caused 
 delay, and some remarks not complimentary to interna- 
 tional usage; but toward night the obnoxious flag came 
 down and the Hong Kong Maru slid gracefully up to 
 her pier at the foot of Brennan Street. 
 
 Here she was again boarded by officials in blue uni- 
 forms, who seemed to be merely loitering about, but who 
 were in reality taking close notice of all on board. These 
 men Quong Lung pointed out to the girls, at the same time 
 handing them the documents upon which he expected to 
 get them ashore, and once again impressing upon them the 
 necessity of saying that they were born in California. 
 
 Although of a race whose greatest accomplishment is 
 " to keep the face," Quong Lung showed signs of worry. 
 The ship was now discharging her just and her unjust 
 into the streets of San Francisco ; the second cabin steward 
 had gathered the Chinese into a squad and was waiting 
 until the European passengers wete off, to marshal them 
 in double quick time to the gang plank. 
 
 When the human stream began to thin, Quong Lung 
 turned to the girls and bade them be in readiness. As it 
 was near night, he shrewdly reckoned that the custom house 
 officers would be getting hungry, and perhaps that fact 
 might enhance his chance of getting through without very 
 close scrutiny. The minutes seemed long to him, but at 
 last the steward gave the signal and the Chinese fell into 
 
122 Ah Moy 
 
 line, each presenting his passport, and answering such 
 questions as were put to him. 
 
 The officers recognized Quong Lung as a merchant 
 whom they had often seen on board and let him pass with- 
 out even looking at his papers ; but when the girls timidly 
 stepped behind him, Brother Jones, who had lingered pur- 
 posely, whispered something into the officer's ear and he 
 immediately motioned the girls back, and the steward led 
 them to one side. 
 
 After the crowd had disappeared, the officers called the 
 girls forward again and demanded their passports. The 
 description in Ah Moy's seemed fairly correct, but suspi- 
 cion was aroused by the fact that the mole on her cheek 
 was slightly off color. When they asked her where she 
 was born she was too frightened to recall the word " Cali- 
 fornia," which had been so carefully drilled into her mem- 
 ory, and only stood with the stolid look of a Chinese who 
 does not understand. The officer folded her passport and 
 handed it back with a shake of his head, at the same time 
 reaching for the transcript of the Temple records which 
 Wing held. 
 
 " Here is another case out of the ordinary," he said 
 after reading the papers, " I do not think we have ever 
 before had a Chinese woman who claimed to be the daughter 
 of an American. It may be all right, but I do not wish 
 to take the responsibility of passing her." 
 
 After a short consultation, the officers decided that they 
 could do nothing except keep the girls on board until the 
 next day, and then give them a new hearing. Quong Lung 
 requested the privilege of going back to speak to them; 
 but his request was denied and he walked wrathf uUy away, 
 toward Chinatown. 
 
XIII 
 
 CHINATOWN was all agog over Quong Lung's fail- 
 ure to land his slaves. Groups of men discussed the 
 incident and complained at America's discriminations 
 against the Mongolian. When the bell on the old church 
 tower was striking eight, the president of the Ho Wang 
 Company sent out messages to those most interested to 
 meet in a hall on Crocker Alley and talk the matter over. 
 
 The room where the meeting was called was the one in 
 which the Chinese municipal council was wont to assemble. 
 Its furniture consisted of straightback teakwood chairs, 
 elaborately carved, a long table upon which was tea and 
 opium, tobacco and whiskey — even the whiskey of the 
 white devil, which the Chinese had learned to like better 
 than their own sam-shu. Against the walls, divans with 
 wooden pillows attested to the luxurious habits of those 
 gathered there. In an incense-burner, before the God of 
 Prosperity, a hundred joss sticks evinced the religious 
 zeal of the Ho Wang Company. At the far end of the 
 room, was a screen on which was inscribed, in softly shaded 
 ideographs, verses from the Confucian code. 
 
 This pious appearing decoration, however, served an- 
 other purpose than that of teaching morality ; for it was 
 hung at the top, with hinges that swung out and concealed 
 an opening in the wall, through which any number of per- 
 sons might disappear, and, like birds that swim under 
 water, come to the surface a long way from the place 
 where they went down. This arrangement was necessitated 
 by the frequent visits of the police, on which occasions it 
 
 123 
 
124 Ah Moy ^ 
 
 was thought better that the hall should be found unoc- 
 cupied. 
 
 At the street entrance was a sentinel, who communicated, 
 by pulling a wire, with another sentinel on the inside, — 
 once for a member of the Ho Wang Company, twice for 
 an unfriendly tong, and three times for any suspicious 
 movement of the policeman, whose eagle eye was fre- 
 quently turned in that direction. 
 
 It was getting late and all was quiet, so the guard on 
 the inside pulled a piece of roast pork from his sleeve and 
 was about to eat, when the bell rang once. He slipped the 
 pork back into place and admitted four men, all of middle 
 age and prosperous appearance. 
 
 The first was Ah King, straight as an arrow, shrewd 
 as a fox, and strong in the faith that Chinatown did not 
 need police surveillance. He wore a green silk blouse, 
 decorated under his queue with a grease spot the size of a 
 dinner plate. Ho Lung followed on the heels of the first 
 merchant and answered to the same description, — a little 
 deeper concentration of thought had turned his eyes a lit- 
 tle more toward the nose ; a little more taste in the selection 
 of his silken trousers had given him a superior air; but 
 far underlying all surface appearances, was the real 
 Chinaman, who lives forever and changes not. The other 
 two men followed in single file, and the odor of the Far 
 East came in with them and sat with them at the table. 
 
 The little party talked about the affairs of the Ho Wang 
 Company, the latest news from home, the prices of vege- 
 tables, and then drifted off upon the exclusion act. 
 
 " Our friend, Quong Lung, has had a stormy voyage," 
 remarked Ah King, as he poured tea from a padded tea- 
 pot. 
 
 "Yes," assented Ho Lung, "The God of Fate has 
 brought him into trouble." 
 
A Chinese Gikl 125 
 
 Just here a third voice piped up, " The signs were not 
 right when he sailed. A man should not go to sea when 
 the sign of the zodiac is in Taurus." 
 
 " Oh, I do not concern myself so much about the signs," 
 said Ah King, " living in San Francisco ten years makes 
 a man begin to doubt them ; but it cannot be denied that 
 the times were inauspicious when our friend sailed. The 
 trouble with the Boxers drove so many missionaries on 
 board that Quong Lung could not keep aloof, and, as a 
 result, they have brought him into trouble." 
 
 " Yes," agreed Ho Lung, " but I still believe that the 
 gods have much to do with our troubles. We all lie 
 bound upon the wheel of fate." 
 
 After this remark there was silence for a time, and then 
 conversation turned upon politics — the politics of China- 
 town, a brand quite distinct from that of the white men ; 
 a wheel within a wheel, so to speak, which goes one way 
 while the main wheel goes another. 
 
