My Lady of the Chinese Courtyard | Page 5

too, that over-learning is not good for
women. It is not meet to give them books in which to store their
embroidery silks. But I-- I am secretly delighted, and Mah-li, thy sister,
is transported with joy. I think within our hearts, although we would
not even whisper it to the night wind, we are glad that there will be
three instead of two to bear the burden of the discourses of thine
Honourable Mother. Not that she talks too much, thou understandest,
nor that her speech is not stored full of wisdom, but-- she talks-- and
we must listen.
We have other news. A new slave-girl has come into our household. As
thou knowest, there has been a great famine to the north of us, and the
boats, who follow all disaster, have been anchored in our canal. I do not
know why August One desired to add one more to take of rice beneath

our rooftree; but she is here. She was brought before me, a little peasant
girl, dressed in faded blue trousers and a jacket that had been many
times to the washing pool. Her black hair was coiled in the girlhood
knot at the side of the head, and in it she had stuck a pumpkin blossom.
She was such a pretty little country flower, and looked so helpless, I
drew her to me and questioned her. She told me there were many
within their compound wall: grandmother, father, mother, brothers,
sisters, uncles and cousins. The rice was gone, the heavy clothing and
all of value in the pawn-shop. Death was all around them, and they
watched each day as he drew nearer-- nearer. Then came the buyers of
girls. They had money that would buy rice for the winter and mean life
to all. But the mother would not listen. She was told over and over that
the price of one would save the many. Her nights were spent in
weeping and her days in fearful watching. At last, worn out, despairing,
she went to a far-off temple to ask Kwan-yin, the Mother of Mercies,
for help in her great trouble. While she was gone, Ho-tai was taken to
the women in the boat at the water-gate, and many pieces of silver were
paid the father. When the stomach is empty, pride is not strong, and
there were many small bodies crying for rice that could only be bought
with the sacrifice of one. That night, as they started down the canal,
they saw on the tow-path a peasant women, her dress open far below
her throat, her hair loose and flying, her eyes swollen and dry from
over-weeping, moaning pitifully, stumbling on in the darkness,
searching for the boat that had been anchored at the water-gate; but it
was gone. Poor little Ho-tai! She said, "It was my mother!" and as she
told me, he face was wet with bitter rain. I soothed her and told her we
would make her happy, and I made a little vow in my heart that I would
find that mother and bring peace to her heart again.
The summer wanes and autumn is upon us with all its mists and
shadows of purple and grey. The camphor-trees look from the distance
like great balls of fire, and the eucalyptus-tree, in its dress of brilliant
yellow, is a gaily painted court lady. If one short glimpse of thee my
heart could gladden, then all my soul would be filled with the beauty of
this time, these days of red and gold. But now I seek thee the long night
through, and turn to make my arm thy pillow-- but thou art gone.

I am thy wife who longs for thee.
5
My Dear One, We have a daughter-in-law. Not only have we a
daughter-in-law, but we have servants and household furnishings and
clothing-- and clothing-- and clothing. I am sure that if her gowns could
be laid side by side, they would reach around the world. She is as fair
as the spring blossoms, and of as little use. An army encamped upon us
could not have so upset our household as the advent of this one maiden.
She brought with her rugs to cover the floors, embroideries and
hangings for the walls, scrolls and saying of Confucius and Mencius to
hang over the seats of honour-- to show us that she is an admirer of the
classics-- screens for the doorways, even a huge bed all carved and
gilded and with hangings and tassels of gay silk.
Thine Honourable Mother, after viewing the goods piled in the
courtyards, called her bearers and told us she was taking tea with a
friend in the village of Sung-dong. I think she chose this friend because
she lives the farthest from