STRANGE STORIES FROM A CHINESE STUDIO.

Translated And Annotated By Herbert A. Giles, Of H.M.’S Consular Service.

In Two Volumes. Vol. II.

London: Thos. De La Rue & Co. 110, Bunhill Row.

1880.

Printed By Thomas De La Rue And Co., Bunhill Row, London.

LXIII. THE LOCH‘A COUNTRY AND THE SEAMARKET.

ONCE upon a time there was a young man, named Ma Chün, who was also known as Lungmei. He was the son of a trader, and a youth of surpassing beauty. His manners were courteous, and he loved nothing better than singing and playing. He used to associate with actors, and with an embroidered handkerchief round his head the effect was that of a beautiful woman. Hence he acquired the sobriquet of the Beauty. At fourteen years of age he graduated and began to make a name for himself; but his father, who was growing old and wished to retire from business, said to him, “My boy, book learning will never fill your belly or put a coat on your back; you had much better stick to the old thing.” Accordingly, Ma from that time occupied himself with scales and weights, with principle and interest, and such matters.

He made a voyage across the sea, and was carried away by a typhoon. After being tossed about for many days and nights he arrived at a country where the people were hideously ugly. When these people saw Ma they thought he was a devil and all ran screeching away. Ma was somewhat alarmed at this, but finding that it was they who were frightened at him, he quickly turned their fear to his own advantage. If he came across people eating and drinking he would rush upon them, and when they fled away for fear, he would regale himself upon what they had left. Byandby he went to a village among the hills, and there the people had at any rate some facial resemblance to ordinary men. But they were all in rags and tatters like beggars. So Ma sat down to rest under a tree, and the villagers, not daring to come near him, contented themselves with looking at him from a distance. They soon found, however, that he did not want to eat them, and by degrees approached a little closer to him. Ma, smiling, began to talk; and although their language was different, yet he was able to make himself tolerably intelligible, and told them whence he had come. The villagers were much pleased, and spread the news that the stranger was not a maneater. Nevertheless, the very ugliest of all would only take a look and be off again; they would not come near him. Those who did go up to him were not very much unlike his own countrymen, the Chinese. They brought him plenty of food and wine. Ma asked them what they were afraid of. They replied, “We had heard from our forefathers that 26,000 li to the west there is a country called China. We had heard that the people of that land were the most extraordinary in appearance you can possibly imagine. Hitherto it has been hearsay; we can now believe it.” He then asked them how it was they were so poor. They answered, “You see, in our country everything depends, not on literary talent, but on beauty. The most beautiful are made ministers of state; the next handsomest are made judges and magistrates; and the third class in looks are employed in the palace of the king. Thus these are enabled out of their pay to provide for their wives and families. But we, from our very birth, are regarded by our parents as inauspicious, and are left to perish, some of us being occasionally preserved by more humane parents to prevent the extinction of the family.” Ma asked the name of their country, and they told him it was Loch‘a. Also that the capital city was some 30 li to the north. He begged them to take him there, and next day at cockcrow he started thither wards in their company, arriving just about dawn. The walls of the city were made of black stone, as black as ink, and the city gatehouses were about 100 feet high. Red stones were used for tiles, and picking up a broken piece Ma found that it marked his fingernail like vermilion. They arrived just when the Court was rising, and saw all the equipages of the officials. The village people pointed out one who they said was Prime Minister. His ears drooped forward in flaps; he had three nostrils, and his eyelashes were just like bamboo screens hanging in front of his eyes. Then several came out on horseback, and they said these were the privy councillors. So they went on, telling him the rank of all the ugly uncouth fellows he saw. The lower they got down in the official scale the less hideous the officials were. Byandby Ma went back, the people in the streets marvelling very much to see him, and tumbling helterskelter one over another as if they had met a goblin. The villagers shouted out to reassure them, and then they stood at a distance to look at him. When he got back, there was not a man, woman, or child in the whole nation but knew that there was a strange man at the village; and the gentry and officials became very desirous to see him. However, if he went to any of their houses the porter always slammed the door in his face, and the master, mistress, and family, in general, would only peep at, and speak to him through the cracks. Not a single one dared receive him face to face; but, finally, the village people, at a loss what to do, bethought themselves of a man who had been sent by a former king on official business among strange nations. “He,” said they, “having seen many kinds of men, will not be afraid of you.” So they went to his house, where they were received in a very friendly way. He seemed to be about eighty or ninety years of age; his eyeballs protruded, and his beard curled up like a hedgehog. He said, “In my youth I was sent by the king among many nations, but I never went to China. I am now one hundred and twenty years of age, and that I should be permitted to see a native of your country is a fact which it will be my duty to report to the Throne. For ten years and more I have not been to Court, but have remained here in seclusion; yet I will now make an effort on your behalf.” Then followed a banquet, and when the wine had already circulated pretty freely, some dozen singing girls came in and sang and danced before them. The girls all wore white embroidered turbans, and long scarlet robes which trailed on the ground. The words they uttered were unintelligible, and the tunes they played perfectly hideous. The host, however, seemed to enjoy it very much, and said to Ma, “Have you music in China?” He replied that they had, and the old man asked for a specimen. Ma hummed him a tune, beating time on the table, with which he was very much pleased, declaring that his guest had the voice of a phœnix and the notes of a dragon, such as he had never heard before. The next day he presented a memorial to the Throne, and the king at once commanded Ma to appear before him. Several of the ministers, however, represented that his appearance was so hideous it might frighten His Majesty, and the king accordingly desisted from his intention. The old man returned and told Ma, being quite upset about it. They remained together some time until they had drunk themselves tipsy. Then Ma, seizing a sword, began to attitudinize, smearing his face all over with coaldust. He acted the part of Chang Fei, at which his host was so delighted that he begged him to appear before the Prime Minister in the character of Chang Fei. Ma replied, “I don’t mind a little amateur acting, but how can I play the hypocrite for my own personal advantage?” On being pressed he consented, and the old man prepared a great feast, and asked some of the high officials to be present, telling Ma to paint himself as before. When the guests had arrived, Ma was brought out to see them; whereupon they all exclaimed, “Aiyah! how is it he was so ugly before and is now so beautiful?” Byandby, when they were all taking wine together, Ma began to sing them a most bewitching song, and they got so excited over it that next day they recommended him to the king. The king sent a special summons for him to appear, and asked him many questions about the government of China, to all of which Ma replied in detail, eliciting sighs of admiration from His Majesty. He was honoured with a banquet in the royal guestpavilion, and when the king had made himself tipsy he said to him, “I hear you are a very skilful musician. Will you be good enough to let me hear you?” Ma then got up and began to attitudinize, singing a plaintive air like the girls with the turbans. The king was charmed, and at once made him a privy councillor, giving him a private banquet, and bestowing other marks of royal favour. As time went on his fellowofficials found out the secret of his painted face, and whenever he was among them they were always whispering together, besides which they avoided being near him as much as possible. Thus Ma was left to himself, and found his position anything but pleasant in consequence. So he memorialized the Throne, asking to be allowed to retire from office, but his request was refused. He then said his health was bad, and got three months’ sick leave, during which he packed up his valuables and went back to the village. The villagers on his arrival went down on their knees to him, and he distributed gold and jewels amongst his old friends. They were very glad to see him, and said, “Your kindness shall be repaid when we go to the seamarket; we will bring you some pearls and things.” Ma asked them where that was. They said it was at the bottom of the sea, where the mermaids kept their treasures, and that as many as twelve nations were accustomed to go thither to trade. Also that it was frequented by spirits, and that to get there it was necessary to pass through red vapours and great waves. “Dear Sir,” they said, “do not yourself risk this great danger, but let us take your money and purchase these rare pearls for you. The season is now at hand.” Ma asked them how they knew this. They said, “Whenever we see red birds flying backwards and forwards over the sea, we know that within seven days the market will open.” He asked when they were going to start, that he might accompany them; but they begged him not to think of doing so. He replied, “I am a sailor: how can I be afraid of wind and waves?” Very soon after this people came with merchandise to forward, and so Ma packed up and went on board the vessel that was going.

