Part 2

Then the evergreen tree said, “My dear friend, I can not prevent this. Your people are more easily moved than I am. We are three brothers who have lived here hundreds of years and we are here forever. If our great bodies were moved we should die. It is you who should go away from here. Your seeds are light and it would be easy for them to go.

“When summer comes the children need us here. When the sun is hot the boys and girls sit under our shade, and even though we may kill some of your family, yet must we serve mankind. Do you not know that the children hang swings, and that women hang their babies’ beds in our arms? The children also play ride-the-horse, and climb up in our arms, and have many games in our shade.

“Although we serve them and make them happy, yet they are not always kind to us, for sometimes they cut our bark. Students write words in my body with a sharp knife, but I can not prevent it. I have cried many years about this one thing and I would like to go away from here—but how can I move?

“I do not wish to hurt you, dear friend, any more than I wish to be hurt by others; but I am a mountain evergreen and must stand here forever. I hope you will be able to go, for we do not want to quarrel.”

The marigold bowed her head and made no reply. And a deep silence came over the evergreen tree as he grew and grew, a year and a hundred years, and many, many more.

Ee-Sze (Meaning): The weak can not live with the strong. The poor can not stay with the rich. Only equals are happy together.

THE SNAIL AND THE BEES

THE MOD [2] AND THE FON

蜂蝸之爭

One day the king of the bees with his followers passed by the snail’s door with a great noise. The mother snail said, “I have sixteen babies asleep on a leaf, and they must sleep fifteen days before they can walk. You will surely wake them. You are the noisiest creatures that pass my door. How can my children sleep? Yesterday your family and a crowd of your silly followers were here and made a great noise, and now to-day you come again. If I lose one baby because of all this, I will go to your house and destroy it. Then you will have no place to live. Do you know that this tree belongs to me? My master planted it twenty years ago, that I and my children might feed on its fruit. Every year your people come here when my tree has flowers upon it and take the honey away from them; and you not only rob me, but while you are doing it, you make loud and foolish noises. If you do not go away, I will call my master and my people.”

The king bee answered, “You have no master in the world. You came from the dirt. Your ancestors all died in the wilderness and nobody even cared, because you are of no use to the world. Our name is Fon (Bee). People like us and they grow fat from our honey, which is better than medicine. My people live in all parts of the world. All mankind likes us and feeds us flowers. Do you think you are better than man?

“One day a bad boy tried to spoil our house, but his mother said, ‘You spoil many things, but you shall not trouble the bees. They work hard every day and make honey for us. If you kill one bee-mother, her children will all leave us and in winter we shall have no honey for our bread.’ And the boy obeyed. He might catch birds and goldfish, destroy flowers, do anything he wished, but he could not trouble us, because we are so useful. But you, slow creeper, are not good for anything.”

Then the snail was angry and went to her house and said to her family, “The bees are our enemies. In fifteen days, five of you must go to their house and destroy it.”

So they went. But when they reached the bee’s house, they found no one there; and they said, “We are glad, for we can eat their honey.” And they ate honey until sunset. Then the bee king and all his people in great numbers came with joyous singing, drumming, and dancing to their home.

When the bee king saw the five snails in his house he said, “Friends, this is not your home nor your food. Why do you come here and eat all our honey? But it is late, and you are welcome to stay overnight with us, if you do not hurt our children.”

The big snail only laughed and answered, “This is very good honey. I have moved my family here. We will stay not only one night or two nights, but forever, and we will eat your honey for our food as long as it lasts.”

The bee king said, “I will allow you to stay only one night here. You can not live in my house. You do no good thing to help. I am afraid even to let you stay one night. My honey may be all taken and the babies killed while we sleep to-night.”

And he said to the wise old bees, “Do not sleep. We can not trust them.”

The next morning the wise bees came and told the king, “Thirty-five babies died last night. The snails crept all about our house and poisoned them. And they left much mouth-dirt in the honey so that we fear it will kill even man to eat it. We must drive them away, O king.”

“One day more and if they do not go, we will do some other thing,” said the bee king.

