the music in a row, holding each other by the queue.
Chung Goy had never had so much fun in all his little life as he was having now. Just as he was beginning to feel hungry there appeared before his gaze a very long table, just filled with everything a child could possibly want, and all served by cunning little dragons. There were such dainty little China cups without handles, and in them the most delicious chah (tea).
Everybody giggled all the time, in their funny little Chinese way, and no one told them to stop.
While they were sitting at the table the dragons brought them each a big basket of fireworks. Now a Chinese child is even more fond of fireworks than an American child, and so they all kicked up their little sandals with delight, and after each one had been given a lighted Chinese punk, they began to pop them, and oh, what fun it was! There was a delightful noise, with so much popping, and the odor of the punks was most pleasant to their little Chinese noses. It really seemed as if the more they popped, the more they had left in their baskets.
Finally, the big King of the dragons said he must take them home now, or he would not be back in time for the parade, and it would never do to disappoint the people. So each one was allowed to keep his basket, and they squirmed away again, until at last they entered the narrow streets of Chinatown, with its rows of dragon lanterns, and its odor of incense everywhere. Once more Chung Goy climbed the narrow steps, and crept into the arms of ho chun, who had not noticed his absence, and he arrived just in time, for just then there was a great noise of “tom-toms,” and crowds shouting.
The streets were aglare with a strange red light, and looking down he saw the familiar form of the King Dragon, which was spitting fire from its eyes and mouth; but this time little Chung Goy did not feel afraid, for he knew—he knew.
TWO LITTLE CHINESE SISTERS
ONE day during the Chinese New Year, when the sea breezes blew softly through the narrow, blossom-lined streets of Chinatown, and swayed the great red dragon lanterns to and fro, Poon Chew and her little sister, Poon Yet, decided that they would take a walk through the streets, and have a look at all the beautiful things displayed in the windows. Their mo chun had dressed them up in their very best silken robes,—robes she had made for this very week,—and they made a pretty picture as they started out under their gay umbrella. Their blouses were of pink silk, and their trousers of pale lavender. They wore gay head-dresses, and were indeed beautiful to look upon. They would never have started out alone if the little mo chun had not been so busy making the great New Year cake, which was to be served with tea to her guests of the New Year.
“Let’s go see Sai Gee,” said Poon Chew.
“All light,” replied the little sister.
Sai Gee, a little-footed playmate of theirs, lived just a few doors from them, and they had no difficulty in finding her home. Sai Gee was also dressed up in her gayest attire, but her feet were too small to find much enjoyment in running around with the children whose feet were of the ordinary size. But she could
She brought forth from the flute the most wonderful sounds
entertain them, anyway, for Sai Gee could play the flute.
It was really wonderful. She sat upon a stool, over which an embroidered robe had been thrown, and played to them. Her hair was done in a coil back of her right ear, and her little brown face was sweet and wistful as she brought forth from the flute the most wonderful sounds. Sai Gee’s father was very wealthy, and so the little one had everything that money could buy. Poon Chew made up her mind right then that she would ask her father to buy her a flute. Then Sai Gee brought forth some tiny cakes, made of powdered nuts, and some tea, and preserved watermelon; and for each of the little sisters a big slice of New Year’s cake.
“My! but we have good time. I likee make New Yeah call, like mo chun—we go now; good-by,” said Poon Chew.
“Let’s look in window,” the big sister said; and of course the little one, having perfect confidence in Poon Chew, gladly followed, the soft little hand clasped in that of the sister. Oh, the wonderful things they saw! The streets looked like a garden, with the rows of almond blossoms and China lilies, and on every balcony swung in rows the immense dragon lanterns.
They stopped awhile—they thought it only a few minutes—to watch some boys playing a New Year’s game, and then passed on by the stores, where the smell of the good things made them very hungry.
“Oh, how nice the loast pohk (roast pork) smell! I velly hungly,—we go home pletty soon,” said the older sister.
“Yes, we go home pletty soon,” echoed Poon Yet.
The little feet were growing tired, for they had never before been on the streets alone, and they wanted to get all the pleasure they could out of it. How they did wish they had brought some money, as they looked longingly at the great heaps of candied cocoanut and ginger on the street-stands. Their eyes must have said so, for just as they were gazing at the dainties with longing eyes a richly-dressed Chinaman came by, and the first thing they knew he was saying: “You likee candy, ne jai?” (little girl).
It startled them at first, but when they looked up and saw what a kind face the man had, they did not feel afraid, but replied: “Yes—we velly hungly—we no bling money; we catch ’em plenty money at home.”
The man laughed good-naturedly, and having bought them a large package of candy, started on. After they had eaten some of it they noticed the growing darkness. Could it be possible that night was coming on? They had not thought of that; it had seemed so bright when they started, and it did not seem as if they could have been gone long.
Meanwhile, what of the little brown mother at home?
When she finished her cake she called her children. She had made a little cake just for them, and she wanted them to come and eat it.
“Poon Chew! Poon Yet!” she called; but no sound came back through the silence.
“Little one—ne jai, come to mo chun!” No reply.
With wildly beating heart she rushed through the tiny rooms and out to the narrow pavement. She hailed a passing policeman, and in faltering Chinese told him that her little ones were lost, described the pretty clothes they wore, and all the while her heart was wrung with a nameless fear. What would life be without the soft little arms about her neck?—the patter of the little sandalled feet?—the sound of the shrill little voices at play?
This policeman told others, and they were all searching for the two children, who were out making New Year’s calls.
And it grew darker. Poon Chew trembled, as she realized that they were lost. She did not know which way to turn. Some men were lighting the big dragon lanterns on the balcony opposite, so it was really night.
“Oh, little sister, we are lost! I forget; I no ’member the way home. What will we do?” she moaned. She had no idea what direction her home was in, and her eyes were filled with tears; but now through the tears she saw some one approaching. It was—oh, joy! the old nurse Suey, leading the richly dressed little Sai Chong, brother of Sai Gee.
She was greatly surprised when she saw the children so far from home,
It was the old nurse, Suey
and they clung to her neck, weeping and laughing by turns. “Take us home—take us home;”