This vessel held some tens of people, was flat-bottomed with a railing all round, and, rowed by ten men, it cut through the water like an arrow. After a voyage of three days they saw afar off faint outlines of towers and minarets, and crowds of trading vessels. They soon arrived at the city, the walls of which were made of bricks as long as a man’s body, the tops of its buildings being lost in the Milky Way. Having made fast their boat they went in, and saw laid out in the market rare pearls and wondrous precious stones of dazzling beauty, such as are quite unknown amongst men. Then they saw a young man come forth riding upon a beautiful steed. The people of the market stood back to let him pass, saying he was the third son of the king; but when the Prince saw Ma, he exclaimed, “This is no foreigner,” and immediately an attendant drew near and asked his name and country. Ma made a bow, and standing at one side told his name and family. The prince smiled, and said, “For you to have honoured our country thus is no small piece of good luck.” He then gave him a horse and begged him to follow. They went out of the city gate and down to the seashore, whereupon their horses plunged into the water. Ma was terribly frightened and screamed out; but the sea opened dry before them and formed a wall of water on either side. In a little time they reached the king’s palace, the beams of which were made of tortoiseshell and the tiles of fishes’ scales. The four walls were of crystal, and dazzled the eye like mirrors. They got down off their horses and went in, and Ma was introduced to the king. The young prince said, “Sire, I have been to the market, and have got a gentleman from China.” Whereupon Ma made obeisance before the king, who addressed him as follows:—“Sir, from a talented scholar like yourself I venture to ask for a few stanzas upon our seamarket. Pray do not refuse.” Ma thereupon made a kot‘ow and undertook the king’s command. Using an inkslab of crystal, a brush of dragon’s beard, paper as white as snow, and ink scented like the larkspur, Ma immediately threw off some thousand odd verses, which he laid at the feet of the king. When His Majesty saw them, he said, “Sir, your genius does honour to these marine nations of ours.” Then, summoning the members of the royal family, the king gave a great feast in the Coloured Cloud pavilion; and, when the wine had circulated freely, seizing a great goblet in his hand, the king rose and said before all the guests, “It is a thousand pities, Sir, that you are not married. What say you to entering the bonds of wedlock?” Ma rose blushing, and stammered out his thanks; upon which the king looking round spoke a few words to the attendants, and in a few moments in came a bevy of court ladies supporting the king’s daughter, whose ornaments went tinkle, tinkle, as she walked along. Immediately the nuptial drums and trumpets began to sound forth, and bride and bridegroom worshipped Heaven and Earth together. Stealing a glance Ma saw that the princess was endowed with a fairylike loveliness. When the ceremony was over she retired, and byandby the wineparty broke up. Then came several beautifullydressed waitingmaids, who with painted candles escorted Ma within. The bridal couch was made of coral adorned with eight kinds of precious stones, and the curtains were thickly hung with pearls as big as acorns. Next day at dawn a crowd of young slavegirls trooped into the room to offer their services; whereupon Ma got up and went off to Court to pay his respects to the king. He was then duly received as royal soninlaw and made an officer of state. The fame of his poetical talents spread far and wide, and the kings of the various seas sent officers to congratulate him, vying with each other in their invitations to him. Ma dressed himself in gorgeous clothes, and went forth riding on a superb steed, with a mounted bodyguard all splendidly armed. There were musicians on horseback and musicians in chariots, and in three days he had visited every one of the marine kingdoms, making his name known in all directions. In the palace there was a jade tree, about as big round as a man could clasp. Its roots were as clear as glass, and up the middle ran, as it were, a stick of pale yellow. The branches were the size of one’s arm; the leaves like white jade, as thick as a copper cash. The foliage was dense, and beneath its shade the ladies of the palace were wont to sit and sing. The flowers which covered the tree resembled grapes, and if a single petal fell to the earth it made a ringing sound. Taking one up, it would be found to be exactly like carved cornelian, very bright and pretty to look at. From time to time a wonderful bird came and sang there. Its feathers were of a golden hue, and its tail as long as its body. Its notes were like the tinkling of jade, very plaintive and touching to listen to. When Ma heard this bird sing, it called up in him recollections of his old home, and accordingly he said to the princess, “I have now been away from my own country for three years, separated from my father and mother. Thinking of them my tears flow and the perspiration runs down my back. Can you return with me?” His wife replied, “The way of immortals is not that of men. I am unable to do what you ask, but I cannot allow the feelings of husband and wife to break the tie of parent and child. Let us devise some plan.” When Ma heard this he wept bitterly, and the princess sighed and said, “We cannot both stay or both go.” The next day the king said to him, “I hear that you are pining after your old home. Will tomorrow suit you for taking leave?” Ma thanked the king for his great kindness, which he declared he could never forget, and promised to return very shortly. That evening the princess and Ma talked over their wine of their approaching separation. Ma said they would soon meet again; but his wife averred that their married life was at an end. Then he wept afresh, but the princess said, “Like a filial son you are going home to your parents. In the meetings and separations of this life, a hundred years seem but a single day; why, then, should we give way to tears like children? I will be true to you; do you be faithful to me; and then, though separated, we shall be united in spirit, a happy pair. Is it necessary to live side by side in order to grow old together? If you break our contract your next marriage will not be a propitious one; but if loneliness overtakes you then choose a concubine. There is one point more of which I would speak, with reference to our married life. I am about to become a mother, and I pray you give me a name for your child.” To this Ma replied, “If a girl I would have her called Lungkung; if a boy, then name him Fuhai.” The princess asked for some token of remembrance, and Ma gave her a pair of jade lilies that he had got during his stay in the marine kingdom. She added, “On the 8th of the 4th moon, three years hence, when you once more steer your course for this country, I will give you up your child.” She next packed a leather bag full of jewels and handed it to Ma, saying, “Take care of this; it will be a provision for many generations.” When the day began to break a splendid farewell feast was given him by the king, and Ma bade them all adieu. The princess, in a car drawn by snowwhite sheep, escorted him to the boundary of the marine kingdom, where he dismounted and stepped ashore. “Farewell!” cried the princess, as her returning car bore her rapidly away, and the sea, closing over her, snatched her from her husband’s sight. Ma returned to his home across the ocean. Some had thought him long since dead and gone; all marvelled at his story. Happily his father and mother were yet alive, though his former wife had married another man; and so he understood why the princess had pledged him to constancy, for she already knew that this had taken place. His father wished him to take another wife, but he would not. He only took a concubine. Then, after the three years had passed away, he started across the sea on his return journey, when lo! he beheld, riding on the wavecrests and splashing about the water in playing, two young children. On going near, one of them seized hold of him and sprung into his arms; upon which the elder cried until he, too, was taken up. They were a boy and girl, both very lovely, and wearing embroidered caps adorned with jade lilies. On the back of one of them was a worked case, in which Ma found the following letter:—

