given it into the charge of a servant, begged leave to retire. This he well knew Mr. Yang would not allow, and was prepared with an acceptance when his host invited him to a repast in the outer hall. As a matter of course, though not until he had protested vehemently, Chang the Golden occupied the seat of honour on the left of his host. The sweetmeats and viands were all good, and the wine was excellent; so that, although Mr. Yang was not a man after the Golden One's heart, that worthy succeeded in enjoying himself. Love for the Confucian classics was the only bond of union between the two men. The one was by nature cold and austere, and, having spent many years in official life, his natural reserve had grown upon him until he had become as uncommunicative a man as it was possible to meet with. Chang, on the other hand, was of a rollicking nature, and found an even greater delight in a convivial supper than in a chapter of the Confucian Analects. After a few vain attempts to break the ice, Chang determined to devote his attention to his plate and cup, and so gratifying were their contents to his taste that it was with some unwillingness that, when the wine had been passed round thrice, he rose to take his leave. With much for mality Mr. Yang conducted him to the door, and bade him adieu, with many bows, at the side of his sedan-chair.

Mr. Le was delighted with the account brought back by Chang of the reception he had met with from Mr. Yang, and having read that gentleman's answer he spread it on the family altar for the information of those unseen but ever present members of his household who, though dead, yet spake, and who were as real and living personages in the imagination of the worshipper as when they walked the halls of the family dwelling in corporeal form. An inward consciousness assured him that these guardians of his household approved of the proposed alliance, and he therefore at once sent for a Taouist priest to cast the horoscope of the youthful couple from their nativities. Mr. Yang followed also exactly the same course, and, as it happened, sent for another priest of Taou from the same temple. By a private understanding these worthies, having extracted the largest possible amounts from their patrons by means of threatened difficulties, agreed to a favourable report on the destinies of the young people. They further earned an additional fee by choosing a lucky day for the interchange of a formal engagement. At one moment there was a danger that this might never be entered upon, for on the very day after the horoscopes had been cast, Mrs. Le, in dusting her china ornaments, dropped from her hands one of her most cherished bowls, and broke it into a thousand pieces. Horror-stricken at the ill omen, she was at first inclined to forbid the banns, but in talking the matter over with her less superstitious husband, it was agreed between them that the marriage offered so many positive advantages that it would be a pity to break it off for an idea; so the incident was suppressed, and Mr. Le set about preparing the presents which were to be the seal of the engagement.

With great care he chose with the help of his wife six silken dresses befitting the Variegated Swallow's future rank as wife of a Sew-tsai, six ornaments consisting of bangles and earrings, and eight boxes of cakes. Having carefully packed these in red lacquer boxes, each inscribed with a complex character meaning "double happiness," he despatched them, borne by servants dressed in red tunics, together with a pair of engagement cards, adorned with a dragon and a phoenix, and a complimentary letter addressed to the ex-Prefect, all of which he again entrusted to the care of Chang the Golden. After another formal interview and silent meal the ambassador was glad to hurry back, bearing a suitable reply to the more congenial household of his principal, where a place was kept for him at the dinner which was spread to celebrate the engagement.

A few days later another procession left the Le mansion. This time Chang the Golden's sedan-chair was followed by another, and a larger band of red-tunicked men bearing on bamboo poles red lacquer boxes containing ladies' ornaments and nick-nacks, a couple of wild geese, a sheep and jars of wine. On his arrival at Mr. Yang's house he was met by that gentleman as at other times at the doorway, and was conducted to the hall, where, after a few complimentary remarks, Mr. Yang begged that he would name a day for the marriage. In answer to this cue Chang produced from the folds of a red cloth a letter which Mr. Yang, having first laid on the family altar, opened and read as follows:

"Humbly and joyfully I congratulate myself that your Excellency has given your consent to the marriage of your beloved daughter to my unworthy son, who is now longing to go forth to meet her. Let me, therefore, beseech your Excellency to choose a fortunate day for their nuptials. Should you not already have determined upon one, I venture to suggest the 15th day of the 9th month of the present year. I beg to hand you herewith a few trifling presents, and trust that they may not be utterly beneath your notice."

