I said, "Thou hast seen the coolies
tracking on the tow-path with their heavy wadded clothing wet with
rain. If it were not for the kindly sun which dries them, how could they
toil and work and drag the great rice-boats up to the water-gate? Is he
not a God to them?"
I told them also of Chang-ngo, the great, great beauty who drank the
cup of life eternal. She went to the moon, where the jealous Gods
turned her into a great black toad. She is there, forever thinking,
mourning over her lost beauty, and when we see the soft haze come
over the face of the moon, we know that she is weeping and filling the
space with her tears.
I perhaps am wrong to tell the foolish tales to the children, but they
grow so tired of the hard benches and Chang-tai, the teacher, who
glares at them so fiercely when they speak not quickly enough to
please him.
There has been much gossip from the valley over the mountain-side. It
seems an iron bridge is being put across the river, and strange men
come and peer at the countryside through witch glasses. It has made
the good spirits of the air to draw apart from the valley, and the cattle
have died and the rice not ripened, and much sorrow has gone
broadcast.
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