Then he went to talk to the snails again and said, “Friends, you are looking fat; I know you are satisfied here and like my honey, but why do you kill my people and why do you spoil our honey? I think I know why. I believe you are an enemy, for I remember now that I met a snail mother some time ago, who scolded me and my people. I believe you are her children.

“Be that as it may, I now tell you that if you snails do not leave my house before to-morrow at midday, you die here.”

“Do what you will,” said the snail, “we will stay. We are a free people. We go where we will, we eat what we like, and just now we like honey. We shall eat all the honey you have, if we wish it. At any rate, we will stay now, for we would like to see what you can do that is so great.”

Then the bee king looked grave and called all his soldiers together, and told them to prepare for battle. The first order was, “Make ready your wax until midday!” The second order was, “Sharpen your swords and be ready!”

The great army of thousands with sharpened stings was commanded to make the noise of battle and sting to the death if need be.

The snails were frightened at the battle cries and drew into their shells. Then the king ordered the soldiers to bring wax quickly. And while thousands of bees kept the snails frightened by the great noise of battle, other soldiers filled the snails’ mouths with the wax; and in two hours they were sealed so that they could not move nor breathe.

The bee king then said to the snails, “At first I thought you were friends, and I offered you shelter for the night and all the honey you could eat. But you thought the Creator made the earth for you alone and nothing for any one else. With such natures as yours, if you were as large and powerful as the birds or the beasts, there would be no room for any other creature in all the world. Truly you spoke, when you said you would stay, for now you die.”

Then the king moved all his people away to a new house and left the snails to die.

One day when the master came to get honey and saw the empty house and the five dead snails, he said, “This bee house, with all the honey, is poisoned. It must be cleansed.”

And the dead snails and the spoiled honey were sunk into the earth together, but the bees lived on and were happy and useful.

Ee-Sze (Meaning): The proud and selfish want everything, but deserve nothing.

THE PROUD CHICKEN

傲雞

A widow named Hong-Mo lived in a little house near the market place. Every year she raised many hundreds of chickens, which she sold to support herself and her two children.

Each day the chickens went to the fields near by and hunted bugs, rice, and green things to eat.

The largest one was called the king of the chickens because, of all the hundreds in the flock, he was the strongest. And for this reason he was the leader of them all.

He led the flock to new places for food. He could crow the loudest, and as he was the strongest, none dared oppose him in any way.

One day he said to the flock, “Let us go to the other side of the mountain near the wilderness to-day, and hunt rice, wheat, corn, and wild silkworms. There is not enough food here.”

But the other chickens said, “We are afraid to go so far. There are foxes and eagles in the wilderness, and they will catch us.”

The king of the chickens said, “It is better that all the old hens and cowards stay at home.”

The king’s secretary said, “I do not know fear. I will go with you.” Then they started away together.

When they had gone a little distance, the secretary found a beetle, and just as he was going to swallow it, the king flew at him in great anger, saying, “Beetles are for kings, not for common chickens. Why did you not give it to me?” So they fought together, and while they were fighting, the beetle ran away and hid under the grass where he could not be found.

And the secretary said, “I will not fight for you, neither will I go to the wilderness with you.” And he went home again.

At sunset the king came home. The other chickens had saved the best roosting place for him; but he was angry because none of them had been willing to go to the wilderness with him, and he fought first with one and then with another.

He was a mighty warrior, and therefore none of them could stand up against him. And he pulled the feathers out of many of the flock.

At last the chickens said, “We will not serve this king any longer. We will leave this place. If Hong-Mo will not give us another home, we will stay in the vegetable garden. We will do that two or three nights, and see if she will not give us another place to live.”

So the next day, when Hong-Mo waited at sunset for the chickens to come home, the king was the only one who came.

And she asked the king, “Where are all my chickens?”

But he was proud and angry, and said, “They are of no use in the world. I would not care if they always stayed away.”

Hong-Mo answered, “You are not the only chicken in the world. I want the others to come back. If you drive them all away, you will surely see trouble.”

But the king laughed and jumped up on the fence and crowed—“Nga-Un-Gan-Yu-Na” (coo-ka-doodle-doo-oo) in a loud voice. “I don’t care for you! I don’t care for you!”