Exactly the same formalities were observed in the delivery of this letter as on the former occasion, and after a similar delay in the aide-decamp's room and a repetition of the same ceremonious repast, Chang the Golden returned to Mr. Le bearing this reply :

*

"Prostrate I received your felicitous commands. The emblematic geese are in my cold hall. But I long for a respite, for the thought of the separation from my daughter is more than I can bear. I pray you to overlook my shame, and to receive kindly my contemptible presents. As to the time you name for the marriage, I should not dare to oppose your decision, but listen reverently for your orders to assist as may be necessary. On my knees I beseech you to look down on this epistle."

As the eighth month was already far advanced, not much time was left to the parents of the young people for the completion of

* Emblems of conjugal fidelity.

all the necessary arrangements; and while the Variegated Swallow, her sisters, female cousins, and servants daily wept with loud lamentations at the prospect of her removal from her old home, Le Ming was entertaining his friends in a series of banquets. On the day immediately preceding the wedding, a procession of porters arrived at Mr. Le's door, bearing on open trays the trousseau of the bride, together with a basket, a broom, curtains, cushions, a mattress, and other things for domestic use. These objects were both numerous and handsome, and as the procession had paraded the principal streets on its route, the people in the neighbourhood had ample opportunities of admiring the liberality of Mr. Yang.

Just as the evening was closing in, a letter was brought to Ming by a travelling merchant who said he had been strictly enjoined to give it into the hands of Ming by a gentleman whose name he had forgotten, at a town he had stopped at for the night two days before. He added that he should be starting on his return by the same road the next morning, and that if Ming would send an answer to his inn, it should be faithfully delivered. Ming recognised the handwriting as that of his former companion, and competitor in the examination halls, Wang, who, having failed to take his degree, had entered his uncle's bank in a neighbouring prefecture as accountant. Glad to find that his friend had not forgotten him, Ming opened the envelope and read as follows:

"I rejoice that the male and female phoenixes sing in harmony, and that you are within reach of the feathery verdure of the matrimonial peach, and within sight of the river's banks. May every joy attend you. Let not any coldness or backwardness on your part mar your joys, and may heaven and earth combine to give you progeny. And now I pray that the heavenly chanticleer may delay his crowing, and that the river drum † may not break in upon your slumbers."

*

Ming, who was in high good humour, was delighted at receiving the good wishes of his friend, and without loss of time he retired to his study and thus wrote in reply:

"It is true that I have now harmoniously arranged a well-assorted marriage, and that the silken threads which entwined our feet have done their work. It now, therefore, only remains for me to hope that, as the ode says, 'the dawn may be darkened.' I was overcome with gratitude when I read your letter, the words of which are engraved on my heart. I thank you for the wish it contains that the heavenly chanticleer may forget to crow, and that the river drum may leave me undisturbed. Did these wishes originate from a recollection of a similar period in your own existence? Hab, hah!"

It was late before the last light was put out at Le's house, while at Yang's the friends of the bride wailed without ceasing throughout the

* This is an allusion to the belief that the cocks are set crowing each morning by a heavenly chanticleer, who crows at earliest dawn.

The morning star,

night. As to the bride herself, she was sent off to bed early in preparation for the morrow. But at early dawn the servants and workpeople in both houses were astir. Mr. Le had portioned off two courtyards, which adjoined the principal buildings of his mansion, for his son's use, and to these rooms the carpenters and upholsterers had given their final touches on the previous evening. On the wedding morning the servants took possession and devoted their first care to the preparation of the wedding feast. In the private apartment they set out two tables, one facing east and the other west, on which they placed fruit, vegetables, a jar of wine, four cups, and the wedding goblet. The legs of the two tables they bound together with threads of red silk, and on the threads they hung two silver bells to tinkle sweet harmony.

