was needed?"
V.
SKY-HIGH'S WONDER-TALE.
"My Lady of the Beautiful Morning" believed in the education of story-telling; and she did not limit her stories wholly to tales with "morals," but told those that awakened the imagination. This she did for Lucy's sake and Charlie's, believing that all little people should pass through fairyland once in their lives.
She used, like Queen Scheherazade of the Arabian Nights, to gather up stories that pictured places, habits, and manners of the people, to relate; and this year, when the garden began to flower, she had many such to tell under the trees. Sky-High was always a listener. He was always permitted to be with the family in the evening. He loved wonder-tales. They carried him off as on an "enchanted carpet."
One evening Mrs. Van Buren said, "I have a new idea. Sky-High might tell us some stories. He speaks English well when he chooses. Sky-High, tell us some tale of your own country. You have wonder-tales in China."
"In the stories of my country animals talk," said Sky-High.
"Tell us some of your stories in which animals talk," said Lucy, clapping her hands.
"Animals always talk, everywhere," said Sky-High. "In China we interpret what they say."
The word "interpret" was rather a big one for Lucy. But as Sky-High was given to using unexpected words, the little girl was herself beginning to indulge in a larger vocabulary.
So Sky-High began to relate an old Chinese household story.
THE SELF-RESPECTING DONKEY.
There was once a Donkey who had great respect for himself, as many people do. Such wear good clothes. You may know what a man thinks of himself by the clothes he wears. We Chinese moralize in our stories as we go along. We tell think-tales.
One day the Self-respecting Donkey went out into some green meadows near a wood, and was eating grass when a Tiger appeared on the verge of the meadow. The Self-respecting Donkey was very much surprised, but did not lose his dignity. So he uttered a deep bray.
"Br-a-a-a!"
The Tiger, in his turn, was very much surprised--for the Donkey's voice seemed to penetrate the earth. But as soon as he collected his wits he crouched as if to spring upon the Donkey and make a meal of him.
The Self-respecting Donkey did not run. He moved with a slow, firm, and kingly step toward the Tiger. Then he dropped his head again, in such a way that his ears looked like great proclamations of wisdom and power.
"Br-a-a-a!"
His voice was truly terrible. The Tiger again quailed.
"Oh, Beast of the Voice of the Thunder-winds," said he, "thou canst dispute with me and the Lion the kingship among animals!"
The Donkey brayed again in a more terrible voice than before. "If you will accompany me into the wood," said he, "thou shalt see all animals flee from us."
The Tiger felt complimented by an association with the animal who had gained his voice from the thunder, and shortly they entered the wood.
The animals all fled when they saw them coming--not from the Donkey, but from the Tiger. Even the Raven dared not speak, and the Lion slunk back among the rocks; because a Tiger and a Donkey, together, might more than equal his terrifying roar.
"See," said the Donkey, "all nature flees before us. Now walk behind me, and I will show you the secret of my power."
The Tiger stepped behind; and the Donkey very quickly, in a pretty short time, showed him the secret of his power. He kicked the poor foolish Tiger in the head, breaking his nose, and stunning him. Then leaving him in the path for dead, he made good his escape.
"Any one can be great," said he, "if he knows how to use his power!" He was a philosopher.
When the poor Tiger came to his senses he rubbed his nose with his paw, and began to reflect on the lesson that he should learn from his association with a Donkey.
He reflected long and well--and never said anything about it to anyone.
"In my country," added little Sky-High, "we think that when one allows himself to get kicked by a donkey a long silence befits him--he can best show his wisdom in that way. Do you not think so, O Mandarin Americans?"
The "Mandarin Americans" quite agreed with the conclusion drawn by Sky-High.
It was about this time that little Lucy began to wonder if Sky-High were not a wang indeed. No common young Chinese could possess so many kinds of wisdom. He was able to read to her the labels on tea-chests, and to explain the odd figures on the many fans that decorated her playroom.
"How do you know so much, Sky-High?" she asked one day when he had told her the meaning of the pictures on an old Chinese porcelain in the upper hall.
"Many of the porcelains in our country are made to be read,"
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