Hong-Mo went out and called the chickens, and she hunted long through the twilight until the dark night came, but she could not find them. The next morning early she went to the vegetable garden, and there she found her chickens. They were glad to see her, and bowed their heads and flew to her.

Hong-Mo said, “What are you doing? Why do you children stay out here, when I have given you a good house to live in?”

The secretary told her all about the trouble with the king.

Hong-Mo said, “Now you must be friendly to each other. Come with me, and I will bring you and your king together. We must have peace here.”

When the chickens came to where the king was, he walked about, and scraped his wings on the ground, and sharpened his spurs. His people had come to make peace, and they bowed their heads and looked happy when they saw their king. But he still walked about alone and would not bow.

He said, “I am a king—always a king. Do you know that? You bow your heads and think that pleases me. But what do I care? I should not care if there was never another chicken in the world but myself. I am king.”

And he hopped up on a tree and sang some war songs. But suddenly an eagle who heard him, flew down and caught him in his talons and carried him away. And the chickens never saw their proud, quarrelsome king again.

Ee-Sze (Meaning): No position in life is so high that it gives the right to be proud and quarrelsome.

THE LEMON TREE AND THE PUMELO

檸檬與酸梅

Once a Lemon Tree and a Pumelo Tree lived and grew together in an old orchard.

When the springtime came, they opened wide their beautiful blossoms and were very happy.

And all the children came to visit them, and their hearts were glad with the joy of springtime.

When the warm winds blew, they bowed their heads and waved their blossom-covered arms until they looked like gay little flower girls dancing in the sunshine.

Then the birds came together, and sang sweet songs to the fragrant, happy trees, and their joy lasted from spring until summer.

But once in the summer time the Lemon Tree talked all night long, telling the Pumelo Tree of a great sorrow that had come to her. And she said, “I wish I were a Pumelo Tree, for I have learned that the children of men do not like my children so well as they like yours.

“The first born of my family are thrown away or destroyed. The second generation are taken from me and put in the sunshine for twenty days before they are liked. They are never seen in the market places as your children are, for it is said we are too bitter and sour.

“My children are not well thought of. Ah me! I wish I were not a Lemon Tree.

“Why did the Creator make your children so sweet that they have a good name in all the world, while mine are sour and bitter?

“My flowers are the same as your flowers. My trees are liked the same as yours, but my fruit is almost despised.

“When the Moon feast day of the eighth month and fifteenth day comes, then your children have a happy time for they are honored in every family. When the New Year feast day comes, your children are placed on the first table and every one says, ‘Oh, how beautiful!’

“Women and girls like to kiss your children’s sweet faces. Oh, Mrs. Pumelo, I should like to be as great a blessing to the world as you are.”

And the Pumelo said, “My dear friend, do not say these sad words to me. I feel sure that some day you will be loved as much as I am.

“Did you know that the master spoke of your beauty to-day?”

“What did he say?” asked the Lemon Tree.

“He said, ‘How beautiful the Lemon Tree is! I think I shall try to graft the branches of the Lemon Tree on to the Pumelo Tree.’

“Wait until another springtime comes and you will see how much your children will be honored. How happy we shall be together when you come to grow with me and I with you.”

So the next year the master and his son brought a sharp knife and cut the Lemon Tree’s branches, and fastened them to the Pumelo Tree.

The first fruit came and the children danced for joy.

“How queer to see lemons growing on the Pumelo Tree!” they said.

And the lemons were no longer bitter and sour, but were so pleasant to taste and so fair to look upon that many were saved for the coming feast day.

The Lemon Tree saw that her children were honored, and she was very happy.

Her heart was grateful to the Pumelo Tree who had raised her children to honored places.

And from that time the Lemon Tree and the Pumelo both had the same body and the same mind, the same happiness and the same friends, through many generations forever.

Ee-Sze (Meaning): When you help another you make two people happy.

WOO SING AND THE MIRROR

借鏡訓子

One day Woo Sing’s father brought home a mirror from the great city.

Woo Sing had never seen a mirror before. It was hung in the room while he was out at play, so when he came in he did not understand what it was, but thought he saw another boy.

This made him very happy, for he thought the boy had come to play with him.

He spoke to the stranger in a very friendly way, but received no reply.

