Chinese fables and folk stories

Si-Ma-Quong lived in the Province of Sze-Chuen. When he was young (about six years old) he played [56]with a dog and a cat, but they hunted all night long for food in the wilderness, and his mother feared he might get the devil-sickness from them. So one day his father paid much silver for Wa-Na-Juch, a bird with a beautiful song, for his son to play with.

Wa-Na-Juch hopped on Si-Ma-Quong’s lap and shoulder and ate from his hand. He was a very handsome bird, and he sang all day long.

One day he flew out to the lake to bathe, and Si-Ma-Quong was very happy watching him. Then he ran and told his mother, “Mü-Tsing,2 I saw the bird bathe in the lake. I think the water is too cold for him. Give him a good hot bath, as you give me.”

His mother said, “In winter you have a warm bath, but not too hot.”

When she bathed Si-Ma-Quong, she showed him why the water must not be too hot for the bird, and he seemed to understand. But the next day when his mother went out, Si-Ma-Quong said to his bird, “Wa-Na-Juch, do you want a bath?” And the bird said, “Chi-Chi,” which the boy thought meant “Yes, Yes.”

He put some clean hot water in a dish, and called the bird, but it would not even go near the water.

This made Si-Ma-Quong angry. “You tell me a lie, and that is very bad,” he said to the bird. “You said, [57]‘Yes, Yes,’ when I asked if you wanted a bath. Now, I will bathe you as Mü-Tsing bathes me.”

He then put the bird in the hot water, but it chirped loudly and tried to get away. “Do not cry and be a bad bird,” said Si-Ma-Quong. “I cry sometimes too, when Mü-Tsing bathes me,” but in two or three minutes, the bird lay still and he put it on the table to dry.

When his mother came, he said, “Mü-Tsing, my bird is cold. He is on the table. I think he wants some clothes. Give him my fur jacket and make him warm, so he will stand up and sing.”

His mother did not know about the bath, so she said, “Oh no, the bird needs no jacket. He wears a feather jacket.”

She then went into the room and saw the bird lying on the table, and she said, “He is dead. Who did this, Si-Ma-Quong? He is wet. Did he go to the pond? I think you killed him. If you did, your father will surely beat you, and he will never bring you another bird.”

And Si-Ma-Quong cried and said, “Yes, I did it. I put him in hot water. I bathed him just as you bathe me. At first he would not go in, but I made him. Then he cried, ‘Chi-Chi-Chee.’ Will you tell my father? I think he will forgive me, if I tell him the truth. He did the last time I did wrong.” [58]

When time came for the evening meal, his mother called him, but he would not eat. He said, “I am sorry about Wa-Na-Juch, and I can not eat food. Wait until my father comes, so that I may tell him all I have done.”

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Once Si-Ma-Quong and two other boys were trying to peel fruit that grew in a neighbor’s garden, but the peach skins were tight and the boys were not skilled. Their task seemed not likely to be finished, when a man passing by said, “I will tell you how to peel the peaches. Get boiling water, drop the peaches in and take them out in a very little time, and then you can pull off their skins easily.”

The man whose peaches they were peeling came soon, and saw that the task was finished. He looked at the fruit and said, “I never saw fruit peeled with so little waste. How did you do it?”

They showed him the hot water and he said, “You are very wise to know first this way of peeling fruit. I will give a piece of silver to each of the boys who made the discovery.”

He asked the other two, “Did you?” and “Did you?” and they both said, “Yes.” He then gave them the silver, but Si-Ma-Quong said, “No, I do not want the silver. We did not ourselves know how to remove the peach skins. A strange man showed us.” [59]

Now these two things happened when Si-Ma-Quong was very young; and he lived seventy-two years and served his emperor and his nation wisely. He did many great things, because he was true in the little things. So history says that this man, who never spoke falsely as a child, youth, or man, was one of the greatest men in the Chinese nation.

[60]

Liang-Sheng-Yü was one of the great generals of China. He had served his kingdom wisely for many years, when there was a war of four nations. Liang-Sheng-Yü conquered the other nations, and put them under the authority of his king. [61]

He was also called Seung-Foo, or the great Helper of the King. He was given this honorable title because he had served two generations of kings—father and son.