“I presume my father and mother-in-law are well. Three years have passed away and destiny still keeps us apart. Across the great ocean, the letter bird would find no path. I have been with you in my dreams until I am quite worn out. Does the blue sky look down upon any grief like mine? Yet Ch‘ang-ngo lives solitary in the moon, and Chih Nü laments that she cannot cross the Silver River. Who am I that I should expect happiness to be mine? Truly this thought turns my tears into joy. Two months after your departure I had twins, who can already prattle away in the language of childhood, at one moment snatching a date, at another a pear. Had they no mother they would still live. These I now send to you, with the jade lilies you gave me in their hats, in token of the sender. When you take them upon your knee, think that I am standing by your side. I know that you have kept your promise to me, and I am happy. I shall take no second husband, even unto death. All thoughts of dress and finery are gone from me; my looking glass sees no new fashions; my face has long been unpowdered, my eyebrows unblacked. You are my Ulysses, I am your Penelope; though not actually leading a married life, how can it be said that we are not husband and wife. Your father and mother will take their grandchildren upon their knees, though they have never set eyes upon the bride. Alas! there is something wrong in this. Next year your mother will enter upon the long night. I shall be there by the side of the grave as is becoming in her daughter-in-law. From this time forth our daughter will be well; later on she will be able to grasp her mother’s hand. Our boy, when he grows up, may possibly be able to come to and fro. Adieu, dear husband, adieu, though I am leaving much unsaid.” Ma read the letter over and over again, his tears flowing all the time. His two children clung round his neck, and begged him to take them home. “Ah, my children,” said he, “where is your home?” Then they all wept bitterly, and Ma, looking at the great ocean stretching away to meet the sky, lovely and pathless, embraced his children, and proceeded sorrowfully to return. Knowing, too, that his mother could not last long, he prepared everything necessary for the ceremony of interment, and planted a hundred young pine trees at her grave. The following year the old lady did die, and her coffin was borne to its last resting place, when lo! there was the princess standing by the side of the grave. The lookers-on were much alarmed, but in a moment there was a flash of lightning, followed by a clap of thunder and a squall of rain, and she was gone. It was then noticed that many of the young pine trees which had died were one and all brought to life. Subsequently, Fuhai went in search of the mother for whom he pined so much, and after some days’ absence returned. Lung-kung, being a girl, could not accompany him, but she mourned much in secret. One dark day her mother entered and bid her dry her eyes, saying, “My child, you must get married. Why these tears?” She then gave her a tree of coral eight feet in height, some Baroos camphor, one hundred valuable pearls, and two boxes inlaid with gold and precious stones, as her dowry. Ma having found out she was there, rushed in and seizing her hand began to weep for joy, when suddenly a violent peal of thunder rent the building, and the princess had vanished.

羅剎海市

　　馬驥字龍媒，賈人子，美豐姿，少倜儻，喜歌舞。輒從梨園子弟，以錦帕纏頭，美如好女，因復有「俊人」之號。十四歲入郡庠，即知名。父衰老罷賈而歸，謂生曰：「數卷書，饑不可煮，寒不可衣，吾兒可仍繼父賈。」馬由是稍稍權子母。從人浮海，為颶風引去，數晝夜至一都會。其人皆奇丑，見馬至，以為妖，群嘩而走。馬初見其狀，大懼，迨知國中之駭己也，遂反以此欺國人。遇飲食者則奔而往，人驚遁，則啜其余。久之入山村，其間形貌亦有似人者，然襤褸如丐。馬息樹下，村人不敢前，但遙望之。久之覺馬非噬人者，始稍稍近就之。馬笑與語，其言雖異，亦半可解。馬遂自陳所自，村人喜，遍告鄰里，客非能搏噬者。然奇丑者望望即去，終不敢前；其來者，口鼻位置，尚皆與中國同，共羅漿酒奉馬，馬問其相駭之故，答曰：「嘗聞祖父言：西去二萬六千里，有中國，其人民形象率詭異。但耳食之，今始信。」問其何貧，曰：「我國所重，不在文章，而在形貌。其美之極者，為上卿；次任民社；下焉者，亦邀貴人寵，故得鼎烹以養妻子。若我輩初生時，父母皆以為不祥，往往置棄之，其不忍遽棄者，皆為宗嗣耳。」問：「此名何國？」曰：「大羅剎國。都城在北去三十里。」馬請導往一觀。于是雞鳴而興，引與俱去。

　　天明，始達都。都以黑石為墻，色如墨，樓閣近百尺。然少瓦。覆以紅石，拾其殘塊磨甲上，無異丹砂。時值朝退，朝中有冠蓋出，村人指曰：「此相國也。」視之，雙耳皆背生，鼻三孔，睫毛覆目如簾。又數騎出，曰：「此大夫也。」以次各指其官職，率猙獰怪異。然位漸卑，丑亦漸殺。無何，馬歸，街衢人望見之，噪奔跌蹶，如逢怪物。村人百口解說，市人始敢遙立。既歸，國中咸知有異人，于是搢紳大夫，爭欲一廣見聞，遂令村人要馬。每至一家，閽人輒闔戶，丈夫女子竊竊自門隙中窺語，終一日，無敢延見者。村人曰：「此間一執戟郎，曾為先王出使異國，所閱人多，或不以子為懼。」造郎門。郎果喜，揖為上客。視其貌，如八九十歲人。目睛突出，須卷如猬。曰：「仆少奉王命出使最多，獨未至中華。今一百二十余歲，又得見上國人物，此不可不上聞于天子。然臣臥林下，十余年不踐朝階，早旦為君一行。」乃具飲饌，修主客禮。酒數行，出女樂十余人，更番歌舞。貌類夜叉，皆以自錦纏頭，拖朱衣及地。扮唱不知何詞，腔拍恢詭。主人顧而樂之。問：「中國亦有此樂乎？」曰：「有」。主人請擬其聲，遂擊桌為度一曲。主人喜曰：「異哉！聲如鳳鳴龍嘯，從未曾聞。」

　　翼日趨朝，薦諸國王。王忻然下詔，有二三大夫言其怪狀，恐驚圣體，王乃止。郎出告馬，深為扼腕。居久之，與主人飲而醉，把劍起舞，以煤涂面作張飛。主人以為美，曰：「請君以張飛見宰相，厚祿不難致。」馬曰：「游戲猶可，何能易面目圖榮顯？」主人強之，馬乃諾。主人設筵，邀當路者，令馬繪面以待。客至，呼馬出見客。客訝曰：「異哉！何前媸而今妍也！」遂與共飲，甚歡。馬婆娑歌「弋陽曲」，一座無不傾倒。明日交章薦馬，王喜，召以旌節。既見，問中國治安之道，馬委曲上陳，大蒙嘉嘆，賜宴離宮。酒酣，王曰：「聞卿善雅樂，可使寡人得而聞之乎？」馬即起舞，亦效白錦纏頭，作靡靡之音。王大悅，即日拜下大夫。時與私宴，恩寵殊異。久而官僚知其面目之假，所至，輒見人耳語，不甚與款洽。馬至是孤立，怡然不自安。遂上疏乞休致，不許；又告休沐，乃給三月假。