 They had not entered very fully upon this complicated 
 subject, however, when a party of five young men, all of 
 a slightly modified type, came into the room. These were 
 American born, and had been educated in the public 
 schools. They swore in English, but returned to the 
 mother tongue to express shades of meaning not within 
 the scope of their adopted language. " Pidgin " they 
 rigidly ignored, as they also did the western style of dress. 
 Garments cut to show the outline of the figure were as 
 much an indecency to them as to their fathers. 
 
 The young men took seats, and as Quong Lung had not 
 yet arrived, they listened respectfully to the conversation 
 of their elders. 
 
 " Business is good," remarked Ah King, " the books of 
 the Company show that, at the New Year's festival, every 
 man had money to burn to his ancestors." 
 
ll26 Ah Mor 
 
 " Yes," said Fo Lung, who kept an employment office, 
 " the demand for labor is greater than the supply. If it 
 were not for the exclusion act, we might do well in this 
 country." 
 
 " Ah, yes," said Ah King, " it is too difficult for our 
 people to get here ; the United States discriminates against 
 us. The exclusion act, the demand for the ' open door,' 
 and the high tariff — what a trinity of inconsistencies! 
 The duty on pickled eggs is now five cents a dozen, and 
 the duty on dried mushrooms is equally high." 
 
 Just then another party of Quong Lung's friends, 
 among whom was the " peace talker," Ah Foon, arrived, 
 and seated themselves at the table. Ah Foon was a 
 lawyer who undertook both sides of his cases. He seemed 
 always to be present where trouble was brewing. When- 
 ever there was a difference of opinion among his country- 
 men, he threw himself into the breach for the purpose of 
 adjusting it. On occasions of serious rupture, he had 
 been known to prostrate himself, first to one side and then 
 to the other, in the interest of peace. Among Chinamen 
 he seldom failed to make amicable arrangements; but he 
 had learned, after some experience, that Westerners adjust 
 their differences in quite another way, and to their meth- 
 ods he was now giving attention. He had found that 
 testimony was an important item, in settling disputes in 
 the white man's court and he had frequently furnished 
 such as was required to win a case. In short, he had be- 
 come so skilful in this matter, that he only needed a clear 
 idea of what was wanted, to be able to produce it. Es- 
 pecially had he looked into habeas corpus procedure and 
 felt a considerable degree of confidence that everything in 
 the American man's court, especially when connected with 
 this writ, depended on the evidence. 
 
 " What thinkest thou about Quong Lung's getting his 
 
A Chinese Giel 127 
 
 girls ashore? " Ho Lung asked Ah Foon, as the conver- 
 sation lagged. 
 
 " I hope there will be no trouble," he replied, " there 
 are several ways to arrange it. If a good man should 
 be on the wharf in the morning, it will be an easy matter; 
 if not, he must go to the court of the white devil. In 
 these courts it often happens that the wisest cannot hold 
 his own with the most ignorant, but we must meet that 
 state of things." 
 
 Ah Kee suspended judgment. He had left the father- 
 land but a short time before, arriving first in Canada, and 
 thence by slow degrees, to San Francisco. 
 
 The next subject that came under discussion was the 
 price of girls. 
 
 " Why there is so much trouble about getting our 
 women folk here is a mystery to me," said Ho Lung; 
 " the last wife I bought cost me twelve hundred dollars, and 
 when Quong Lung gets his little beauty ashore, he will 
 probably want' as much as two thousand for her. In 
 China one can get aU the girls he wants for one or two 
 hundred apiece. It is this outrageous exclusion law that 
 makes it so hard to get wives." 
 
 To the surprise of the elderly men a dissenting voice 
 was now heard. Hi Su, one of the young men, arose and 
 said : — 
 
 " I respect the ways of my ancestors and I love the 
 fatherland; but I believe it is time for us to learn to obey 
 the laws of our adopted country. I think the buying of 
 slaves to be a sin. I obey the municipal council of China- 
 town, so long as it does not come into conflict with the 
 laws of the State, — but further than that I do not go." 
 
 " Yes," chimed in Sam Sing, another of the young men, 
 " I also obey the laws of California, and I send my daugh- 
 ters to school, just the same as I do my sons." 
 
128 Ah Moy • 
 
 These sentiments of the younger men were regarded by, 
 their elders as proof that loyalty to the fatherland was 
 fading away, and that the habits of the grimy barbarian 
 were being rooted in their lives. They meditated for a 
 while on what seemed to them the retrogression of their fel- 
 lows, and then Ho Lung rose to the occasion. 
 
 " Can love of home be like the love of a child for a but- 
 terfly.? Have the ages written their story of soft repose 
 upon the Chinaman's face only to be wiped out, as foot- 
 steps out of sand by an incoming tide? Does the lifting 
 up of hands to the ancestral shrine mean nothing to us 
 because we are away from home.? Young Chinamen who 
 find themselves drifting from the customs of their fathers 
 should bow their heads and pay, reverence to the nation 
 that has lived to see all other nations take their places 
 among the dead." 
 
 For some moments after this burst of eloquence, a deep 
 silence pervaded the room, the incense lay in sheets along 
 the wall and no one seemed willing to speak; then Ah 
 Kee arose and recounted some of the customs of the father- 
 land. 
 
 " At home, the old father and mother live in the house 
 and all the sons and all the sons' wives take care of them. 
 Here parents and grandparents have no place; they are 
 not reverenced by their daughters-in-law. There women 
 are modest, and do not wear clothes to reveal their figures, 
 while here the women deform their bodies and disquaUfy 
 themselves for bearing children. There, the man bearing 
 a heavy burden upon his back is given the right of way, 
 while here the rich hold their places on the sidewalk. No, 
 no, it is far better in our own country ! " 
 
 Silenced by this high morality, the whole party fell to 
 dreaming of home and friends and native land. 
 
 The arrival of Quong Lung aroused them and brought 
 
A Chinese Girl 129 
 
 them to a realization of the duties of the hour. Blessed 
 with the marvellous capacity of his race to adjust itself to 
 all the conditions of life, Quong Lung had gone imme- 
 diately upon arrival to a barber shop and had his head 
 shaven, his queue lengthened, and his trousers pressed. 
 No sign told of the storm that raged within him, no 
 shadow lingered in his black eyes to proclaim his discom- 
 fort. The most scrutinizing could only see the pleasure of 
 a man, who after long voyaging had arrived in port. 
 
 When the sentinel at the door announced him, each mem- 
 ber of the party arose and courteously inquired after his 
 welfare. For some he had messages, for others pack- 
 ages, and for all the kindly greetings of a well-bred man. 
 No attempt was made by him to introduce the subject 
 nearest to his heart, or to arouse sympathy. A delightful 
 evening was spent, and at three o'clock in the morning the 
 guests took their departure. 
 