He laughed and waved his hand at the boy in the glass, who did the same thing, in exactly the same way.

Then Woo Sing thought, “I will go closer. It may be that he does not hear me”. But when he began to walk, the other boy imitated him.

Woo Sing stopped to think about these strange actions, and he said to himself, “This boy mocks me, he does everything that I do;” and the more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and soon he noticed that the boy became angry too.

So Woo Sing grew very much enraged and struck the boy in the glass, but he only hurt his hand and he went crying to his father.

The father said, “The boy you saw was your own image. This should teach you an important lesson, my son. You ought never to show your anger before other people. You struck the boy in the glass and hurt only yourself.

“Now remember, that in real life when you strike without cause you will hurt yourself most of all.”

TWO MOTHERS AND A CHILD [3]

二母一孩

Woo-Liu-Mai’s (sweet smelling flower) husband died when her boy baby was just two days old. She was young—only fifteen—and had loved her husband much; and now she felt very lonely and sad. In her heart she wondered why the gods had taken him away from her and the little baby, who needed him so much; but she was a good woman and patient, and never complained to the heavens or to her friends.

One day she felt that she must talk to somebody about it all. So she went to her mother-in-law and said, “Mother, to-morrow is the New Year Day and we must make merry and buy firecrackers and incense for the temple. We have thirty gods in our house and we worship often, but they do not help us any. They would not keep my husband alive and let us be happy together.”

Woo-Liu-Mai’s mother-in-law answered, “My child, we can see many people worse off than we are. Look at the poor—and there are many of them. They have no houses to live in. They go around to many market places, begging rice and sweet potatoes. They walk all the time and lose their health trying to get enough food to keep alive. Sometimes they walk from early morning to the dark night and get only one little meal.

“And, daughter, do you not know how many people are frozen and die by the wayside in the cold winter? The New Year brings them two or three days of happiness, then all the rest of the year they are hungry and sad.

“You married my son very young and you are not yet old. You have a good house to live in, plenty of clothes to wear, and a little son. I think you have great blessings from the gods. To-morrow is the New Year Day, and we will buy some pretty red paper to cut in a thousand pieces and hang on our walls, doors, beds, and vases.

“We will make a happy New Year and worship the gods. We will open our door wide and our friends who are happy will come to us and make the New Year call. We will cook the two sweet potatoes, one for you and one-half for me, and the other half for the child. Now see what a happy New Year we shall have.”

But on the morning of the New Year early, Woo-Liu-Mai awoke and found her child dead in the bed by her side, and she ran sobbing her great despair to her mother-in-law.

“We will not hang up the red paper on the door or any place, mother, for our happiness is all dead now. We will have a funeral in three days.”

Woo-Liu-Mai’s mother then took a piece of blue cloth and nailed it to the door, so that people would know that some one was dead there and would not come near the house for fear of bad luck. And she laid the child on a cloth and covered him with another cloth until the third day, when he would be buried.

When people passed by and saw the blue cloth on the door, they thought the mother-in-law, who was old, must be dead.

The second day Woo-Liu-Mai went to her own mother’s home, which was some distance from there, and said, “Mother, my child is dead. Just as the New Year Day came, in the morning early, before the sunrise—so he died.”

Woo-Liu-Mai’s sisters, cousins, and neighbors came to comfort her, because they were sorry. She was now both a widow and childless. In China it is bad to be a widow, but to be both widowed and childless makes of a woman almost an outcast.

One favorite cousin, Woo-Lau-Chan, a very good woman who loved Woo-Liu-Mai like a sister, had a baby just the age of the one who had died, and when she heard the news, she thought much in her heart of her cousin’s great sorrow. “How can my cousin find comfort in life any more?” she said in her mind. “She lost her husband when so young and now she has lost her only child. The first happiness lost—the second happiness lost. A widowed woman has nothing more to expect in life. Oh, I want to do something for her. Clothes, money, bracelets, jewelry, can not comfort her without her child.”

Woo-Lau-Chan then dressed herself and took up her sleeping child and ran to the house where the dead baby lay. She was brave and went into the dark empty room, and no one saw her. She never thought or cared about the bad luck it might bring, nor of herself in any way. She thought only of the great sorrow of the dead child’s mother.