Part 1

CHINESE FABLES AND FOLK STORIES

BY MARY HAYES DAVIS AND CHOW-LEUNG

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY YIN-CHWANG WANG TSEN-ZAN

NEW YORK ⁘ CINCINNATI ⁘ CHICAGO AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY

TO MY FRIEND MARY F. NIXON-ROULET

PREFACE

It requires much study of the Oriental mind to catch even brief glimpses of the secret of its mysterious charm. An open mind and the wisdom of great sympathy are conditions essential to making it at all possible.

Contemplative, gentle, and metaphysical in their habit of thought, the Chinese have reflected profoundly and worked out many riddles of the universe in ways peculiarly their own. Realization of the value and need to us of a more definite knowledge of the mental processes of our Oriental brothers, increases wonderfully as one begins to comprehend the richness, depth, and beauty of their thought, ripened as it is by the hidden processes of evolution throughout the ages.

To obtain literal translations from the mental store-house of the Chinese has not been found easy of accomplishment; but it is a more difficult, and a most elusive task to attempt to translate their fancies, to see life itself as it appears from the Chinese point of view, and to retell these impressions without losing quite all of their color and charm.

The “impressions,” the “airy shapes” formed by the Oriental imagination, the life touches and secret graces of its fancy are at once the joy and despair of the one who attempts to record them.

In retelling these Chinese stories of home and school life, the writer has been greatly aided by the Rev. Chow Leung, whose evident desire to serve his native land and have the lives of his people reflected truly, has made him an invaluable collaborator. With the patient courtesy characteristic of the Chinese, he has given much time to explaining obscure points and answering questions innumerable.

It has been an accepted belief of the world’s best scholars that Chinese literature did not possess the fable, and chapters in interesting books have been written on this subject affirming its absence. Nevertheless, while studying the people, language, and literature of China it was the great pleasure of the writer to discover that the Chinese have many fables, a few of which are published in this book.

As these stories, familiar in the home and school life of the children of China, show different phases of the character of a people in the very processes of formation, it is earnestly hoped that this English presentation of them will help a little toward a better understanding and appreciation of Chinese character as a whole.

MARY HAYES DAVIS.

INTRODUCTION

To begin with, let me say that this is the first book of Chinese stories ever printed in English that will bring the Western people to the knowledge of some of our fables, which have never been heretofore known to the world. In this introduction, however, I shall only mention a few facts as to why the Chinese fables, before this book was produced, were never found in any of the European languages.

First of all, our fables were written here and there in the advanced literature, in the historical books, and in the poems, which are not all read by every literary man except the widely and deeply educated literati.

Secondly, all the Chinese books, except those which were provided by missionaries for religious purposes, are in our book language, which is by no means alike to our spoken language. For this reason, I shall be excused to say that it is impossible for any foreigner in China to find the Chinese fables. In fact, there has never been a foreigner in our country who was able to write or to read our advanced books with a thorough understanding. A few of our foreign friends can read some of our easy literature, such as newspapers, but even that sort of literature they are unable to write without the assistance of their native teachers. These are facts which have not, as yet, become known to the Western people who know not the peculiarity of our language—its difficulty.

This book of fables is not of course intended to give a full idea of the Chinese literature, but it shows the thinking reader a bird’s-eye view of the Chinese thought in this form of literature. Furthermore, so far as I know, this book being the first of its kind, will tell the world of the new discovery of the Chinese fables.

YIN-CHWANG WANG TSEN-ZAN. 章韞善增王 高加士拦序 The University of Chicago, 校學大 Chicago, Ill., U. S. A.