 Ah Foon, the " peace-talker," however, remained. Left 
 to themselves, the two men waived ceremony and began in 
 earnest the business of the night. 
 
 " Be seated, noble brother," said Quong Lung, as he 
 drew a chair to the table, " be seated ; it is good to feel thee 
 near. All is well with thee, I hope." 
 
 " All is well, thanks to Ten Wang," replied Ah Foon. 
 
 " Thou hast heard of the little episode at the ship, as I 
 attempted to land my slaves ? " 
 
 " Yes," quoth Ah Foon, " I have heard it with sorrow. 
 The Exclusion Act makes it difficult for us to gather fam- 
 ilies about us in this land of the free." 
 
 " Yes, the law of the white man is directed against the 
 Mongolian," returned Quong Lung. 
 
 " I fear thou art correct, most noble brother," assented 
 Ah Foon. 
 
 " The business in which I am engaged has the sanction 
 
130 Ah Moy 
 
 • 
 of our own people, as thou knowest ; but the Western man 
 hampers us and makes it necessary that we meet him as 
 best we can. My attorney advises me that the landing of 
 the girls is now a matter of testimony. The members of 
 the Ho Wang Company are sworn, as thou knowest, to 
 stand together, and give bold counterstrokes to all who 
 persecute them. Here is sam-shu, let us drink to the con- 
 fusion of the white man's laws." 
 
 They drank and drank again, and pledged eternal 
 friendship. Then Quong Lung drew a gold piece from 
 his purse and offered it to Ah Foon, saying : — 
 
 " Bestow it upon whomsoever thou knowest to be in need, 
 that the gods may see that we have no evil in our hearts." 
 
 " No, no, the coin I will not accept," said Ah Foon, 
 " but if I can be of service thou knowest I shall be most 
 willing." 
 
 " It is to thee that I look for assistance," said Quong 
 Lung. 
 
 " Has your attorney, the white devil, informed you 
 what the law requires you to prove ? " questioned Ah Foon, 
 as he proceeded to light more joss sticks. 
 
 " Yes," replied Quong Lung, " we must conform to the 
 language of the Exclusion Act, which requires us to 
 prove that Ah Moy was born in the United States. My 
 astute counsel says there will be no trouble about landing 
 the half-breed." 
 
 " And what is the price thou wouldst pay for this tes- 
 timony .'' " 
 
 " Such as is commensurate with the exigencies of the 
 case. Is it sufficient if I return to thee the note that I 
 hold for one hundred dollars ? " 
 
 " The note I would fain pay in coin," said Ah Foon. 
 
 " Then you must name your price, and not be too hard 
 on a man who is in trouble," said Quong Lung. 
 
A Chinese Giul 131 
 
 " It is a serious business, and I would not mention less 
 than two hundred dollars," answered the peace-talker. 
 
 " What thou wilt do, thou wilt do," and they filled their 
 pipes and drank again to the confusion of the white man's 
 laws. 
 
 It was near daybreak when they left the building with 
 a mutual understanding to meet at the wharf at nine 
 o'clock. 
 
 At the mission house on Jackson street, there was also 
 night work on hand. Upon leaving the ship, Brother 
 Jones had gone straight to this place and informed the 
 inmates of the situation at the wharf. He believed the 
 girls to be slaves, and, with a well intentioned aggressive- 
 ness, he called upon his co-workers to rescue them. As 
 soon as he described Quong Lung, they all understood 
 that they had a foe worthy of their steel. Many an en- 
 counter had they had with him, and many a time had he 
 slipped through the meshes of the law. Although it was 
 long past office hours^ they sent for their attorney and 
 made such preparations as they could to rescue the girls. 
 
 Brother Jones accepted the hospitality of the house 
 for the night, and as the clock in the old tower was 
 striking two, his light flickered out. 
 
XIV 
 
 NOT until the passengers had all left the ship did the 
 girls begin to realize their situation. For a time 
 they looked, wonder-eyed, into the desolation about them, 
 and then they went back to the second cabin, where they 
 had spent the twenty-seven days of the voyage. Even the 
 packages that had filled all the available space would now 
 have been a welcome sight, but, one by one, they had all 
 been carried away until the only familiar object was 
 the pile of Chinese coffins just opposite the port-hole. 
 
 " I wish we were shut up in one of them," said Ah Moy, 
 " then we would be sure of getting back to lie with our an- 
 cestors in the family burial-ground." 
 
 " Oh, dear no ! That would be dreadful," exclaimed 
 Wing. They talked for a little while, and then too much 
 alarmed for serious thought, they sat down in gloomy 
 silence until the steward brought them supper. He 
 laughed and joked about Quong Lung's mishap, as if it 
 were an everyday occurrence for two unhappy girls to be 
 left alone on a great ship. 
 
 " Come and take a walk on deck," he said, when they 
 refuse the food he brought. But they shook their heads, 
 and very soon went frightened to bed. 
 
 The morning dawned, cold and windy, and the fog-horn 
 bellowed its warnings to the children of the sea. 
 
 On an old pile, just beyond the end of the wharf, sat 
 a large sea-gull, which the girls thought to be a bird of 
 evil omen. 
 
 " We shall be thrown overboard," said Wing, " My 
 
 132 
 
A Chinese Gikl 133 
 
 mother always said that when a bird sits still and utters 
 its solemn croak, it means that someone is surely going to 
 die." 
 
 " But that is better than to live and suffer disgrace," in- 
 terjected Ah Moy. 
 
 The crew staggered back, somewhat the worse for having 
 spent a night on shore, and everything on the ship showed 
 signs of disorder. A few Chinamen came early to the 
 wharf to select boxes and bundles, but always went back 
 before the girls could get a word with them. 
 
 " What shall we do," said Wing, " if no one comes for 
 us.?" 
 
 " Alas, I cannot answer," returned Ah Moy. 
 
 Before them was a bowl of rice that had been left by 
 the steward, and opposite to it there was a paper joss 
 which one of their countrymen, in the exuberance of his 
 joy, had forgotten. Ah Moy set the rice before the 
 sacred emblem, as though it might, in some mysterious 
 way, appease the wrath of an angry god. 
 
 Not until it was ten o'clock did a shaft of sunlight 
 flash through the port-hole and tell the girls that the fog 
 had cleared and the day was beautiful. Just then, a 
 Chinese servant came in to gather up the sheets and pillow 
 cases, and Wing mustered up courage to say : — 
 
 " Tell me, oh, tell me, what those people will do with 
 
 us 
 
 t" 
 
 " I do not know," he answered kindly, " I think Quong 
 Lung will come pretty soon." 
 
