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.If Ishould have to remain, use part of this to pay Old Dai his rent.Hold tightlyto what is left.There will be the small matter of the water-coolie, too; givehim his money promptly--he needs it to feed the many mouths in his house!As for you who are always hungry--I wonder sometimes what Tang's food islike that it never satisfies your stomach --buy fruit when you feel you areabout to starve.That is best in this hot weather.But waste none of it onsesame-seed candy or on sweetened cakes! Cash pieces are not picked up inthe streets."The two dollars lay heavy in the moneybag at his belt; he was acutelyconscious of the unaccustomed weight.Two dollars! Why Fu Be Be had leftso much in his care he did not know.It was enough to feed a man for twowhole months.Dai's rent and the water-coolie and his own smallexpenditures would not use more than half of it, even if she stayed severalweeks.To have a fifty-cash piece in his belt was unusual for him; now tocarry two dollars was wealth beyond imagination.And what seemed evenmore of a dream was that he was, for the first time in his life, left alone withfull responsibility for his home and his own actions.He yawned wearily.It was much too stuffy to go to Wang Scholar's room.And while his nose was quite used to the odor from the pigpen which laybehind his own quarters, on a night like this, one did not seek it out forpleasure.This door sill was little better.He would, he decided, with no oneto worry about him, hunt a more refreshing spot.In a moment he had fastened the door to his room securely, tightened his belt, and, hoping to findcoolness, slipped through the dark, winding streets to the Lin River Gate.He soon came out to a low place on the city wall, and clambered to a seaton the broken stone coping.A cool, misty air rose from the river, and hiswhole body drank it in.Off in the country slept the tiny village, Dsen GiaNgai--;n the spring a jewel of emerald rice fields set in gold mustard.Herecalled his errands on the road that led to it.Only a short time ago he hadtrod it, and now the Land Gate through which he had passed was no longerthere.The motor buses that in the beginning had seemed so strange werethese days a familiar sight.Passengers crowded them as they plied to and froon their journeys.As for beggars, the new government was taking care thatthe wretched hordes did not annoy travelers.Few remained in the old haunts;Young Fu wondered for a moment where they might have gone.He hadnoticed none of them in the city.This was queer indeed! It was as if they hadvanished into the air.He looked about him.Stars flashed flaming points inthe black sky and, below, the river rushed on its way to join the greaterYangtze.A strange aching disturbed his mind.His memory under the night's spellwas a kaleidoscope of romance from many sources.Sages colored the talk ofWang Scholar in his mother's chatter dwelt fox-women and devils whochanged their forms at will; the professional storytellers brought lovers andgreat heroes to life anew.This city of which he was a part was rich inhistory, and he was young.Except for two or three occasions, his life hadbeen dull as any girl's.Glamour had deserted the world, he thought withdissatisfaction.Any excitement would be welcome, but there was none.Only tomorrow with its brasses forever waiting to be welded lay ahead.Witha sigh he slipped from his place on the wall and started for home.Lost in thought, he paid little attention to his steps.He had walked perhapsfor a quarter of an hour when he became aware that he was in an unfamiliarlocality.He stopped and looked about him in the darkness.The street wasstrange.Slowly he retraced his way in an effort to find the thoroughfarefrom which it had been entered.He was rewarded by a break in the blackstreet front.Now sure of himself, he turned the right angle.As he did so, agruff voice hailed, "Who is it?"Young Fu turned in surprise to find four men grouped on an earthen floorto his left, their hands engaged with a pile of dominoes.The flickering oil cup that gave them light revealed the interior of a straw-sandal shop.In thedoorway hung several clumps of tiny sandals for pigs to wear on miry,slippery surfaces.Four pairs of eyes stared at the youth, as he told them hehad lost his way, but now knew where he was."Where do you dwell?""In Chair-Makers' Way."A swift glance passed between the men."That is a long walk from thisplace," remarked one of them kindly."Sit a little," suggested another, "and watch the game.Young Fu felt flattered.This was an experience, indeed! There had beensmall opportunity in his life for studying at leisure this game whichfascinated him deeply.An occasional peek over the shoulders of players hadof necessity satisfied his interest.Fu Be Be was bitter in her denunciation ofgambling, and as for Tang -- any workman of his who appeared morningafter morning red of eye and weary of body soon found himself looking foranother establishment in which to ply his craft.In such a moment thecoppersmith was fond of quoting, "He who rides on a tiger cannot dismountwhen he pleases." That these harmless-looking little slabs of bamboo andbone had capacity for much evil, Young Fu knew, but that, he told himself,was due to lack of wisdom on the part of players.And to sit here tonight andwatch these strangers would, of course, injure no one.The men were apparently uninterested in their guest.Engrossed in theplays, they said little.The patter of dice and the click-clack of the smallrectangles echoed in the dark silence of the deserted street.Young Fu leanedever closer.His eyes followed each step avidly.His breath came faster.Oneof the men was playing stupidly.His mistakes were clear.The youth longedto point them out.Hours slipped by.He had no idea of the time, but he would not now leaveuntil the game was finished.Suddenly the stupid one flung down his dice,cursed his bad fortune, and rose to his feet.His companions affectedconsternation.The game could not be left this way with accountsunreckoned.Dismayed, they glanced about them, then one smiledexpectantly in Young Fu's direction.The youth's heart thudded.The words he had been holding his breath to hear came: "Young man, will you honor usby taking this man's dominoes?" He grasped the dice eagerly and awaited histurn.In what seemed a few swift moments, the game was ended.Young Fufound himself smothered in compliments about his playing.His headwhirled.Someone reckoned scores [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.If Ishould have to remain, use part of this to pay Old Dai his rent.Hold tightlyto what is left.There will be the small matter of the water-coolie, too; givehim his money promptly--he needs it to feed the many mouths in his house!As for you who are always hungry--I wonder sometimes what Tang's food islike that it never satisfies your stomach --buy fruit when you feel you areabout to starve.That is best in this hot weather.But waste none of it onsesame-seed candy or on sweetened cakes! Cash pieces are not picked up inthe streets."The two dollars lay heavy in the moneybag at his belt; he was acutelyconscious of the unaccustomed weight.Two dollars! Why Fu Be Be had leftso much in his care he did not know.It was enough to feed a man for twowhole months.Dai's rent and the water-coolie and his own smallexpenditures would not use more than half of it, even if she stayed severalweeks.To have a fifty-cash piece in his belt was unusual for him; now tocarry two dollars was wealth beyond imagination.And what seemed evenmore of a dream was that he was, for the first time in his life, left alone withfull responsibility for his home and his own actions.He yawned wearily.It was much too stuffy to go to Wang Scholar's room.And while his nose was quite used to the odor from the pigpen which laybehind his own quarters, on a night like this, one did not seek it out forpleasure.This door sill was little better.He would, he decided, with no oneto worry about him, hunt a more refreshing spot.In a moment he had fastened the door to his room securely, tightened his belt, and, hoping to findcoolness, slipped through the dark, winding streets to the Lin River Gate.He soon came out to a low place on the city wall, and clambered to a seaton the broken stone coping.A cool, misty air rose from the river, and hiswhole body drank it in.Off in the country slept the tiny village, Dsen GiaNgai--;n the spring a jewel of emerald rice fields set in gold mustard.Herecalled his errands on the road that led to it.Only a short time ago he hadtrod it, and now the Land Gate through which he had passed was no longerthere.The motor buses that in the beginning had seemed so strange werethese days a familiar sight.Passengers crowded them as they plied to and froon their journeys.As for beggars, the new government was taking care thatthe wretched hordes did not annoy travelers.Few remained in the old haunts;Young Fu wondered for a moment where they might have gone.He hadnoticed none of them in the city.This was queer indeed! It was as if they hadvanished into the air.He looked about him.Stars flashed flaming points inthe black sky and, below, the river rushed on its way to join the greaterYangtze.A strange aching disturbed his mind.His memory under the night's spellwas a kaleidoscope of romance from many sources.Sages colored the talk ofWang Scholar in his mother's chatter dwelt fox-women and devils whochanged their forms at will; the professional storytellers brought lovers andgreat heroes to life anew.This city of which he was a part was rich inhistory, and he was young.Except for two or three occasions, his life hadbeen dull as any girl's.Glamour had deserted the world, he thought withdissatisfaction.Any excitement would be welcome, but there was none.Only tomorrow with its brasses forever waiting to be welded lay ahead.Witha sigh he slipped from his place on the wall and started for home.Lost in thought, he paid little attention to his steps.He had walked perhapsfor a quarter of an hour when he became aware that he was in an unfamiliarlocality.He stopped and looked about him in the darkness.The street wasstrange.Slowly he retraced his way in an effort to find the thoroughfarefrom which it had been entered.He was rewarded by a break in the blackstreet front.Now sure of himself, he turned the right angle.As he did so, agruff voice hailed, "Who is it?"Young Fu turned in surprise to find four men grouped on an earthen floorto his left, their hands engaged with a pile of dominoes.The flickering oil cup that gave them light revealed the interior of a straw-sandal shop.In thedoorway hung several clumps of tiny sandals for pigs to wear on miry,slippery surfaces.Four pairs of eyes stared at the youth, as he told them hehad lost his way, but now knew where he was."Where do you dwell?""In Chair-Makers' Way."A swift glance passed between the men."That is a long walk from thisplace," remarked one of them kindly."Sit a little," suggested another, "and watch the game.Young Fu felt flattered.This was an experience, indeed! There had beensmall opportunity in his life for studying at leisure this game whichfascinated him deeply.An occasional peek over the shoulders of players hadof necessity satisfied his interest.Fu Be Be was bitter in her denunciation ofgambling, and as for Tang -- any workman of his who appeared morningafter morning red of eye and weary of body soon found himself looking foranother establishment in which to ply his craft.In such a moment thecoppersmith was fond of quoting, "He who rides on a tiger cannot dismountwhen he pleases." That these harmless-looking little slabs of bamboo andbone had capacity for much evil, Young Fu knew, but that, he told himself,was due to lack of wisdom on the part of players.And to sit here tonight andwatch these strangers would, of course, injure no one.The men were apparently uninterested in their guest.Engrossed in theplays, they said little.The patter of dice and the click-clack of the smallrectangles echoed in the dark silence of the deserted street.Young Fu leanedever closer.His eyes followed each step avidly.His breath came faster.Oneof the men was playing stupidly.His mistakes were clear.The youth longedto point them out.Hours slipped by.He had no idea of the time, but he would not now leaveuntil the game was finished.Suddenly the stupid one flung down his dice,cursed his bad fortune, and rose to his feet.His companions affectedconsternation.The game could not be left this way with accountsunreckoned.Dismayed, they glanced about them, then one smiledexpectantly in Young Fu's direction.The youth's heart thudded.The words he had been holding his breath to hear came: "Young man, will you honor usby taking this man's dominoes?" He grasped the dice eagerly and awaited histurn.In what seemed a few swift moments, the game was ended.Young Fufound himself smothered in compliments about his playing.His headwhirled.Someone reckoned scores [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]