One day Liang-Sheng-Yü reproved the general, Liang-Po, in the presence of the king. Liang-Po was angry because of this and said to himself, “Although Liang-Sheng-Yü is a great general, he should not say these things to me in the king’s presence. He has found fault before the king. I will now find fault with him and accuse him before the king. The king forgave me, only because he knew I had done many good things for the kingdom.”

He went to his home, but he could not sleep, for his heart burned with anger. In the morning his face was yet cast down with sorrow, for he could not forget his great disgrace before the king. His wife questioned him, “What troubled you last night?” But he only answered, “Do not ask.”

A servant brought his morning meal, but it was to him as if it had no taste. And the wine-servant gave him wine, but it tasted as water. Another servant brought him water to bathe, and he said, “It is too cold.” But the water was such as it always had been.

Three days passed by and the heart of Liang-Po changed not. Then he went to the house of a friend. [62]On the way, while still at some distance, he saw Liang-Sheng-Yü coming and he tried to meet him and talk with him. But Liang-Sheng-Yü walked by on the other side and would not see.

Liang-Po said to himself, “This is a strange and terrible thing. I was never his enemy; why is he so long angry? Why will he not face me? With him I served the king many years. I can not see why he should turn away from me. He is wrong, wrong.”

He went home and wrote a letter to Liang-Sheng-Yü saying, “I saw you on the Wun-Chung Street to-day and I desired to meet you and tell you many things. I believe you wished not to see me, for you walked on the other side, with your face turned from me. So my heart has another sorrow. I would see you to-morrow, soon after the morning meal, and I invite you to come to my house and eat the noon meal with me.”

But when the servant had brought Liang-Sheng-Yü the letter and he had read it, he threw it into the fire and said not a word. The servant saw and went home and told Liang-Po.

Fifty days after this, word came that the Chaa-Kwa Kingdom was about to make war against the Juo Kingdom.

The king, therefore, sent word to the general, Liang-Po, [63]and to the great helper, Liang-Sheng-Yü, saying, “I want you to come at once to me, your king.”

When he received the word, Liang-Po said, “I think there will be a great war with the Chaa-Kwa Kingdom.” So he waited before going to the king, and gave orders that four thousand soldiers should make ready for battle.

They made ready, and for two days Liang-Po delayed his going. But Liang-Sheng-Yü was already with the king. And in his heart he had fear, for he thought, “Liang-Po will not come. I have made him feel shame before the king. I have done wrong. But if he comes not, our nation is surely lost. We can not go into battle without him.”

The king asked him, “Why has not the general, Liang-Po, come into my presence? We can not have war without the general. Without him we can not even send an answer to the Chaa-Kwa Kingdom.”

Liang-Sheng-Yü answered and said, “Before I sleep this night, I will see the general.” Then he went to his home and told his servants, “I have not time for food. I must see General Liang-Po.” And he bade them cut a bundle of thorn sticks, which he took and carried to Liang-Po’s house.

It was the time of Nyi-Kang (Everything Quiet) when Liang-Sheng-Yü came to General Liang-Po’s [64]house. He knocked on the door three or four times before the servants opened it and asked, “Who is here?” He answered, “I am Liang-Sheng-Yü. Tell your master I must see him to-night, or I die.”

Liang-Po dressed himself and came to the door. There he saw an old man with head so bowed as to conceal his face. He wore old clothes, and he carried a sword on his back and a bundle of thorn sticks in his hands. And he knelt on the floor.

General Liang-Po said, “Who is this?” Then Liang-Sheng-Yü, the great and proud helper of two generations of kings, said, “I wish to see General Liang-Po.”

His face was still close to the floor and his voice trembled as he spoke. “General Liang-Po,” he said, “I was against you before the king and I have learned that the fault was mine. I found you right, and I am guilty, not you. I have done you great wrong. General Liang-Po, my sword is on my back and a bundle of thorn sticks is in my hand. Take the sticks and beat me. Take the sword and cut off my head. We can not make war to-morrow, if we are not at peace to-night.”

Then Liang-Po, the great general, helped Liang-Sheng-Yü upon his feet and said, “No, we have always been friends. We will be friends forever, and together we will serve our king. I wish you to forgive me. I [65]wish the king, too, to forgive me, for I have also made mistakes. We will all forgive and be forgiven—then we will surely be friends.”

The two great men bowed down together and worshiped the Creator, and they both swore that from that time they would have the same mind.