 Before he had finished speaking, there was a clatter 
 of footsteps on the stairs and a party of women came 
 down. They expressed great pleasure at finding the girls, 
 and sat down and chatted so pleasantly that the slaves 
 felt sure something was to be done in their behalf. This 
 hope lightened their fears, and they smiled as the ladies 
 
134 Ah Mot 
 
 made reference to them. Soon, another figure, which they 
 both rejoiced to see, came down the stairs. It was no 
 other than Dr. Richardson. Wing sprang into her arms 
 nestling her head upon her bosom, and the doctor looked 
 down upon her as a mother looks upon her own. 
 
 " This is the half-breed girl of whom you have heard," 
 she explained to her associates. 
 
 " Yes, doctor," said Miss Stevens, who was matron of 
 the missionary home, " I see you have been at work on 
 your voyage, and I am inclined to yield the palm to 
 you." 
 
 " Well," said the doctor, " I see the angel that is im- 
 prisoned in this block of stone, and I would be the instru- 
 ment in the hands of God for liberating it." 
 
 " But we who have been longest in the work, and can 
 read the symptoms, are rather doubtful," replied Miss 
 Stevens. 
 
 " We make sad mistakes about symptoms," said the 
 doctor. " The uneasy longings of the Eurasion, as a class, 
 may as well be symptoms of genius, or of mighty love, as 
 Symptoms of evil. I fear the idea of our own superiority 
 is a thin romance upon which we have fed until it has 
 warped our judgment." 
 
 This sharp repartee was an offense to Miss Stevens, who 
 replied : — 
 
 " I prefer your prescriptions, doctor, to your religious 
 opinions." 
 
 But she turned, and, looking squarely into the doctor's 
 face, asked : — 
 
 " What can you do for the girl? " 
 
 " Why," explained the doctor, " first save her from 
 Quong Lung, and then save her from herself. The half- 
 breed has the vices of both parents, I will admit, but 
 they're curable." 
 
A Chinese Giel 135 
 
 " As a class they are hard to manage," said the matron, 
 still doubtfully, " we have them occasionally at the home, 
 and they are apt to make trouble; the other girl is easily 
 saved." 
 
 " The other one is already saved," responded the doctor, 
 rather tartly ; " she has behind her ages upon ages of 
 virtuous ancestors, and she does not need any help from 
 us." 
 
 At this moment the steward came and requested them 
 aU to go on deck and meet the inspectors. The whole 
 party arose and tripped lightly up the stairs, followed 
 by the doctor, who still held Wing fast by the hand. As 
 they walked toward the gang-plank, they saw a number 
 of ojfBcials in close conversation with Brother Jones, while 
 a little apart stood Quong Lung and the peace-talker. Ah 
 Foon. A Chinese interpreter instructed the girls to hand 
 over their passports to the inspector ; this they understood, 
 and without hesitation obeyed. He was a kindly, well- 
 fed man, this official, and he smiled upon the girls as they, 
 timidly presented their papers. 
 
 " The law works cruelty upon such as these," he said, 
 at the same time unfolding the transcript of the Kwan 
 Yin record. He read the document carefully, and, with 
 a perplexed look, handed it to his brother inspector. 
 
 " It is certainly unusual. I do not remember to have 
 seen anything like It. It may be all right, but I should 
 not be willing to let her go ashore without consulting 
 someone higher in authority than myself." 
 
 " Yes," agreed the first inspector, " Quong Lung is a 
 shrewd fellow, and we might be misled by some of his 
 tricks." 
 
 They then unfolded Ah Moy's passport. 
 
 " This one is all right," said the first inspector, " I re- 
 member that when Quong Lung went to China, he took a 
 
136 Ah Mor 
 
 • 
 young woman with him and this is probably her return 
 
 passport." 
 
 " It may be all right, but I think we ought to be very 
 careful. We have made a number of mistakes in these 
 matters, and I do not hke to take the responsibility." 
 
 Then, turning to Ah Moy, he asked : — 
 
 " Can you remember where you were bom, little one? " 
 
 Ah Moy made no reply, but Quong Lung and his friend, 
 Ah Foon, threw themselves into the breach and declared 
 that she was bom in California. Here Brother Jones in- 
 terrupted 
 
 " It cannot be. I have seen too many Chinese to be- 
 lieve a word of it." 
 
 Thus the two forces met and clashed, and the inspectors, 
 not knowing what to do, very wisely decided to do nothing. 
 
 At this juncture Dr. Richardson volunteered to look for 
 Wing's father and promised if she found him to report to 
 the main office on Washington street. This was a little 
 light upon a dark subject, and finally the inspectors gave 
 both girls into her charge. 
 
 It was now near noon, and as there seemed to be no way 
 out of the dilemma, the doctor decided to take her charges 
 to the mission home. The inspectors accompanied the 
 httle party to the street and placed them all in a carriage. 
 
 As they were rapidly, whirled away. Ah Moy saw Quong 
 Lung and Ah Foon standing in close conversation at the 
 foot of the wharf. In her simple little heart she thought 
 that Ah Foon was the rich merchant who was waiting to 
 make her his wife. She saw, in the one short moment as 
 they passed him, that his clothing was of heavy silk and 
 his stockings were spotlessly white, and she remembered 
 the pang she had felt when she saw Ting Ho march past 
 her father's gate, to be no more seen forever. She re- 
 membered, too, the story of the great dragon who carries 
 
A Chinese Gibl 137 
 
 off little girls, and she wondered if she were not, even 
 now, going to the cave of the infant ghosts to build sand 
 towers to be blown away by the wind. 
 
 But although great waves of sorrow swept through her 
 heart, she sat motionless, waiting to obey any voice which 
 should point out a path through the darkness that sur- 
 rounded her, while, in sharp contrast, sat Wing weeping 
 and clinging to Dr. Richardson. 
 
 It was but a few moments' drive to the Home, and be- 
 fore they had time to understand what was going on, the 
 heavy doors of the mission closed upon them. Although 
 the ladies were very kind, they took the girls to a secure 
 room, beyond danger of ingress or egress, for they had 
 learned by experience to allow no opportunity for escape. 
 
 An assistant helped the girls to wash and readjust their 
 clothing, but she spoke only Cantonese and no conversa- 
 tion could be entered upon. She treated them kindly, 
 however, and, when they were ready, led them to a large 
 room where there were many Chinese girls. Not one of 
 these spoke the language of the Honan province, but the 
 kindness in their manner and the happy look in their 
 faces allayed the fears of the slaves, and they soon began 
 to look about the building. 
 
 The wonderful conveniences of water and of gas, the 
 large rooms, the strange furnishings and the spring beds, 
 appeared to them marvels of luxury. The piano, so much 
 larger than any musical instrument they had ever seen 
 before, astonished them, and when a class of girls lifted 
 up their voices and sang, they laughed quite merrily. 
 