　　于是乘傳載金寶，復歸村。村人膝行以迎。馬以金資分給舊所與交好者，歡聲雷動。村人曰：「吾儕小人受大夫賜，明日赴海市，當求珍玩以報」，問：「海市何地？」曰：「海中市，四海鮫人，集貨珠寶。四方十二國，均來貿易。中多神人游戲。云霞障天，波濤間作。貴人自重，不敢犯險阻，皆以金帛付我輩代購異珍。今其期不遠矣。」問所自知，曰：「每見海上朱鳥往來，七日即市。」馬問行期，欲同游矚，村人勸使自貴。馬曰：「我顧滄海客，何畏風濤？」未幾，果有踵門寄資者，遂與裝資入船。船容數十人，平底高欄。十人搖櫓，激水如箭。凡三日，遙見水云幌漾之中，樓閣層疊，貿遷之舟，紛集如蟻。少時抵城下，視墻上磚皆長與人等，敵樓高接云漢。維舟而入，見市上所陳，奇珍異寶，光明射目，多人世所無。

　　一少年乘駿馬來，市人盡奔避，云是「東洋三世子。」世子過，目生曰：「此非異域人。」即有前馬者來詰鄉籍。生揖道左，具展邦族。世子喜曰：「既蒙辱臨，緣分不淺！」于是授生騎，請與連轡。乃出西城，方至島岸，所騎嘶躍入水。生大駭失聲。則見海水中分，屹如壁立。俄睹宮殿，玳瑁為梁，魴鱗作瓦，四壁晶明，鑒影炫目。下馬揖入。仰視龍君在上，世子啟奏：「臣游市廛，得中華賢士，引見大王。」生前拜舞。龍君乃言：「先生文學士，必能衙官屈、宋。欲煩椽筆賦『海市』，幸無吝珠玉。」生稽首受命。授以水晶之硯，龍鬣之毫，紙光似雪，墨氣如蘭。生立成千余言，獻殿上。龍君擊節曰：「先生雄才，有光水國矣！」遂集諸龍族，宴集采霞宮。酒炙數行，龍君執爵向客曰：「寡人所憐女，未有良匹，愿累先生。先生倘有意乎？」生離席愧荷，唯唯而已。龍君顧左右語。無何，宮女數人扶女郎出，佩環聲動，鼓吹暴作，拜竟睨之，實仙人也。女拜已而去。少時酒罷，雙鬟挑畫燈，導生入副宮，女濃妝坐伺。珊瑚之床飾以八寶，帳外流蘇綴明珠如斗大，衾褥皆香軟。天方曙，雛女妖鬟，奔入滿側。生起，趨出朝謝。拜為駙馬都尉。以其賦馳傳諸海。諸海龍君，皆專員來賀，爭折簡招駙馬飲。生衣繡裳，坐青虬，呵殿而出。武士數十騎，背雕弧，荷白棓，晃耀填擁。馬上彈箏，車中奏玉。三日間，遍歷諸海。由是「龍媒」之名，噪于四海。宮中有玉樹一株，圍可合抱，本瑩澈如白琉璃，中有心淡黃色，稍細于臂，葉類碧玉，厚一錢許，細碎有濃陰。常與女嘯詠其下。花開滿樹，狀類薝葡。每一瓣落，鏘然作響。拾視之，如赤瑙雕鏤，光明可愛。時有異鳥來鳴，毛金碧色，尾長于身，聲等哀玉，惻人肺腑。生聞之，輒念故土。因謂女曰：「亡出三年，恩慈間阻，每一念及，涕膺汗背。卿能從我歸乎？」女曰：「仙塵路隔，不能相依。妾亦不忍以魚水之愛，奪膝下之歡。容徐謀之。」生聞之，涕不自禁。女亦嘆曰：「此勢之不能兩全者也！」明日，生自外歸。龍王曰：「聞都尉有故土之思，詰旦趣裝，可乎？」生謝曰：「逆旅孤臣，過蒙優寵，銜報之思，結于肺腑。容暫歸省，當圖復聚耳。」入暮，女置酒話別。生訂后會，女曰：「情緣盡矣。」生大悲，女曰：「歸養雙親，見君之孝，人生聚散，百年猶旦暮耳，何用作兒女哀泣？此后妾為君貞，君為妾義，兩地同心，即伉儷也，何必旦夕相守，乃謂之偕老乎？若渝此盟，婚姻不吉。倘慮中饋乏人，納婢可耳。更有一事相囑：自奉衣裳，似有佳朕，煩君命名。」生曰：「其女耶可名龍宮，男耶可名福海。」女乞一物為信，生在羅剎國所得赤玉蓮花一對，出以授女。女曰：「三年后四月八日，君當泛舟南島，還君體胤。」女以魚革為囊，實以珠寶，授生曰：「珍藏之，數世吃著不盡也。」天微明，王設祖帳，饋遺甚豐。生拜別出宮，女乘白羊車。送諸海涘。生上岸下馬，女致聲珍重，回車便去，少頃便遠，海水復合，不可復見。生乃歸。

　　自浮海去，家人無不謂其已死；及至家人皆詫異。幸翁媼無恙，獨妻已去帷。乃悟龍女「守義」之言，蓋已先知也。父欲為生再婚，生不可，納婢焉。謹志三年之期，泛舟島中。見兩兒坐在水面，拍流嬉笑，不動亦不沉。近引之，兒啞然捉生臂，躍入懷中。其一大啼，似嗔生之不援己者。亦引上之。細審之，一男一女，貌皆俊秀。額上花冠綴玉，則赤蓮在焉。背有錦囊，拆視，得書云：「翁姑俱無恙。忽忽三年，紅塵永隔；盈盈一水，青鳥難通，結想為夢，引領成勞。茫茫藍蔚，有恨如何也！顧念奔月姮娥，且虛桂府；投梭織女，猶悵銀河。我何人斯，而能永好？興思及此，輒復破涕為笑。別后兩月，竟得孿生。今已啁啾懷抱，頗解言笑；覓棗抓梨，不母可活。敬以還君。所貽赤玉蓮花，飾冠作信。膝頭抱兒時，猶妾在左右也。聞君克踐舊盟，意愿斯慰。妾此生不二，之死靡他。奩中珍物，不蓄蘭膏；鏡里新妝，久辭粉黛。君似征人，妾作蕩婦，即置而不御，亦何得謂非琴瑟哉？獨計翁姑已得抱孫，曾未一覿新婦，揆之情理，亦屬缺然。歲后阿姑窀穸，當往臨穴，一盡婦職。過此以往，則『龍宮』無恙，不少把握之期；『福海』長生，或有往還之路。伏惟珍重，不盡欲言。」生反覆省書攬涕。兩兒抱頸曰：「歸休乎！」生益慟撫之，曰：「兒知家在何許？」兒啼，嘔啞言歸。生視海水茫茫，極天無際，霧鬟人渺，煙波路窮。抱兒返棹，悵然遂歸。

　　生知母壽不永，周身物悉為預具，墓中植松槚百余。逾歲，媼果亡。靈輿至殯宮，有女子缞绖臨穴。眾驚顧，忽而風激雷轟，繼以急雨，轉瞬已失所在。松柏新植多枯，至是皆活。福海稍長，輒思其母，忽自投入海，數日始還。龍宮以女子不得往，時掩戶泣。一日晝暝，龍女急入，止之曰：「兒自成家，哭泣何為？」乃賜八尺珊瑚一株，龍腦香一帖，明珠百粒，八寶嵌金合一雙，為嫁資。生聞之突入，執手啜泣。俄頃，迅雷破屋，女已無矣。