66

All these and other preparations occupied the greater part of the day, and as the evening advanced, Ming, who was already dressed in full canonicals, was summoned to the family hall, where he found his father awaiting him. Having graciously received the homage of his son, Mr. Le handed him, while yet on his knees, "the parting cup," filled with the choicest wine of Soochow. This Ming drained to the dregs, and returned empty to the ever present Chang the Golden, who stood by ready to take it. "And now, my son," said his father, as you wish to go in person to receive your bride, go forth, and may every blessing attend you. As soon as you have crossed the threshold I shall betake myself to the family altar, there to inform the spirits of my ancestors of the events of this day." "I obey," replied Ming, and rising from his knees he went out, followed by Chang Kin carrying a pair of live wild geese under his arms, for Ming was determined to have the real thing, and none of the artificial symbols common on such occasions. Before the front door the welding procession had already been duly marshalled. In front were twelve drummers and musicians, behind these stood two servants carrying lighted candles, for by this time it was dusk, next came Ming's and Chang's horses, followed by servants and banner-men, and last of all came the bride's sedan-chair, richly carved, adorned with many colours and bright with gay fringes. As Ming mounted his steed and the procession started, the musicians struck up a sonorous and appropriate air, which attracted a crowd of sightseers along the route.

Meanwhile the Variegated Swallow had been going through the formalities proper to the occasion. After having been attired in her wedding garments by the professional Instructress of matrimony, who had been engaged for the occasion, she also went to receive a parting cup at the hand of her father; but, less fortunate than Ming, she was doomed to listen on her knees to a long lecture on the duties of her new position, in which implicit obedience to the orders of her husband and dutiful attention to her father and mother-in-law were duly insisted upon. This exhortation ended, her mother had scarcely time to say a few words of supplementary wisdom when a servant came to say that the bridegroom's procession was approaching. Instantly the ex-Prefect hurried to the front.

door, while the bride betook herself again to her bedroom to add the last finishing touches to her dress. The meeting between Mr. Yang and Ming, as the latter dismounted from his horse, was ceremonious and cordial, and the ex-Prefect lavished most unusual compliments on his guest, who, with a wild-goose under each arm, had some difficulty in performing the necessary bows as he accompanied his host to the hall of audience. The scene at this moment was bustling and bright. The courtyard was full of the male friends of the Yang family, all dressed in their most brilliant robes, while those among them who were or had been holders of office wore on their caps the coloured buttons of their ranks, to which, in the cases of some who had distinguished themselves, were attached peacocks' feathers of one, two, or three "eyes," according as the wearers had earned a greater or less amount of the Emperor's approval. Inside the hall, under the glazed tiles and upturned corners of the roof, were visible the rich red hangings of the furniture, the delicate tracery and exquisite carving of the doorway and numerous priceless curiosities arranged artistically about the room, while countless servants moved to and fro bearing the nuptial gifts bought by the guests and attending to the wants of all.

Through this throng the ex-Prefect led Ming up the steps into the hall. All eyes were now turned to the two men as they walked with measured pace to the centre of the hall and stopped. The ex-Prefect, with a slight inclination of his head, then turned towards Ming, who still kept his face northwards, while Chang the Golden, taking the geese from Ming's arms, quickly tied their legs together with red silk, and placed them in position on the ground. Mr. Yang's aide-de-camp now stepped forward, and with a bow presented a goblet of wine to Ming, who poured from it a libation to the bound birds, accompanying the action with a kow-tow towards the family altar.

At this moment from behind the screen which concealed the doorway at the northern end of the hall, entered the Variegated Swallow, whose features and even form were completely hidden under a red silken veil which at the last moment the Instructress had thrown over her head. This veil made Ming as invisible to her as she was to him, and it was only, therefore, by the guidance of her two attendants, who supported her one on each side, that she was able to advance and bow in the direction of the spot where her future husband stood. While Ming was gazing with eager curiosity on the figure before him, the attendants cried in chorus, "Bridegroom, bow; your bride departs." Thus recalled to a sense of his duties, Ming returned the poor Variegated Swallow's reverence, and, inviting her to accompany him, left the hall, followed by his bride. On reaching the doorway the bride's two attendants, who had been particularly selected for the office as being women of luck" with husbands and children living, lifted the helpless Variegated Swallow into the chair and carefully shut the door. Again the chorus chanted, "Bridegroom, mount your horse and go before the