 After an hour or so in the parlor, they arose and sig- 
 nified to one of the girls that they would like to return to 
 their room, so, after bowing gracefully three times, they 
 withdrew. When they were alone. Ah Moy said to 
 Wing : — 
 
138 Ah Moy 
 
 " How it all happens, I cannot tell, but these are the 
 very same kind of people that my father used to point out 
 to me when we rode past the mission on the Yang-tse- 
 Kiang river, and he liked them not." 
 
 " But," said Wing, " they are kind, and my doctor is 
 good. I wonder if they are all like her.? " 
 
 " My father used to say that the missionaries are all 
 alike," Ah Moy answered rather dubiously. » 
 
 All day the girls tried to hft the veil which had so mys- 
 teriously fallen across their way. They talked of Quong 
 Lung and his friend, of the long sea voyage, and the fruit 
 and flowers of Hawaii, and as the moon came out and the 
 roar of the great city began to hush. Ah Moy seemed to 
 hear the bells of the old Tien Dong, calling the saints to 
 prayer. In her uncomplaining grief she loosened her 
 long black hair, and with soft proud eyes, turned her 
 face to the east. 
 
 No thought had she of blaming anyone for the sorrow 
 that had come upon her; no thought had she of asking 
 God to lighten her burden. To face a sea of troubles, and 
 to act rightly her part, in the complex relation she bore to 
 it, and, if all failed, to use the knife, was the consumma- 
 tion of her Oriental training. A vague swarm of spirits 
 called to her out of the past, counseling her to acquit her- 
 self so as to honor her family name. 
 
 Thus the night and another day wore away, and early 
 the following morning a Chinese maid came to the door 
 and offered to assist them to dress, for it was now Sunday, 
 and all must be prepared for the morning service. They 
 did not understand very clearly what was wanted, but 
 the maid succeeded in dressing them neatly and in taking 
 them down in time for breakfast. 
 
 Miss Stevens knew how to assuage grief in human 
 hearts, and she allowed the girls to assist in the work, 
 
A Chinese Giel 139 
 
 especially in the arrangement of the flowers. Before 
 eleven o'clock there came a number of Chinamen, with 
 hymn books in their hands, who gathered around the piano 
 to practise the hymns that were to be used in the service, 
 and to assist in arranging the chairs and other details. 
 The leader of the choir was a very pretty young lady, who 
 chatted with the singers and seemed very fond of them. 
 The deadly discords they made and the Cantonese they 
 jabbered between the hymns, only elicited from her a laugh, 
 or a command to try it again. No objection was made 
 to joss sticks, or Buddhas, printed upon silk handker- 
 chiefs. 
 
 Precisely at eleven o'clock Brother Jones opened the 
 service with prayer. After thanking the Heavenly Father 
 for their safe arrival and for all the blessings of life, he 
 alluded to the great struggle going on in China and gave 
 many words of praise to the missionaries in that country. 
 Then he closed his prayer by asking the gentle Jesus to 
 visit his wrath upon the slave-dealer. A dangerous sense 
 of humor came twinkling into the eyes of the Chinamen; 
 but they suppressed it, and kept a respectful bearing 
 toward their visitor. 
 
 After the sermon Miss Stevens very adroitly cut short 
 any discussion by inviting everyone into the dining room 
 to partake of a cup of tea. 
 
 " The work here has taught me," she said to a friend, 
 " that it is hopeless to argue." 
 
 " Yes," replied the lady, who had herself been in the 
 service, " Chinamen cannot conceive of Jesus as a God 
 of vengeance." 
 
 Poor Brother Jones ! His illusions about retribution 
 clung to him like garments long worn. With a mind 
 biting at every creed except his own, the Chinese seemed 
 to him like so many insects, and he winced under the com- 
 
140 Ah Moy 
 
 • 
 promises that he saw more liberal minded missionaries 
 
 making. 
 
 The two girls sat through the to them strange service 
 without evincing a shadow of surprise. It was Ah Moy's 
 idea of a well-bred girl to " keep the face," and Wing f ol- | 
 lowed her example with exceeding cunning. Although 
 they felt that they were objects of comment, they man- 
 aged to appear very much at ease. 
 
 A number of women called during the afternoon and 
 asked to see the girls, and one richly attired lady offered 
 to adopt them. But Miss Stevens informed her that, for 
 the present at least, they had no jurisdiction over them. 
 
 " They are slaves," she said, " and sometimes we are 
 obliged to leave these matters to the courts." 
 
 " But is there no way to compel the courts ? " asked the 
 lady. 
 
 " No," answered Miss Stevens, " unfortunately, the 
 courts can compel us." 
 
 So passed Sunday. 
 
 Monday and Tuesday brought a round of work, in 
 which the girls joined, and before the end of the week they 
 were becoming accustomed to their surroundings. 
 
 The pale faces and blue eyes had no more terrors for 
 them, and although they could not understand all that 
 went on about them, confidence was growing, and the fact 
 that they were occupied with useful duties began to make 
 them feel at home. When they were entrusted with dainty 
 work, their nimble fingers never tired until it was finished 
 and a smile of approbation was received. 
 
 But another day brought a surprise for all. Not only 
 the girls, but all the missionaries, were thrown into the 
 greatest possible excitement by the arrival of Dr. Rich- 
 ardson, who came to inform them that the father of Wing 
 had recently died and left a large fortune. It was al- 
 
A Chinese Giel 141 
 
 most beyond belief when the doctor intimated that, in all 
 probability, Wing was more than a millionaire, " for," 
 she said, " Ukiah Grant lost his wife some years before 
 his own death, and there are no children except Wing to 
 inherit." 
 
 When Wing saw the doctor, she flew into her arms, 
 although she was not able to comprehend the news. Miss 
 Stevens, however, grasped the situation at once. 
 
 " The most practical thing you can do now," she said, 
 " is to apply to the court for letters of guardianship, and 
 if successful, try your theories upon your protege. But," 
 she added, " that would interfere with your work in 
 China." 
 
 " My work in China is finished," answered the doctor, 
 " I have seen enough to convince me that my duty is to 
 my own people. I hear the call of .the Aryan race, and 
 it is a call of distress. I hear it, and I should be less than 
 a patriot if I did not respond. If our young men could 
 be taught conscientious regard for their offspring, whether 
 it be legitimate or illegitimate, we should not see our na- 
 tional vices transplanted upon the shores of Asia to fester 
 there until our noble West becomes a byword among the 
 people. Abstemiousness and control over the appetites is 
 what our people need to learn." 
 
 " Let us pray for your success," said Miss Stevens, 
 " there is work enough to do right here in San Francisco. 
 But you know the difficulties, do you not.'' " 
 
 " Yes, I know there are difficulties. But I see beyond 
 them. If my services are of any value to mankind, it 
 must be along the line of teaching young people the mean- 
 ing of that great symbol, the serpent,* as it is taught to 
 the children of Asia." 
 
 * Sex wisdom. 
 