　　異史氏曰：「花面逢迎，世情如鬼。嗜痂之癖，舉世一轍。『小慚小好，大慚大好』。若公然帶須眉以游都市，其不駭而走者蓋幾希矣！彼陵陽癡子，將抱連城玉向何處哭也？嗚呼！顯榮富貴，當于蜃樓海市中求之耳！」

LXIV. THE FIGHTING CRICKET.

DURING the reign of Hsüan Tê, cricket fighting was very much in vogue at court, levies of crickets being exacted from the people as a tax. On one occasion the magistrate of Huayin, wishing to make friends with the Governor, presented him with a cricket which, on being set to fight, displayed very remarkable powers; so much so that the Governor commanded the magistrate to supply him regularly with these insects. The latter, in his turn, ordered the beadles of his district to provide him with crickets; and then it became a practice for people who had nothing else to do to catch and rear them for this purpose. Thus the price of crickets rose very high; and when the beadle’s runners came to exact even a single one, it was enough to ruin several families.

Now in the village of which we are speaking there lived a man named Ch‘êng, a student who had often failed for his bachelor’s degree; and, being a stupid sort of fellow, his name was sent in for the post of beadle. He did all he could to get out of it, but without success; and by the end of the year his small patrimony was gone. Just then came a call for crickets, and Ch‘êng, not daring to make a like call upon his neighbours, was at his wits’ end, and in his distress determined to commit suicide. “What’s the use of that?” cried his wife. “You’d do better to go out and try to find some.” So off went Ch‘êng in the early morning, with a bamboo tube and a silk net, not returning till late at night; and he searched about in tumbledown walls, in bushes, under stones, and in holes, but without catching more than two or three, do what he would. Even those he did catch were weak creatures, and of no use at all, which made the magistrate fix a limit of time, the result of which was that in a few days Ch‘êng got one hundred blows with the bamboo. This made him so sore that he was quite unable to go after the crickets any more, and, as he lay tossing and turning on the bed, he determined once again to put an end to his life.

About that time a humpbacked fortune-teller of great skill arrived at the village, and Ch‘êng’s wife, putting together a trifle of money, went off to seek his assistance. The door was literally blocked up—fair young girls and white headed dames crowding in from all quarters. A room was darkened, and a bamboo screen hung at the door, an altar being arranged outside at which the fortune seekers burnt incense in a brazier, and prostrated themselves twice, while the soothsayer stood by the side, and, looking up into vacancy, prayed for a response. His lips opened and shut, but nobody heard what he said, all standing there in awe waiting for the answer. In a few moments a piece of paper was thrown from behind the screen, and the soothsayer said that the petitioner’s desire would be accomplished in the way he wished. Ch‘êng’s wife now advanced, and, placing some money on the altar, burnt her incense and prostrated herself in a similar manner. In a few moments the screen began to move, and a piece of paper was thrown down, on which there were no words, but only a picture. In the middle was a building like a temple, and behind this a small hill, at the foot of which were a number of curious stones, with the long, spiky feelers of innumerable crickets appearing from behind. Hard by was a frog, which seemed to be engaged in putting itself into various kinds of attitudes. The good woman had no idea what it all meant; but she noticed the crickets, and accordingly went off home to tell her husband. “Ah,” said he, “this is to shew me where to hunt for crickets;” and, on looking closely at the picture, he saw that the building very much resembled a temple to the east of their village. So he forced himself to get up, and, leaning on a stick, went out to seek crickets behind the temple. Rounding an old grave, he came upon a place where stones were lying scattered about as in the picture, and then he set himself to watch attentively. He might as well have been looking for a needle or a grain of mustard seed; and by degrees he became quite exhausted, without finding anything, when suddenly an old frog jumped out. Ch‘êng was a little startled, but immediately pursued the frog, which retreated into the bushes. He then saw one of the insects he wanted sitting at the root of a bramble; but on making a grab at it, the cricket ran into a hole, from which he was unable to move it until he poured in some water, when out the little creature came. It was a magnificent specimen, strong and handsome, with a fine tail, green neck, and golden wings; and, putting it in his basket, he returned home in high glee to receive the congratulations of his family. He would not have taken anything for this cricket, and proceeded to feed it up carefully in a bowl. Its belly was the colour of a crab’s, its back that of a sweet chestnut; and Ch‘êng tended it most lovingly, waiting for the time when the magistrate should call upon him for a cricket.

Meanwhile, a son of Ch‘êng’s, aged nine, one day took the opportunity of his father being out to open the bowl. Instantaneously the cricket made a spring forward and was gone; and all efforts to catch it again were unavailing. At length the boy made a grab at it with his hand, but only succeeded in seizing one of its legs, which thereupon broke, and the little creature soon afterwards died. Ch‘êng’s wife turned deadly pale when her son, with tears in his eyes, told her what had happened. “Oh! won’t you catch it when your father comes home,” said she; at which the boy ran away, crying bitterly. Soon after Ch‘êng arrived, and when he heard his wife’s story he felt as if he had been turned to ice, and went in search of his son, who, however, was nowhere to be found, until at length they discovered his body lying at the bottom of a well. Their anger was thus turned to grief, and death seemed as though it would be a pleasant relief to them as they sat facing each other in silence in their thatched and smokeless hut. At evening they prepared to bury the boy; but, on touching the body, lo! he was still breathing. Overjoyed, they placed him upon the bed, and towards the middle of the night he came round; but a drop of bitterness was mingled in his parents’ cup when they found that his reason had fled. His father, however, caught sight of the empty bowl in which he had kept the cricket, and ceased to think any more about his son, never once closing his eyes all night; and as day gradually broke, there he lay stiff and stark, until suddenly he heard the chirping of a cricket outside the house door. Jumping up in a great hurry to see, there was his lost insect; but, on trying to catch it, away it hopped directly. At last he got it under his hand, though, when he came to close his fingers on it, there was nothing in them. So he went on, chasing it up and down, until finally it hopped into a corner of the wall; and then, looking carefully about, he espied it once more, no longer the same in appearance, but small, and of a dark red colour. Ch‘êng stood looking at it, without trying to catch such a worthless specimen, when all of a sudden the little creature hopped into his sleeve; and, on examining it more nearly, he saw that it really was a handsome insect, with well-formed head and neck, and forthwith took it indoors. He was now anxious to try its prowess; and it so happened that a young fellow of the village, who had a fine cricket which used to win every bout it fought, and was so valuable to him that he wanted a high price for it, called on Ch‘êng that very day. He laughed heartily at Ch‘êng’s champion, and, producing his own, placed it side by side, to the great disadvantage of the former. Ch‘êng’s countenance fell, and he no longer wished to back his cricket; however, the young fellow urged him, and he thought that there was no use in rearing a feeble insect, and that he had better sacrifice it for a laugh; so they put them together in a bowl. The little cricket lay quite still like a piece of wood, at which the young fellow roared again, and louder than ever when it did not move even though tickled with a pig’s bristle. By dint of tickling it was roused at last, and then it fell upon its adversary with such fury, that in a moment the young fellow’s cricket would have been killed outright had not its master interfered and stopped the fight. The little cricket then stood up and chirped to Ch‘êng as a sign of victory; and Ch‘êng, overjoyed, was just talking over the battle with the young fellow, when a cock caught sight of the insect, and ran up to eat it. Ch‘êng was in a great state of alarm; but the cock luckily missed its aim, and the cricket hopped away, its enemy pursuing at full speed. In another moment it would have been snapped up, when, lo! to his great astonishment, Ch‘êng saw his cricket seated on the cock’s head, holding firmly on to its comb. He then put it into a cage, and by-and-by sent it to the magistrate, who, seeing what a small one he had provided, was very angry indeed. Ch‘êng told the story of the cock, which the magistrate refused to believe, and set it to fight with other crickets, all of which it vanquished without exception. He then tried it with a cock, and as all turned out as Ch‘êng had said, he gave him a present, and sent the cricket in to the Governor. The Governor put it into a golden cage, and forwarded it to the palace, accompanied by some remarks on its performances; and when there, it was found that of all the splendid collection of His Imperial Majesty, not one was worthy to be placed alongside of this one. It would dance in time to music, and thus became a great favourite, the Emperor in return bestowing magnificent gifts of horses and silks upon the Governor. The Governor did not forget whence he had obtained the cricket, and the magistrate also well rewarded Ch‘êng by excusing him from the duties of beadle, and by instructing the Literary Chancellor to pass him for the first degree. A few months afterwards Ch‘êng’s son recovered his intellect, and said that he had been a cricket, and had proved himself a very skilful fighter. The Governor, too, rewarded Ch‘êng handsomely, and in a few years he was a rich man, with flocks, and herds, and houses, and acres, quite one of the wealthiest of mankind.