CONTENTS

PAGE How the Moon became Beautiful 月何以美 13 The Animals’ Peace Party 羣獸議和 17 The Widow and her Son 能孝能弟 22 The Evergreen Tree and the Wilderness Marigold 金盞花不如永緣樹 27 The Snail and the Bees 蜂蝸之爭 31 The Proud Chicken 傲雞 37 The Lemon Tree and the Pumelo 檸檬與酸梅 42 Woo Sing and the Mirror 借鏡訓子 46 Two Mothers and a Child 二母一孩 48 A Boy Who Would Not Tell a Lie 童不說謊 55 A Great Repentance and a Great Forgiveness 悔恕並行 60 The Man who loved Money better than Life 愛財勝於愛命 66 The Hen and the Chinese Mountain Turtle 雞龞之爭 68 The Boy of Perfect Disposition 完全之性格 74 What the Yen Tzi taught the Hunter 獵人受敎於鳥 79 A Lesson from Confucius 孔子之敎誨 83 The Wind, the Clouds, and the Snow 風雲雪 86 The Fish and the Flowers 魚花異味 95 The Hen, the Cat, and the Bird 雞猫鳥 98 The Boy who wanted the Impossible 欲所不能欲者 103 The Boy who became a Hsao-tsze 王孝子 110 The Hunter, the Snipe, and the Bivalve 獵者獨得 118 The Mule and the Lion 騾獅訪猪 124 The Fa-Nien-Ts’ing and the Mön-Tien-Sing 滿天星不如萬年靑 128 The Body that deserted the Stomach 身不願養胃 136 The Proud Fox and the Crab 傲狐辱蟹 141 A Little Chinese Rose 小梅女 144 The Eagle and the Rice Birds 物必歸原 147 The Children and the Dog 孩童與犬 155 The Two Mountains 兩大山 159 A Chinese Prodigal Son 浪子歸家 167 The Lion and the Mosquitoes 獅受蚊敵 176 The Thief and the Elephant 以象問案 181 The General, the Bird, and the Ant 將軍賴蟻 185 Three Girls who went to a Boys’ School 名符其行 191 The Rattan Vine and the Rose Tree 蔓莖與梅樹 198 The Melon and the Professor 學由瓜得 203

HOW THE MOON BECAME BEAUTIFUL

月何以美

The Moon is very beautiful with his round, bright face which shines with soft and gentle light on all the world of man. But once there was a time when he was not so beautiful as he is now. Six thousand years ago the face of the Moon became changed in a single night. Before that time his face had been so dark and gloomy that no one liked to look at him, and for this reason he was always very sad.

One day he complained to the flowers and to the stars—for they were the only things that would ever look in his face.

He said, “I do not like to be the Moon. I wish I were a star or a flower. If I were a star, even the smallest one, some great general would care for me; but alas! I am only the Moon and no one likes me. If I could only be a flower and grow in a garden where the beautiful earth women come, they would place me in their hair and praise my fragrance and beauty. Or, if I could even grow in the wilderness where no one could see, the birds would surely come and sing sweet songs for me. But I am only the Moon and no one honors me.”

The stars answered and said, “We can not help you. We were born here and we can not leave our places. We never had any one to help us. We do our duty, we work all the day and twinkle in the dark night to make the skies more beautiful.—But that is all we can do,” they added, as they smiled coldly at the sorrowful Moon.

Then the flowers smiled sweetly and said, “We do not know how we can help you. We live always in one place—in a garden near the most beautiful maiden in all the world. As she is kind to every one in trouble we will tell her about you. We love her very much and she loves us. Her name is Tseh-N’io.”

Still the Moon was sad. So one evening he went to see the beautiful maiden Tseh-N’io. And when he saw her he loved her at once. He said, “Your face is very beautiful. I wish that you would come to me, and that my face would be as your face. Your motions are gentle and full of grace. Come with me and we will be as one—and perfect. I know that even the worst people in all the world would have only to look at you and they would love you. Tell me, how did you come to be so beautiful?”

“I have always lived with those who were gentle and happy, and I believe that is the cause of beauty and goodness,” answered Tseh-N’io.

And so the Moon went every night to see the maiden. He knocked on her window, and she came. And when he saw how gentle and beautiful she was, his love grew stronger, and he wished more and more to be with her always.

One day Tseh-N’io said to her mother, “I should like to go to the Moon and live always with him. Will you allow me to go?”

Her mother thought so little of the question that she made no reply, and Tseh-N’io told her friends that she was going to be the Moon’s bride.

In a few days she was gone. Her mother searched everywhere but could not find her. And one of Tseh-N’io’s friends said,—“She has gone with the Moon, for he asked her many times.”

A year and a year passed by and Tseh-N’io, the gentle and beautiful earth maiden, did not return. Then the people said, “She has gone forever. She is with the Moon.”

The face of the Moon is very beautiful now. It is happy and bright and gives a soft, gentle light to all the world. And there are those who say that the Moon is now like Tseh-N’io, who was once the most beautiful of all earth maidens.

THE ANIMALS’ PEACE PARTY

羣獸議和

The ancient books say that the pig is a very unclean animal and of no great use to the world or man, and one of them contains this story:

Once upon a time the horses and cattle gave a party. Although the pigs were very greedy, the horses said, “Let us invite them, and it may be we can settle our quarrels in this way and become better friends. We will call this a Peace Party.

“Generations and generations of pigs have broken through our fence, taken our food, drunk our water, and rooted up our clean green grass; but it is also true that the cattle children have hurt many young pigs.