14<2 Ah Mot • 
 
 Again Miss Stevens said, doubtingly, " Let us pray for 
 success. But what is your plan about Wing? " 
 
 " Just what you outlined," replied the doctor, " I in- 
 tend to apply to the courts for letters of guardianship^ 
 and, if successful, to educate her as a medical missionary. 
 It is the noblest of work, and it would be poetic justice, 
 would it not, to see the abandoned child of lust turn upon 
 the vice that is gnawing at her throat and help to stamp 
 it out." 
 
 " Good has come out of Nazareth," said Miss Stevens ; 
 " perhaps it will again." 
 
 Dr. Richardson had now fully determined on her course. 
 She took her departure, but next morning was early at 
 the home with a new suit of clothes, and the never-to-be- 
 forgotten umbrella of the Chinese woman. As soon as 
 Wing was suitably dressed, she took her to the Probate 
 Court and had her name entered as the daughter of Ukiah 
 Grant. 
 
 There was much surprise and protest by those who 
 claimed to be heirs of the deceased ; but Quong Lung had 
 done his work too well to admit of a doubt. The trans- 
 script, signed, sealed and delivered by Woo Chow, in his 
 official capacity as recorder of Kwan Yin temple, was 
 easily verified by the Chinese minister plenipotentiary and 
 the judge, who was glad enough to see a way out of the 
 wrangle, that distant relatives had begun over the estate, 
 recognized Wing as the daughter of the dead millionaire. 
 
XV 
 
 AH MOY now settled down to her new life, and was 
 helping the girls with the sweeping and dusting, 
 while a £ew words of English were creeping into her vo- 
 cabulary. Miss Stevens had almost concluded that Quong 
 Lung had given up the fight, when one morning, just as 
 she was marshalling the week's work into order, the bell 
 was rung by a pompous-looking official. 
 
 Out of his side pocket projected a package of legal 
 documents, which he instinctively grasped as the door was 
 opened by a demure little Chinese girl. 
 
 " Can I see the person in authority here."* " he asked, 
 at the same time setting one foot firmly over the threshold. 
 
 " Do you mean Miss Wilkins, or the matron.'' " timidly 
 asked the girl. 
 
 " I mean the person in authority," replied the official in 
 such a tone that Sin Soy's almond-shaped eyes instinctively 
 turned toward her nose. 
 
 " Then you may be seated, sir, and I will look for the 
 matron." 
 
 The official took the chair nearest the door, and Sin Soy 
 fled through the hall toward the part of the house where 
 she thought Miss Stevens most likely to be found. 
 
 " He looks like a policeman," she cried as she rushed 
 into the dining-room ; " he looks like a policeman and he 
 wants to see you." 
 
 Miss Stevens threw off the long white apron she was 
 wearing, ran one hand hurriedly over her hair, and pro- 
 log 
 
14i4 Ah Moy ^ 
 
 ceeded to the hall. She was not altogether surprised when 
 her visitor served her with an order of court. 
 
 " Have you in charge a Chinese girl, lately arrived, 
 whom they call Ah Moy.? " he asked. 
 
 " I have," replied the matron, slightly flushing. At 
 this the oiBcer handed her a copy of a writ of habeas cor- 
 pus and said : — 
 
 " Then you must bring her into court that the judge 
 may decide to whom she shall be given. She is claimed 
 by Quong Lung as his daughter, is she not.'' " 
 
 " I presume she is," replied Miss Stevens, " but is there 
 no escape from this proceeding.'' My duties are pressing 
 and the uncertainty of justice makes it — " 
 
 " These are questions for the court to decide," inter- 
 rupted the officer, " the order is mandatory, and must be 
 obeyed." 
 
 Saying this, he tipped his hat and descended the steps 
 into the street. 
 
 As soon as he was gone. Miss Stevens gathered her little 
 band of assistants together and after a short conference 
 they decided that there was no way to escape the ordeal of 
 going into court. 
 
 " We must trust the good Father," said Miss Wilkins. 
 
 " And our lawyer," dryly remarked Miss Jones. 
 
 " If we could only send her away," lamented Miss 
 Stevens, " we have so many friends in Los Angeles who 
 would have taken her; but we should have done it sooner. 
 Now that the papers are served, I fear it is too late." 
 
 Miss Jordan, another missionary, now suggested that 
 they send for Brother Jones. 
 
 " None of us have any testimony to give in the case," 
 she said, " at least no such testimony as the court re- 
 quires. To be sure, we know but to make the court know 
 how we know is quite another thing." 
 
A Chinese Girl 145 
 
 In the midst of the discussion, Brother Jones came in. 
 He had heard of the trouble and knew that he should be 
 an important witness. But when he thought the matter 
 over seriously, he saw that he could only swear that Quong 
 Lung looked Cantonese, while Ah Moy looked every inch 
 northern born. Some of the missionaries believed in the 
 " blessed lie," but now that the time was ripe to put this 
 into practice, it seemed very difficult to do, for Quong 
 Lung's attorney had the reputation of being the very 
 best in the city, and they knew he would pour such a flood 
 of questions upon the witnesses in cross-examination that 
 the truth would be their only protection. 
 
 The fact that they could not speak understandingly with 
 Ah Moy made the situation still more difficult, and, taking 
 it all in all, there seemed to be no silver lining to the 
 cloud. 
 
 The case was set for hearing the following morning at 
 ten o'clock, and Miss Stevens prepared to be at the court- 
 house in time, 
 
 A Chinese inmate of the home arranged Ah Moy's hair 
 and dress in a way suitable for the occasion and other in- 
 mates loaned such articles of adornment as are dear to 
 the heart of girlhood. Ah Moy submitted with calm 
 reserve, but in her heart was deep sorrow lest she should 
 never again see Quong Lung and the rich merchant whom 
 she felt sure was waiting to make her his wife. All the 
 distance between China and San Francisco was not so fatal 
 to her happiness as the one wall between the mission home 
 and Chinatown. 
 
 The missionaries understood what was in the heart of 
 their charge and so took a closed carriage, guarding her 
 on both sides, as they rattled over the cobblestone streets 
 to the great building where law — and sometimes justice 
 — is administered. The judge was disposing of another 
 
14.6 Ah Moy . 
 
 case when Miss Stevens and Miss Wilkins, one on either side 
 of the Chinese girl, entered. The marshal saw them and 
 conducted them to seats inside the rail. 
 
 Very soon Quong Lung and his friend, Ah Foon, en- 
 tered the room and were about to take seats near the mis- 
 sionaries ; but the marshal motioned the Chinamen back, 
 and they were obhged to remain at a respectful distance. 
 The court room was filled with a throng, made up of all 
 sorts and conditions of men, but to all appearances the 
 stately judge was oblivious to everything except the doings 
 of a little circle of lawyers before him, who were review- 
 ing the testimony in a murder case which had just been 
 tried. An attorney, whom his brethren at the bar affec- 
 tionately addressed as " General," called the attention of 
 the court to the perverseness of the witnesses for the prose- 
 cution, and, according to his version, all who had testified 
 against his client had done so from pure malice. 
 