促織

　　宣德間，宮中尚促織之戲，歲征民間。此物故非西產。有華陰令，欲媚上官，以一頭進，試使斗而才，因責常供。令以責之里正。

　　市中游俠兒，得佳者籠養之，昂其直，居為奇貨。里胥猾黠，假此科斂丁口，每責一頭，輒傾數家之產。

　　邑有成名者，操童子業，久不售。為人迂訥，遂為猾胥報充里正役，百計營謀不能脫。不終歲，薄產累盡。會征促織，成不敢斂戶口，而又無所賠償，憂悶欲死。妻曰：「死何益？不如自行搜覓，冀有萬一之得。」成然之。早出暮歸，提竹筒銅絲籠，于敗堵叢草處探石發穴，靡計不施，迄無濟。即捕三兩頭，又劣弱，不中于款。宰嚴限追比，旬余，杖至百，兩股間膿血流離，并蟲不能行捉矣。轉側床頭，惟思自盡。時村中來一駝背巫，能以神卜。成妻具資詣問，見紅女白婆，填塞門戶。入其室，則密室垂簾，簾外設香幾。問者爇香于鼎，再拜。巫從旁望空代祝，唇吻翕辟，不知何詞，各各竦立以聽。少間，簾內擲一紙出，即道人意中事，無毫發爽。成妻納錢案上，焚香以拜。食頃，簾動，片紙拋落。拾視之，非字而畫，中繪殿閣類蘭若，后小山下怪石亂臥，針針叢棘，青麻頭伏焉；旁一蟆，若將跳舞。展玩不可曉。然睹促織，隱中胸懷，折藏之，歸以示成。成反復自念：「得無教我獵蟲所耶？」細矚景狀，與村東大佛閣真逼似。乃強起扶杖，執圖詣寺后，有古陵蔚起。循陵而走，見蹲石鱗鱗，儼然類畫。遂于蒿萊中側聽徐行，似尋針芥，而心、目、耳力俱窮，絕無蹤響。冥搜未已，一癩頭蟆猝然躍去。成益愕，急逐之。蟆入草間，躡跡披求，見有蟲伏棘根，遽撲之，入石穴中。掭以尖草不出，以筒水灌之始出。狀極俊健，逐而得之。審視：巨身修尾，青項金翅。大喜，籠歸，舉家慶賀，雖連城拱璧不啻也。土于盆而養之，蟹白栗黃，備極護愛。留待限期，以塞官責。

　　成有子九歲，窺父不在，竊發盆，蟲躍躑徑出，迅不可捉。及撲入手，已股落腹裂，斯須就斃。兒懼，啼告母。母聞之，面色灰死，大罵曰：「業根，死期至矣！翁歸，自與汝復算耳！」兒涕而出。未幾成入，聞妻言如被冰雪。怒索兒，兒渺然不知所往；既而，得其尸于井。因而化怒為悲，搶呼欲絕。夫妻向隅，茅舍無煙，相對默然，不復聊賴。

　　日將暮，取兒藁葬，近撫之，氣息惙然。喜置榻上，半夜復蘇，夫妻心稍慰。但兒神氣癡木，奄奄思睡，成顧蟋蟀籠虛，則氣斷聲吞，亦不復以兒為念，自昏達曙，目不交睫。東曦既駕，僵臥長愁。忽聞門外蟲鳴，驚起覘視，蟲宛然尚在，喜而捕之。一鳴輒躍去，行且速。覆之以掌，虛若無物；手裁舉，則又超而躍。急趁之，折過墻隅，迷其所往。徘徊四顧，見蟲伏壁上。審諦之，短小，黑赤色，頓非前物。成以其小，劣之；惟彷徨瞻顧，尋所逐者。壁上小蟲。忽躍落襟袖間，視之，形若土狗，梅花翅，方首長脛，意似良。喜而收之。將獻公堂，惴惴恐不當意，思試之斗以覘之。

　　村中少年好事者，馴養一蟲，自名「蟹殼青」，日與子弟角，無不勝。欲居之以為利，而高其直，亦無售者。徑造廬訪成。視成所蓄，掩口胡盧而笑。因出己蟲，納比籠中。成視之，龐然修偉，自增慚怍，不敢與較。少年固強之。顧念：蓄劣物終無所用，不如拚博一笑。因合納斗盆。小蟲伏不動，蠢若木雞。少年又大笑。試以豬鬣毛撩撥蟲須，仍不動。少年又笑。屢撩之，蟲暴怒，直奔，遂相騰擊，振奮作聲。俄見小蟲躍起，張尾伸須，直龁敵領。少年大駭，解令休止。蟲翹然矜鳴，似報主知。成大喜。

　　方共瞻玩，一雞瞥來，徑進一啄。成駭立愕呼。幸啄不中，蟲躍去尺有咫。雞健進，逐逼之，蟲已在爪下矣。成倉猝莫知所救，頓足失色。旋見雞伸頸擺撲；臨視，則蟲集冠上，力叮不釋。成益驚喜，掇置籠中。

　　翼日進宰。宰見其小，怒訶成。成述其異，宰不信。試與他蟲斗，蟲盡靡；又試之雞，果如成言。乃賞成，獻諸撫軍。撫軍大悅，以金籠進上，細疏其能。既入宮中，舉天下所貢蝴蝶、螳螂、油利撻、青絲額……一切異狀，遍試之，無出其右者。每聞琴瑟之聲，則應節而舞，益奇之。上大嘉悅，詔賜撫臣名馬衣緞。撫軍不忘所自，無何，宰以「卓異」聞。宰悅，免成役；又囑學使，俾入邑庠。后歲余，成子精神復舊，自言：「身化促織，輕捷善斗，今始蘇耳。」撫軍亦厚賚成。不數歲，田百頃，樓閣萬椽，牛羊蹄躈各千計。一出門，裘馬過世家焉。