[66]

In ancient times there was an old woodcutter who went to the mountain almost every day to cut wood.

It was said that this old man was a miser who hoarded [67]his silver until it changed to gold, and that he cared more for gold than anything else in all the world.

One day a wilderness tiger sprang at him and though he ran he could not escape, and the tiger carried him off in its mouth.

The woodcutter’s son saw his father’s danger, and ran to save him if possible. He carried a long knife, and as he could run faster than the tiger, who had a man to carry, he soon overtook them.

His father was not much hurt, for the tiger held him by his clothes. When the old woodcutter saw his son about to stab the tiger he called out in great alarm:

“Do not spoil the tiger’s skin! Do not spoil the tiger’s skin! If you can kill him without cutting holes in his skin we can get many pieces of silver for it. Kill him, but do not cut his body.”

While the son was listening to his father’s instructions the tiger suddenly dashed off into the forest, carrying the old man where the son could not reach him, and he was soon killed.

And the wise man who told this story said, “Ah, this old man’s courage was foolishness. His love for money was stronger than his love for life itself.” [68]

Four hundred and fifty years ago in Sze-Cheung Province, Western China, there lived an old farmer named Ah-Po.

The young farmers all said Ah-Po knew everything. [69]If they wanted to know when it would rain, they asked Ah-Po, and when he said, “It will not rain to-morrow,” or “You will need your bamboo-hat1 this time to-morrow,” it was as he said. He knew all about the things of nature and how to make the earth yield best her fruits and seeds, and some said he was a prophet.

One day Ah-Po caught a fine mountain turtle. It was so large that it took both of Ah-Po’s sons to carry it home. They tied its legs together and hung it on a strong stick, and each son put an end of the stick on his shoulder.

Ah-Po said, “We will not kill the turtle. He is too old to eat, and I think we will keep him and watch the rings grow around his legs each year.” So they gave him a corner in the barnyard and fed him rice and water.

Ah-Po had many chickens, and for three months the turtle and chickens lived in peace with each other. But one day all the young chickens came together and laughed at the turtle. Then they said to him, “Why do you live here so long? Why do you not go back to your own place? This small barnyard corner is not so good as your cave in the wilderness. You have only a [70]little sand and grass to live on here. The servant feeds you, but she never gives you any wilderness fruits. You are very large, and you take up too much room. We need all the room there is here. You foolish old thing, do you think our fathers and mothers want you? No. There is not one of our people who likes you. Besides, you are not clean. You make too much dirt. The servant girl gave you this water to drink, and your water bowl is even now upside down. You scatter rice on our floor. Too many flies come here to see you, and we do not like flies.”

The turtle waited until they had all finished scolding. Then he said, “Do you think I came here myself? Who put me here, do you know? Do you suppose I like to be in jail? You need not be jealous. I never ate any rice that belonged to you or your family. I am not living in your house. What are you complaining about? If our master should take your whole family and sell it, he would only get one piece of silver. Who and what are you to talk so much? Wait and see; some day I may have the honored place.”

Some of the chickens went home and told their mother, “We had an argument with the turtle to-day and he had the last word. To-morrow we want you to go with us and show him that a chicken can argue, as well as a turtle.” [71]

The next day all the chickens of the barnyard went to see the turtle. And the old hen said, “My children came here to play yesterday, and you scolded them and drove them away. You said all my family were not worth one piece of silver. You think you are worth many pieces of gold, I suppose. No one likes you. Your own master would not eat you. And the market people would never buy a thing so old and tough as you are. But I suppose you will have to stay here in our yard a thousand years or so, until you die. Then they will carry you to the wilderness and throw you into the Nobody-Knows Lake.”

Then the turtle answered and said, “I am a mountain turtle. I come from a wise family, and it is not easy for even man to catch me. Educated men, doctors, know that I am useful for sickness, but if all the people knew the many ways they could use me, I think there would soon be no more turtles in the world. Many Chinese know that my skin is good for skin disease, and my forefeet are good for the devil-sickness in children, as they drive the devil away; and then my shells are good for sore throat, and my stomach is good for stomach-ache, and my bones are good for toothache. Do you remember that not long ago our master brought three turtle eggs to feed your children? I heard him say, ‘Those little chickens caught cold in [72]that damp place, and so I must give them some turtle eggs.’ I saw your children eat those three eggs, and in two or three days they were well.