“All this trouble and fighting is not right, and we know the Master wishes we should live at peace with one another. Do you not think it a good plan to give a Peace Party and settle this trouble?”

The cattle said, “Who will be the leader of our party and do the inviting? We should have a leader, both gentle and kind, to go to the pigs’ home and invite them.”

The next day a small and very gentle cow was sent to invite the pigs. As she went across to the pigs’ yard, all the young ones jumped up and grunted, “What are you coming here for? Do you want to fight?”

“No, I do not want to fight,” said the cow. “I was sent here to invite you to our party. I should like to know if you will come, so that I may tell our leader.”

The young pigs and the old ones talked together and the old ones said, “The New Year feast will soon be here. Maybe they will have some good things for us to eat at the party. I think we should go.”

Then the old pigs found the best talker in all the family, and sent word by him that they would attend the party.

The day came, and the pigs all went to the party. There were about three hundred all together.

When they arrived they saw that the leader of the cows was the most beautiful of all the herd and very kind and gentle to her guests.

After a while the leader spoke to them in a gentle voice and said to the oldest pig, “We think it would be a good and pleasant thing if there were no more quarrels in this pasture.

“Will you tell your people not to break down the fences and spoil the place and eat our food? We will then agree that the oxen and horses shall not hurt your children and all the old troubles shall be forgotten from this day.”

Then one young pig stood up to talk. “All this big pasture belongs to the Master, and not to you,” he said. “We can not go to other places for food.

“The Master sends a servant to feed us, and sometimes he sends us to your yard to eat the corn and potatoes.

“The servants clean our pen every day. When summer comes, they fill the ponds with fresh water for us to bathe in.

“Now, friends, can you not see that this place and this food all belongs to the Master? We eat the food and go wherever we like. We take your food only after you have finished. It would spoil on the ground if we did not do this.

“Answer this question—Do our people ever hurt your people? No; even though every year some of our children are killed by bad oxen and cows.

“What is your food? It is nothing; but our lives are worth much to us.

“Our Master never sends our people to work as he does the horses and oxen. He sends us food and allows us to play a year and a year the same, because he likes us best.

“You see the horses and oxen are always at work. Some pull wagons, others plow land for rice; and they must work—sick or well.

“Our people never work. Every day at happy time we play; and do you see how fat we are?

“You never see our bones. Look at the old horses and the old oxen. Twenty years’ work and no rest!

“I tell you the Master does not honor the horses and oxen as he does the pigs.

“Friends, that is all I have to say. Have you any questions to ask? Is what I have said not the truth?”

The old cow said, “Moo, Moo,” and shook her head sadly. The tired old horses groaned, “Huh, Huh,” and never spoke a word.

The leader said, “My friends, it is best not to worry about things we can not know. We do not seem to understand our Master.

“It will soon be time for the New Year feast day; so, good night. And may the pig people live in the world as long and happily as the horses and the oxen, although our Peace Party did not succeed.”

On their way home the little pigs made a big noise, and every one said, “We, we! We win, we win!”

Then the old horses and oxen talked among themselves. “We are stronger, wiser, and more useful than the pigs,” they said. “Why does the Master treat us so?”

Ee-Sze (Meaning): Why have some more power than others? Only one knows. Why have some longer life than others? Only one knows. Why do some try and not succeed; while others do not try and yet they do succeed? Only one knows.

THE WIDOW AND HER SON [1]

A STORY OF THE FAMINE IN SHANG-TONG PROVINCE

能孝能弟

A widow had two sons, Yao-Pao, a lad yet in school, and Yao-Moi who tilled the soil.

Yao-Moi, the elder, was a good man; he had worked hard for thirty years, but he had not gained riches. He sent Yao-Pao to school and served his mother well.

One year there were great rains. The grain all died in the ground and the people of that country had nothing to eat. Yao-Moi had debts which he could not pay, and when his harvest failed he became poorer than ever before.

Then there came a great famine and twenty thousand people died in that land. Yao-Moi killed his oxen to keep his mother and brother from starving. Last of all he killed the horses and mules, for it was yet six months before the time of harvest. Each time when he would kill for meat, the neighbors would come and beg food, and because he was sorry for them, he could not refuse.

One widow came many times until she was ashamed to beg longer from the little that he had. Finally she brought a girl child to him and said, “We are again starving. I will give you this girl for some meat. She is strong and can serve your mother,” But Yao-Moi said, “No, I will give you the meat. I can not take your girl from you.”