 The case lumbered along for an hour, when, suddenly, 
 there was a shuffling of feet, a movement of the crowd to- 
 ward the door, and the case of Quong Lung vs. The Occi- 
 dental Board of Missionaries, was called. Both attor- 
 neys were ready and Quong Lung, being the first witness, 
 took the stand. 
 
 " He testified clearly and pointedly that Ah Moy was 
 his daughter, twenty years old, and born in Cahfornia. 
 Upon cross-examination, he kept his story straight, and 
 told it convincingly. 
 
 " I came to California in 1872," he said, in response 
 to the inquiry of the attorney for the missionaries. 
 
 " How many wives did you bring with you.? " asked the 
 lawyer with the air of a man who has caught the witness 
 in a lie. 
 
 "Three wives — all the time large family — all the 
 time plenty of trouble with the missionaries." 
 
A Chinese Gikl 147 
 
 " That's all," replied the lawyer, " we do not want to 
 hear anything about your troubles." 
 
 Then Ah Foon was sworn and testified that he had 
 known Ah Moy from babyhood, and that she was the 
 daughter of Quong Lung, born in California, and twenty 
 years old. 
 
 A look of satisfaction beamed on the face of Quong 
 Lung's attorney, as he turned the witness over to Mr. 
 Brown for cross-examination, for he knew by long ex- 
 perience how hopeless would be any attempt of the defend- 
 ant to go very far into the family life of Quong Lung. 
 
 " No questions," said the lawyer, seeing how difficult his 
 case was getting. At this, with a business-like air, the 
 attorney for the plaintiff handed the judge what pur- 
 ported to be the passport of Ah Moy. The judge read 
 the paper over very carefully and said, " It seems to be 
 in conformity with the law. Let us hear the witnesses for 
 the defense." 
 
 Brother Jones now stepped forward, but something in 
 his manner seemed to be asking for lenity. He swore 
 that he was a passenger on the Hong Kong Maru, and 
 that he had only known Ah Moy for the short period of 
 twenty-seven days. He thought she was a slave, because 
 she appeared to be northern bred, while, according to his 
 judgment, Quong Lung was Cantonese. 
 
 " It was common talk on the ship that Quong Lung 
 was a slave-dealer," he said. 
 
 " Objected to," said the attorney for Quong Lung, " as 
 incompetent, immaterial and irrelevant." 
 
 " Objection sustained," ruled the judge; " tell what you 
 know of your own personal knowledge." 
 
 Then Brother Jones had to admit that of his own per- 
 sonal knowledge, he knew nothing. Neither could Miss 
 Stevens or Miss Wilkins say anything to help the case. 
 
148 Ah Moy ^ 
 
 They requested that Ah Moy be put on the stand to tes- 
 tify through an interpreter; but the judge objected on 
 the ground of her having no knowledge of the solemnity of 
 an oath. And after a little further inquiry he took her 
 to his chambers and there tried to elicit something from 
 her to guide him in his decision. Owing to the fact, how- 
 ever, that his conscience had been reduced, by a purely 
 legal process, to a tacit desire to fulfill the letter of the 
 law, nothing but such considerations came to his mind. 
 
 As far as anything could be wrung from Ah Moy, the 
 facts were just as Quong Lung had declared them to be. 
 The sight of the foreigners did not frighten her, as it had 
 done at first, and she could now remember the words, 
 " born in California." These she repeated, parrot-like, 
 and then became a perfect blank. No smile or frown could 
 wring from her another word. The repose of her bearing 
 and her persistent refusal to talk, confirmed the judge in 
 his opinion that everything was as it should be, and he 
 decided to let her go with whomsoever she pleased. 
 
 " I see nothing in the case to warrant suspicion," he 
 said. 
 
 But the missionaries, the people standing about the 
 room, and even the janitor, knew that another slave-girl 
 had been added to those already in Chinatown. 
 
 
 
 \i 
 
XVI 
 
 As soon as the judge had rendered his decision, Quong 
 Lung made a bold advance towards Ah Moy, and 
 Ah Foon followed him. 
 
 " Come to me," said Quong Lung, with determination 
 in his voice, and Ah Moy made not the slightest attempt 
 to disobey. He took her hand and led her out of the 
 court room, while Ah Foon took his place as rear-guard. 
 
 " It is uncertain business," said Quong Long, when 
 they were safely outside the door. 
 
 " Yes," asserted Ah Foon, " but what they will do — 
 they will do — these fierce Americans. To run the gaunt- 
 let of the court and succeed, is surely better than to run 
 and lose." 
 
 Quong Lung smiled a sickly smile. The iron that 
 entered his soul was the loss of money that he had sus- 
 tained, first in Wing's escape, and second, in the heavy fees 
 that he knew would be wrung from him by his lawyer. 
 He made the best of the situation, however, and when a 
 hackman approached and asked if he desired a carriage, 
 he replied by lifting Ah Moy upon the back seat, while 
 he as unceremoniously flung himself on the seat facing 
 her. When he had instructed the driver where to go, he 
 lowered the curtains and sat sullenly until they reached 
 Chinatown. 
 
 There he dismissed the hackman, and led Ah Moy 
 through a narrow street and up a flight of stairs to a 
 room known as the old " slave-hall." A Chinese woman 
 received her and took her to a smaller room, where on 
 
 149 
 
150 Ah Moy 
 
 wooden boxes, were arranged all the paraphernalia of 
 female adornment, and immediately she began rearranging 
 her hair and dress. She was not cross, this old woman, 
 as Ah Moy remembered Wang to have been ; but she knew 
 her business, and did it in a most unceremonious manner. 
 Very soon, Ah Moy looked her best, according to the 
 Oriental idea, and she was then led back to the hall. 
 
 It was not long before Quong Lung returned, accom- 
 panied by, a number of Chinamen, who were anxious to 
 purchase wives. Ah Moy suited the most fastidious of 
 them; but her owner held her at a very high price. For 
 this reason, several days passed, and no sale was effected. 
 
 Meanwhile the newspapers were exploiting some of the 
 facts about the case and the judge's decision, and this 
 aroused the fears of Quong Lung that other legal pro- 
 cedure might be instituted. He therefore removed Ah 
 Moy to another house in Chinatown — a place which sees 
 — but tells no tales. Through dark passages and dingy 
 halls, he led the poor girl to an upstairs room, no larger 
 than a cell, and there locked the door upon her. 
 