“So you see the turtle is a useful creature in the world, even to chickens. Why do you not leave me in peace? As I must stay here against my will, it is not right that your children should trouble me. Sometimes they take all my rice and I go hungry, for our master will not allow me to go outside of this fence to hunt food for myself. I never come to your house and bother you, but your children will not even let me live in peace in the little corner our master gave me. If I had a few of my own people here with me, as you have, I think you would not trouble me. But I have only myself, while you are many.

“Yesterday your children scolded me and disturbed my peace. To-day you come again; and to-morrow and many to-morrows will see generations and still more unhatched generations of chickens coming here to scold me, I fear; for the length of life of a cackling hen is as a day to me—a mountain turtle. I know the heaven is large, I know the earth is large and made for all creatures alike. But you think the heavens and the earth were both made for you and your chickens only. If you could drive me away to-day, you would try to-morrow to drive the dog away, and in time you would [73]think the master himself ought not to have enough of your earth and air to live in. This barnyard is large enough for birds, chickens, ducks, geese, and pigs. It makes our master happy to have us all here.”

The chickens went away ashamed. Talking to each other about it, they said, “The turtle is right. It is foolish to want everything. We barnyard creatures must live at peace with each other until we die. The barnyard is not ours; we use it only a little while.”

Ee-Sze (Meaning): The Creator made the world for all to use, and, while using it, the strong should not try to drive out the weak. [74]

About two thousand four hundred and twenty years [75]ago, Tsen-Tsze2 was a child and lived in San-Szi Province. For twenty-one years he studied many things with the great teacher, Confucius. And the first great moral law of Confucius he obeyed, not only in his acts, but in his heart, even when beaten for a thing he did not understand.3 And it is not on record that any other man has ever done this.

In earliest childhood, he always loved and reverenced his father and mother. In the morning when he arose he went to see his parents before he would have the morning meal.

One day Tsen-Tsze’s mother went away to visit his grandparents. When she left, she said, “Dear son, I will return in one day. You and your father will be happy for a day without me.” And he knelt4 and bowed his head to worship his mother at parting. [76]

The evening came and she did not return, and Tsen-Tsze could not eat food or sleep that night from anxiety for his mother. And when the maid servant called him for the morning meal, he said, “No; I can not eat food until I see my mother’s face.” But his father said, “You must eat and go to school.”

“I can not eat food or study books until my mother comes,” said Tsen-Tsze, and word was sent his teacher who said, “You are not quite wise, Tsen-Tsze. If your mother should die, would you then no longer study? I hope to see you soon at school.”

At midday his mother came. Then he had food, and went to school and studied his lessons.

When he came home from school, he always went to see where his parents were before going to play. At meal time he would not take food until his father and mother began eating. When he met an old person on the street, he uncovered his head and stood aside respectfully to let him pass before he went on.

These and all other customs of courtesy were observed and honored by Tsen-Tsze. At school he studied his lessons faithfully, and never left tasks unfinished. Every day he asked his teacher, “Have I done any wrong to-day?”—so great was his desire to know the right and to do all that he knew. [77]

One day Tsen-Tsze’s father beat him with a long Kia-Tsa (stick).5 When he got up from the floor he came and took his father’s hand and asked, “Father, did I do wrong? Tell me what it was.” But his father’s face was red with anger, and he would not explain.

Tsen-Tsze went out to the schoolroom and took his music box and came again before his father’s face, and sat down on the floor and played and sang to him. He sang,

And he said, “I read in history about many famous men who were great because they were gentle. I hope I shall be like them. History says their fathers gave them the stick when young.” But the anger had not all left his father’s face, and he brought him a cup of tea and said, “Father, are you thirsty?”

Then he took his father’s hand and went to the garden [78]where the birds were singing. He put a flower on his father’s breast and asked, “Father, do you like that? I do.”

All this caused Tsen-Tsze’s father to think, and in his heart he said, “This boy is not like other children of his age.” And so long as he had life, he never beat his son again.

Tsen-Tsze became a great scholar and finished all his studies when he was only twenty-five years old. And he was a wise and good man.

His own generation and all the generations of man that have come after him have studied about him, and have wished to be as he was. [79]

One day a hunter was looking for a fox in the wilderness, when suddenly he saw thousands of birds coming [80]towards the river, and he lay quite still and waited for them all to come.