So he gave her meat once more, and she took the meat home to her son. But when it was gone and they were weak and fierce again with the death hunger, the widow said, “We shall all die, unless one dies to save the others. My son can not longer walk. I will kill the girl child and save his life. He can then eat.” Her son said, “No, do not kill the girl, trade her to Yao-Moi for meat.” And the mother said, “Yao-Moi will soon starve, too, and then he will kill her. It is better that I do it;” and she took the big sharp knife to make it sharper.

She laid the girl child down on a bench and prepared to kill; but Yao-Moi passed by the house just then, and hearing the moans and screams he stopped to ask the reason. And the widow said, “We are starving. We will have a funeral to-day. We will now kill and eat each other that the last one may live until the time of the harvest.” But Yao-Moi said, “Oh, no, do not kill the girl, I will take her home with me, and you can have meat in exchange for her;” and he took her to his home and gave the widow many pounds of meat for herself and her dying son.

Four months passed by. Yao-Moi had nothing in his own house to eat, and they were all starving—Yao-Moi, his mother, his little brother, and the girl.

When the death hunger came, and the mother saw that her sons must die, she said, “I will kill the girl.” But Yao-Moi said, “No, I think we shall not die. Let us sleep to-night and see. I think something surely will come. Better kill me than the girl child.”

So they went to bed that night. It was winter and the house was cold and dark. There was no wood, no light, no food; and they were starving.

Now, as the house grew more cold and dark, there came to them the quiet of a great despair and they all slept.

And Yao-Moi had a dream, and he saw an old man in flowing white garments, with a belt of gold around his waist. His hair was long and white, and his face was gentle and kind. And he called, “Yao-Moi! Yao-Moi! Yao-Moi! Hearken unto my words. Do you know how many people are dead in this land?”

Yao-Moi answered, “No, but I do know they are many, for only three among a hundred of all that were are now left.”

And the old man said, “In every house but yours some have died, but those of your household are all alive: you have also saved the girl child. I know you are a good man. You have plowed the soil for thirty years, and have never complained about the heaven or the earth. The thunder and waters come, the winds blow and the earth quakes, and still you are patient and kind. You are good to your mother. You support your brother, send him to school, and are as a father to him. You have a kind heart for your neighbors’ troubles. You live a good life and, because of this, you shall not starve. To-morrow morning you must arise early and go to the East Mountain by the wilderness. There you will find many meats and nuts and seeds. Bring them home to your family. I am a spirit sent from the Greatest One to earth.”

After saying these things the man went out and Yao-Moi arose with great joy and told his family. Then he went to the East Mountain by the wilderness, where he found corn and peanuts and the meat of two hundred foxes already prepared to eat.

And he was very glad, and brought home much food and saved many lives.

Ee-Sze (Meaning): If people do good they will have reward.

THE EVERGREEN TREE AND THE WILDERNESS MARIGOLD

金盞花不如永緣樹

When the springtime comes in China, the marigold (long-life flower) grows everywhere—on the mountains, in the fields, and by the river side.

The marigold is very proud of its great family which is so numerous that the earth seems hardly large enough for it.

Once there was a marigold family that lived beneath an evergreen tree. They grew together all summer long, side by side, arms interwoven with arms, and leaves mingling with leaves.

Every year the tree grew larger, until at last no more sunshine or rain could come through its thick leaves and branches.

One day the marigold said to the evergreen tree, “Whom does this mountain belong to? You are only one, while our family grow in thousands everywhere. We have beautiful flowers from the summer time until the autumn comes. These flowers bear seeds that live through the winter, and in the spring another generation appears. In the summer time people come many miles to this mountain to see us.

“These people take our flowers home. Some of us they put in baskets and call basket flowers. Some they put in the maidens’ hair and they call us maiden flowers. School boys like us on their tables and the pupils say we are their flowers. Old people gather us for their birthdays and we are called long-life flowers, and when maidens are married, our flowers are placed in a dish and they worship the Flower God, and call us the pure flower.

“So you see how pretty the names are that have been given us and how many people need us for their happiness.

“We must bring more and more flowers into the world, for there are not enough even yet.

“But we that live under your shade are not happy. You take away the sun so that he never shines on us, and when the rain comes, not a drop can reach our throats. The breeze comes, but never into our house—no fresh air, no sunshine, no rain, until we fear that we shall die.

“For eighty years our family has lived here. Our children sometimes say, ‘We hope that next year we may have sunshine,’ or ‘We hope that we may soon have rain to drink.’ Still no sunshine and no rain can reach us.

“You have destroyed many of our people. When will you allow us to have sun, rain, and air? Do you not know that you are killing us?”