 Through the iron bars she could see other rooms like 
 her own, all opening into a hallway, which was lighted 
 only by windows overhead. In each of these rooms were 
 young women, with painted faces and embroidered cloth- 
 ing; but as Ah Moy heard them speaking only Cantonese, 
 she could not enter into conversation. From below, 
 throbbing up through the floor, came the squeaky tones of 
 a sam sin, the rattle of dice, and the odor of opium smoke. 
 
 Intuition, which teaches the young and the pure, told 
 Ah Moy that she was now in a dangerous place. She 
 looked about to see if, perchance, she might find a way of 
 escape, but no passage was visible in any direction. As 
 she sat, undecided what to do, she heard a voice in one of 
 the cells near her, crooning a child's song that she had 
 
A Chinese Giel 151 
 
 often heard at home. Although she could not see the per- 
 son who was singing, she spoke and asked if there were 
 no way by which she might leave the place. 
 
 " No, ah, no," was the sad reply, " We are the slaves 
 of Quong Lung, and the only possible way of getting help 
 is to find someone who will carry a message to the mis- 
 sionaries. But this is hard to do, for no one comes here 
 unless he is sworn to secrecy." 
 
 "Oh," said Ah Moy, "how dreadful! I have just 
 come from the missionaries, and now how glad I should 
 be to go back to them." 
 
 " They are kind people and would help us if they 
 could," answered the voice, " but I have tried many times 
 to get a message to them but have never succeeded." 
 
 This was discouraging news to little Ah Moy. She 
 sat down almost in despair and thought over the situation. 
 She drew from her sleeve the knife that her father had 
 given her, and fondled it almost as though it were a living 
 thing. Until far into the night she waited uncomplain- 
 ingly, and then, overcome by fatigue and anxiety, she 
 lay down upon the bed and dropped into a troubled sleep. 
 At daybreak, she was again listening for the footsteps 
 of Quong Lung, whom she hoped would come and bring 
 her some sort of relief. It was nearly noon when she 
 heard the key grate in her door and he entered, bringing 
 food and some articles of adornment, which he commanded 
 her to wear. He then left her without a word, and she 
 sat down alone to her scanty meal. 
 
 When she had eaten, she combed her long black hair, 
 and again waited calmly to see what the gods might have 
 in store for her. Toward night the outer door was sud- 
 denly thrown open and a crowd of men pushed in, 
 scrambling for standing room before the cells of the 
 prettiest girls. Many of their visitors were stupid with 
 
152 Ah Mov 
 
 • 
 opium, and insolent in their language. Often did Ah Moy 
 feel the blood tingle in her veins and the fire flash in her 
 eyes. One young Chinaman stopped before a cell near 
 her and remarked upon the beauty of its occupant and 
 the fineness of the jewelry she wore. Jests about feet 
 and eyebrows brought laughter from some, when sud- 
 denly a bold hand pointed to Ah Moy and its owner said : 
 
 " This one has only been over a short time ; they say 
 she is of noble birth." 
 
 " Ah, ha," said another, " then she is the little girl that 
 Quong Lung has had so much trouble about." 
 
 " Yes," quoth his companion, " she is stiU grieving for 
 her parents, and it adds much to her beauty." 
 
 Ah Moy heard and was now fully conscious of her posi- 
 tion. 
 
 She felt that at any moment some one of that lustful 
 throng might present himself within her door and claim 
 her trembling body. She fled to the farthermost corner 
 of her cell and, like a bird caught in a trap, turned her 
 face to the wall. The bell in the old church tower was 
 striking twelve when she heard the door behind her open, 
 and, looking around, she saw a portly Chinaman. He 
 bore wine and sweets and with honeyed words tried to per- 
 suade her to eat. Ah Moy was now too desperate to hear. 
 There was roaring in her ears, and darkness in her eyes, 
 and she could remember nothing but the story of the old 
 'Dragon who devours young girls. She clutched at the 
 wall in an eff^ort to escape, but when she felt the man's 
 hand upon her, she turned upon him with the fury of a 
 wildcat and struck him with the knife, inflicting such a 
 gash on his face that he staggered through the door and 
 disappeared. 
 
 It was now near morning. The fog fell In cold, damp 
 • sheets through the grating of her cell. The hall was 
 
A Chinese Girl 153 
 
 deserted, save for a few opium-eaters who slumbered in a 
 corner, and the only noise on the street was the rattle of 
 early wagons. In grief, Ah Moy threw herself upon the 
 bed and tried to gather her distracted thoughts into some- 
 thing like order. She prayed to the god of her fathers, 
 and she droned a chant that the priests had taught her 
 many years before. This, however, was the crucial test 
 which brought her into a new state of consciousness. 
 When she arose, a spiritual illumination shone in her face 
 and shimmered like a halo about her body. In her heart 
 there was no more fear, for she was able to trust herself 
 entirely to the gods. In imagination she heard the gentle 
 voices of her ancestors counselling her to be brave and fear 
 not. She remembered a little poem, written by Hau Hsi 
 two hundred years before Christ, and repeated it to her- 
 self. 
 
 "Forth from the Eastern gate my steed I drive. 
 
 And, lo, a cemetery meets my view. 
 Aspens around in wild luxuriance thrive. 
 
 The path is fringed with fir, and pine, and yew. 
 
 " How fast the lights and shadows change to gray. 
 How like a summer's day my life has fled; 
 
 How a frail life is snuffed away. 
 
 To sleep in silence with its coffined dead." 
 
 More than ever the ivory-handled knife seemed a con- 
 necting link between herself and her parents. Her father 
 had treasured it and had put it into her hand as a sacred 
 gift, and now strangely, oh, so strangely, it had come to 
 be the only thing she had with which to cut herself loose 
 from the intricate web of a distracted life. 
 
 One loving little letter she scribbled to her father, tell- 
 
154< Ah Moy 
 
 ing him that she was going like the daughter of a noble- 
 man to join the army of her ancestors, " and father dear," 
 she wrote, " the gods have been good to me, for I have 
 escaped the worst of all evils — that of disgracing my 
 parents." Then in noble self-f orgetf ulness, she added : i 
 " And father, you must think better of the missionaries ; 
 they tried to take care of me, but I could not understand." 
 
 The soul of the Far East was in every word. That 
 splendid scorn of death, which is the result of training, 
 reaching far back into the remotest night of forgotten 
 time, made her brave and lifted her out of the dark 
 waters that threatened to engulf her. To her the Oriental 
 suicide was now a duty and a sacrament. She knew that 
 the highest honor ever paid to women in her beloved 
 Cathay was paid to those who successfully protected them- 
 selves from dishonor. She folded the sheet of white paper 
 that lay upon her table into the form of a lotus flower, 
 and then, with steady precision, made a gash in her throat 
 from which the blood leaped in throbbing jets. 
 
 At ten o'clock they found her body cold and stiff, the 
 letter to her father folded neatly on the table, and the 
 knife still in her hand. 
 
J 
 
 K ^