The Yen Tzi, or Kind Birds, were talking together, and the hunter listened. One asked, “Is all our company here?”

And the Leader Bird said, “No, little One-Month-Old and Two-Month and Mrs. This-Year are not here yet.”

And the Leader Bird said to the Lookout Birds, “You must go after them and help them to the river before five days. Our boats are dried and ready to sail. It is growing cold and we must all go south together.”

So the Lookout Birds flew all around the country to hunt the lost birds. They found one with a broken wing, and a little one with not enough wing feathers to fly far, and one with a wound in his leg made by a hunter, and others that were tired or very hungry. They found every missing bird, and this great family of friends were soon all together again.

But while the Lookout Birds were seeking the lost ones from their own family, they heard another bird cry, “Save me! save me, too!” And they stopped and said, “Who is calling? Some one must be in trouble.” [81]They flew to a lemon tree and saw a Tailor Bird with her leg all covered with blood. The Kind Birds said, “Friend, how came you in such trouble? What is your name and where do you live?”

The Tailor Bird said, “I live in the South Province, eight hundred miles away. I came here to see my friends and relatives. Three of my children are with me, and we were on our way home to the south. We had gone sixty miles, when I asked my children to stop and rest in this lemon tree, and now I do not even know where they are. I fear the hunter got them. I am hurt, too, and I do not think I shall ever see my home again. I shall lose my life here, I fear.”

The Yen Tzi heard all the Tailor Bird said. They talked together and were sorry for her who had no one to care for her, for they knew her children had been killed by the hunter. “If we do not save her life, she will surely die,” they said.

So they asked, “Would you like to go with us? We know you eat different food. We live on rice and fruit and a few bugs. We do not know that you can live as we do. And we must ride on our boats, many, many hours.”

The Tailor Bird answered, “Yes, I will go gladly, and will eat what you have and cause you no trouble.”

The Kind Birds helped the Tailor Bird to their [82]company and put her in one of their boats, and two or three birds fed her and cared for her until she was well.

The hunter who told this story said, “I have learned many things by watching and studying the habits of the Kind Birds. I will never kill birds again.”

Ee-Sze (Meaning): In time of trouble, man should help not only his own, but others. [83]

Confucius once heard two of his pupils quarreling. One was of a gentle nature and was called by all the students a peaceful man. The other had a good brain and a kind heart, but was given to great anger. If he wished to do a thing, he did it, and no man could prevent; if any one tried to hinder him, he would show sudden and terrible rage. [84]

One day, after one of these fits of temper, the blood came from his mouth, and, in great fear, he went to Confucius. “What shall I do with my body?” he asked. “I fear I shall not live long. It may be better that I no longer study and work. I am your pupil and you love me as a father. Tell me what to do for my body.”

Confucius answered, “Tsze-Lu, you have a wrong idea about your body. It is not the study, not the work in school, but your great anger that causes the trouble.

“I will help you to see this. You remember when you and Nou-Wui quarreled. He was at peace and happy again in a little time, but you were very long in overcoming your anger. You can not expect to live long if you do that way. Every time one of the pupils says a thing you do not like, you are greatly enraged. There are a thousand in this school. If each offends you only once, you will have a fit of temper a thousand times this year. And you will surely die, if you do not use more self-control. I want to ask you some questions:—

“How many teeth have you?”

“I have thirty-two, teacher.”

“How many tongues?”

“Just one.”

“How many teeth have you lost?” [85]

“I lost one when I was nine years old, and four when I was about twenty-six years old.”

“And your tongue—is it still perfect?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You know Mun-Gun, who is quite old?”

“Yes, I know him well.”

“How many teeth do you think he had at your age?”

“I do not know.”

“How many has he now?”

“Two, I think. But his tongue is perfect, though he is very old.”

“You see the teeth are lost because they are strong, and determined to have everything they desire. They are hard and hurt the tongue many times, but the tongue never hurts the teeth. Yet, it endures until the end, while the teeth are the first of man to decay. The tongue is peaceful and gentle with the teeth. It never grows angry and fights them, even when they are in the wrong. It always helps them do their work, in preparing man’s food for him, although the teeth never help the tongue, and they always resist everything.

“And so it is with man. The strongest to resist, is the first to decay; and you, Tsze-Lu, will be even so if you learn not the great lesson of self-control.” [86]