　　異史氏曰：「天子偶用一物，未必不過此已忘；而奉行者即為定例。加之官貪吏虐，民日貼婦賣兒，更無休止。故天子一跬步皆關民命，不可忽也。第成氏子以蠹貧，以促織富，裘馬揚揚。當其為里正、受撲責時，豈意其至此哉！天將以酬長厚者，遂使撫臣、令尹、并受促織恩蔭。聞之：一人飛升，仙及雞犬。信夫！」

LXV. TAKING REVENGE.

HSIANG KAO, otherwise called Ch‘utan, was a T‘aiyüan man, and deeply attached to his half-brother Shêng. Shêng himself was desperately enamoured of a young lady named Po-ssŭ, who was also very fond of him: but the mother wanted too much money for her daughter. Now a rich young fellow named Chuang thought he should like to get Po-ssŭ for himself, and proposed to buy her as a concubine. “No, no,” said Po-ssŭ to her mother, “I prefer being Shêng’s wife to becoming Chuang’s concubine.” So her mother consented, and informed Shêng, who had only recently buried his first wife; at which he was delighted and made preparations to take her over to his own house. When Chuang heard this he was infuriated against Shêng for thus depriving him of Po-ssŭ; and chancing to meet him out one day, set to and abused him roundly. Shêng answered him back, and then Chuang ordered his attendants to fall upon Shêng and beat him well, which they did, leaving him lifeless on the ground. When Hsiang heard what had taken place he ran out and found his brother lying dead upon the ground. Overcome with grief, he proceeded to the magistrate’s, and accused Chuang of murder; but the latter bribed so heavily that nothing came of the accusation. This worked Hsiang to frenzy, and he determined to assassinate Chuang on the high road; with which intent he daily concealed himself, with a sharp knife about him, among the bushes on the hillside, waiting for Chuang to pass. By degrees, this plan of his became known far and wide, and accordingly Chuang never went out except with a strong bodyguard, besides which he engaged at a high price the services of a very skilful archer, named Chiao T‘ung, so that Hsiang had no means of carrying out his intention. However, he continued to lie in wait day after day, and on one occasion it began to rain heavily, and in a short time Hsiang was wet through to the skin. Then the wind got up, and a hailstorm followed, and by-and-by Hsiang was quite numbed with the cold. On the top of the hill there was a small temple wherein lived a Taoist priest, whom Hsiang knew from the latter having occasionally begged alms in the village, and to whom he had often given a meal. This priest, seeing how wet he was, gave him some other clothes, and told him to put them on; but no sooner had he done so than he crouched down like a dog, and found that he had been changed into a tiger, and that the priest had vanished. It now occurred to him to seize this opportunity of revenging himself upon his enemy; and away he went to his old ambush, where lo and behold! he found his own body lying stiff and stark. Fearing lest it should become food for birds of prey, he guarded it carefully, until at length one day Chuang passed by. Out rushed the tiger and sprung upon Chuang, biting his head off, and swallowing it upon the spot; at which Chiao T‘ung, the archer, turned round and shot the animal through the heart. Just at that moment Hsiang awaked as though from a dream, but it was some time before he could crawl home, where he arrived to the great delight of his family, who didn’t know what had become of him. Hsiang said not a word, lying quietly on the bed until some of his people came in to congratulate him on the death of his great enemy Chuang. Hsiang then cried out, “I was that tiger,” and proceeded to relate the whole story, which thus got about until it reached the ears of Chuang’s son, who immediately set to work to bring his father’s murderer to justice. The magistrate, however, did not consider this wild story as sufficient evidence against him, and thereupon dismissed the case.

向杲

　　向杲字初旦，太原人。與庶兄晟，友于最敦。晟狎一妓，名波斯，有割臂之盟；以其母取直奢，所約不遂。適其母欲從良，願先遣波斯。有莊公子者，素善波斯，請贖為妾。波斯謂母曰：「既願同離水火，是欲出地獄而登天堂也。若妾媵之，相去幾何矣！肯從奴志，向生其可。」母諾之，以意達晟。時晟喪偶未婚，喜，竭貲聘波斯以歸。莊聞，怒奪所好，途中偶逢，大加詬罵。晟不服，遂嗾從人折箠苔之，垂斃，乃去。杲聞奔視，則兄已死。不勝哀憤。具造赴郡。莊廣行賄賂，使其理不得伸。杲隱忿中結，莫可控訴，惟思要路刺殺莊。日懷利刃，伏於山徑之莽。久之，機漸洩。莊知其謀，出則戒備甚嚴；聞汾州有焦桐者，勇而善射，以多金聘為衛。杲無計可施，然猶日伺之。一日，方伏，雨暴作，上下沾濡，寒戰頗苦。既而烈風四塞，冰雹繼至，身忽然痛癢不能復覺。嶺上舊有山神祠，強起奔赴。既入廟，則所識道士在內焉。先是，道士嘗行乞村中，杲輒飯之，道士以故識杲。見杲衣服濡溼，乃以布袍授之，曰：「姑易此。」杲易衣，忍凍蹲若犬，自視，則毛革頓生，身化為虎。道士已失所在。心中驚恨。轉念：得仇人而食其肉，計亦良得。下山伏舊處，見己尸臥叢莽中，始悟前身已死；猶恐葬於烏鳶，時時邏守之。越日，莊始經此，虎暴出，於馬上撲莊落，齕其首，咽之。焦桐返馬而射，中虎腹，蹷然遂斃。杲在錯楚中，恍若夢醒；又經宵，始能行步，厭厭以歸。家人以其連夕不返，方共駭疑，見之，喜相慰問。杲但臥，蹇澀不能語。少間，聞莊信，爭即床頭慶告之。杲乃自言：「虎即我也。」遂述其異。由此傳播。莊子痛父之死甚慘，聞而惡之，因訟杲。官以其事誕而無據，置不理焉。

