A Chinese Wonder Book | Page 9

led into the great earthen bed.
The bell-maker covered his eyes with his fan, afraid to look at the
swiftly-flowing stream. Were all his hopes to be suddenly dashed by
the failure of the metals to mix and harden properly? A heavy sigh
escaped him as at last he looked up at the thing he had created.

Something had indeed gone wrong; he knew in the flash of an eye that
misfortune had overtaken him.
Yes! sure enough, when at last the earthen casting had been broken,
even the smallest child could see that the giant bell, instead of being a
thing of beauty was a sorry mass of metals that would not blend.
"Alas!" said Yung-lo, "here is indeed a mighty failure, but even in this
disappointment I see an object lesson well worthy of consideration, for
behold! in yonder elements are all the materials of which this country is
made up. There are gold and silver and the baser metals. United in the
proper manner they would make a bell so wonderfully beautiful and so
pure of tone that the very spirits of the Western heavens would pause to
look and listen. But divided they form a thing that is hideous to eye and
ear. Oh, my China! how many wars are there from time to time among
the different sections, weakening the country and making it poor! If
only all these peoples, great and small, the gold and silver and the baser
elements, would unite, then would this land be really worthy of the
name of the Middle Kingdom!"
The courtiers all applauded this speech of the great Yung-lo, but
Kwan-yu remained on the ground where he had thrown himself at the
feet of his sovereign. Still bowing his head and moaning, he cried out:
"Ah! your Majesty! I urged you not to appoint me, and now indeed you
see my unfitness. Take my life, I beg you, as a punishment for my
failure."
"Rise, Kwan-yu," said the great Prince. "I would be a mean master
indeed if I did not grant you another trial. Rise up and see that your
next casting profits by the lesson of this failure."
So Kwan-yu arose, for when the King speaks, all men must listen. The
next day he began his task once more, but still his heart was heavy, for
he knew not the reason of his failure and was therefore unable to
correct his error. For many months he laboured night and day. Hardly a
word would he speak to his wife, and when his daughter tried to tempt
him with a dish of sunflower seed that she had parched herself, he

would reward her with a sad smile, but would by no means laugh with
her and joke as had formerly been his custom. On the first and fifteenth
day of every moon he went himself to the temple and implored the
gods to grant him their friendly assistance, while Ko-ai added her
prayers to his, burning incense and weeping before the grinning idols.
Again the great Yung-lo was seated on the platform in Kwan-yu's
foundry, and again his courtiers hovered round him, but this time, as it
was winter, they did not flirt the silken fans. The Great One was certain
that this casting would be successful. He had been lenient with
Kwan-yu on the first occasion, and now at last he and the great city
were to profit by that mercy.
Again he gave the signal; once more every neck was craned to see the
flowing of the metal. But, alas! when the casing was removed it was
seen that the new bell was no better than the first. It was, in fact, a
dreadful failure, cracked and ugly, for the gold and silver and the baser
elements had again refused to blend into a united whole.
With a bitter cry which touched the hearts of all those present, the
unhappy Kwan-yu fell upon the floor. This time he did not bow before
his master, for at the sight of the miserable conglomeration of useless
metals his courage failed him, and he fainted. When at last he came to,
the first sight that met his eyes was the scowling face of Yung-lo. Then
he heard, as in a dream, the stern voice of the Son of Heaven:
"Unhappy Kwan-yu, can it be that you, upon whom I have ever heaped
my favours, have twice betrayed the trust? The first time, I was sorry
for you and willing to forget, but now that sorrow has turned into
anger--yea, the anger of heaven itself is upon you. Now, I bid you mark
well my words. A third chance you shall have to cast the bell, but if on
that third attempt you fail--then by order of the Vermilion Pencil