　　異史氏曰：「壯士志酬，必不生返，此千古所悼恨也。借人之殺以為生，仙人之術亦神哉！然天下事足髮指者多矣。使怨者常為人，恨不令暫作虎！」

LXVI. THE TIPSY TURTLE.

AT Lint‘iao there lived a Mr. Fêng, whose other name the person who told me this story could not remember; he belonged to a good family, though now somewhat falling into decay. Now a certain man, who caught turtles, owed him some money which he could not pay, but whenever he captured any turtles he used to send one to Mr. Fêng. One day he took him an enormous creature, with a white spot on its forehead; but Fêng was so struck with something in its appearance, that he let it go again. A little while afterwards he was returning home from his son-in-law’s, and had reached the banks of the river, when in the dusk of the evening he saw a drunken man come rolling along, attended by two or three servants. No sooner did he perceive Fêng than he called out, “Who are you?” to which Fêng replied that he was a traveller. “And haven’t you got a name?” shouted out the drunken man in a rage, “that you must call yourself a traveller?” To this Fêng made no reply, but tried to pass by; whereupon he found himself seized by the sleeve and unable to move. His adversary smelt horribly of wine, and at length Fêng asked him, saying, “And pray who are you?” “Oh, I am the late magistrate at Nantu,” answered he; “what do you want to know for?” “A nice disgrace to society you are, too,” cried Fêng; “however, I am glad to hear you are only late magistrate, for if you had been present magistrate there would be bad times in store for travellers.” This made the drunken man furious, and he was proceeding to use violence, when Fêng cried out, “My name is So-and-so, and I’m not the man to stand this sort of thing from anybody.” No sooner had he uttered these words than the drunken man’s rage was turned into joy, and, falling on his knees before Fêng, he said, “My benefactor! pray excuse my rudeness.” Then getting up, he told his servants to go on ahead and get something ready; Fêng at first declining to go with him, but yielding on being pressed. Taking his hand, the drunken man led him along a short distance until they reached a village, where there was a very nice house and grounds, quite like the establishment of a person of position. As his friend was now getting sober, Fêng inquired what might be his name. “Don’t be frightened when I tell you,” said the other; “I am the Eighth Prince of the T‘iao river. I have just been out to take wine with a friend, and somehow I got tipsy; hence my bad behaviour to you, which please forgive.” Fêng now knew that he was not of mortal flesh and blood; but, seeing how kindly he himself was treated, he was not a bit afraid. A banquet followed, with plenty of wine, of which the Eighth Prince drank so freely that Fêng thought he would soon be worse than ever, and accordingly said he felt tipsy himself, and asked to be allowed to go to bed. “Never fear,” answered the Prince, who perceived Fêng’s thoughts; “many drunkards will tell you that they cannot remember in the morning the extravagances of the previous night, but I tell you this is all nonsense, and that in nine cases out of ten those extravagances are committed wittingly and with malice prepense. Now, though I am not the same order of being as yourself, I should never venture to behave badly in your good presence; so pray do not leave me thus.” Fêng then sat down again and said to the Prince, “Since you are aware of this, why not change your ways?” “Ah,” replied the Prince, “when I was a magistrate I drank much more than I do now; but I got into disgrace with the Emperor and was banished here, since which time, ten years and more, I have tried to reform. Now, however, I am drawing near the wood, and being unable to move about much, the old vice has come upon me again; I have found it impossible to stop myself, but perhaps what you say may do me some good.” While they were thus talking, the sound of a distant bell broke upon their ears; and the Prince, getting up and seizing Fêng’s hand, said, “We cannot remain together any longer; but I will give you something by which I may in part requite your kindness to me. It must not be kept for any great length of time; when you have attained your wishes, then I will receive it back again.” Thereupon he spit out of his mouth a tiny man, no more than an inch high, and scratching Fêng’s arm with his nails until Fêng felt as if the skin was gone, he quickly laid the little man upon the spot. When he let go, the latter had already sunk into the skin, and nothing was to be seen but a cicatrix well healed over. Fêng now asked what it all meant, but the Prince only laughed, and said, “It’s time for you to go,” and forthwith escorted him to the door. The prince here bade him adieu, and when he looked round, Prince, village, and house had all disappeared together, leaving behind a great turtle which waddled down into the water, and disappeared likewise. He could now easily account for the Prince’s present to him; and from this moment his sight became intensely keen. He could see precious stones lying in the bowels of the earth, and was able to look down as far as Hell itself; besides which he suddenly found that he knew the names of many things of which he had never heard before. From below his own bedroom he dug up many hundred ounces of pure silver, upon which he lived very comfortably; and once when a house was for sale, he perceived that in it lay concealed a vast quantity of gold, so he immediately bought it, and so became immensely rich in all kinds of valuables. He secured a mirror, on the back of which was a phœnix, surrounded by water and clouds, and portraits of the celebrated wives of the Emperor Shun, so beautifully executed that each hair of the head and eyebrows could easily be counted. If any woman’s face came upon the mirror, there it remained indelibly fixed and not to be rubbed out; but if the same woman looked into the mirror again, dressed in a different dress, or if some other woman chanced to look in, then the former face would gradually fade away.

Now the third princess in Prince Su’s family was very beautiful; and Fêng, who had long heard of her fame, concealed himself on the K‘ung-tung hill, when he knew the Princess was going there. He waited until she alighted from her chair, and then getting the mirror full upon her, he walked off home. Laying it on the table, he saw therein a lovely girl in the act of raising her handkerchief, and with a sweet smile playing over her face; her lips seemed about to move, and a twinkle was discernible in her eyes. Delighted with this picture, he put the mirror very carefully away; but in about a year his wife had let the story leak out, and the Prince, hearing of it, threw Fêng into prison, and took possession of the mirror. Fêng was to be beheaded; however, he bribed one of the Prince’s ladies to tell His Highness that if he would pardon him all the treasures of the earth might easily become his; whereas, on the other hand, his death could not possibly be of any advantage to the Prince. The Prince now thought of confiscating all his goods and banishing him; but the third princess observed, that as he had already seen her, were he to die ten times over it would not give her back her lost face, and that she had much better marry him. The Prince would not hear of this, whereupon his daughter shut herself up and refused all nourishment, at which the ladies of the palace were dreadfully alarmed, and reported it at once to the Prince. Fêng was accordingly liberated, and was informed of the determination of the Princess, which, however, he declined to fall in with, saying that he was not going thus to sacrifice the wife of his days of poverty, and would rather die than carry out such an order. He added that if His Highness would consent, he would purchase his liberty at the price of everything he had. The Prince was exceedingly angry at this, and seized Fêng again; and meanwhile one of the concubines got Fêng’s wife into the palace, intending to poison her. Fêng’s wife, however, brought her a beautiful present of a coral stand for a looking glass, and was so agreeable in her conversation, that the concubine took a great fancy to her, and presented her to the Princess, who was equally pleased, and forthwith determined that they would both be Fêng’s wives. When Fêng heard of this plan, he said to his wife, “With a Prince’s daughter there can be no distinctions of first and second wife;” but Mrs. Fêng paid no heed to him, and immediately sent off to the Prince such an enormous quantity of valuables that it took a thousand men to carry them, and the Prince himself had never before heard of such treasures in his life. Fêng was now liberated once more, and solemnized his marriage with the Princess.

One night after this he dreamt that the Eighth Prince came to him and asked him to return his former present, saying that to keep it too long would be injurious to his chances of life. Fêng asked him to take a drink, but the Eighth Prince said that he had forsworn wine, acting under Fêng’s advice, for three years. He then bit Fêng’s arm, and the latter waked up with the pain to find that the cicatrix on his arm was no longer there.

八大王

　　臨洮馮生，蓋貴介裔而陵夷矣。有漁鱉者，負其債不能償，得鱉輒獻之。一日，獻巨鱉，額有白點。生以其狀異，放之。後自婿家歸，至恆河之側，日已就昏，見一醉者，從二三僮，顛跛而至。遙見生，便問：「何人？」生漫應：「行道者。」醉人怒曰：「寧無姓名，胡言行道者？」生馳驅心急，置不答，逕過之。醉人益怒，捉袂使不得行，酒臭熏人。生更不耐，然力解不能脫。問：「汝何名？」囈然而對曰：「我南都舊令尹也。將何為？」生曰：「世間有此等令尹，辱寞世界矣！幸是舊令尹；假新令尹，將無殺盡途人耶？」醉人怒甚，勢將用武。生大言曰：「我馮某非受人撾打者！」醉人聞之，變怒為懽，踉蹡下拜曰：「是我恩主，唐突勿罪！」起喚從人，先歸治具。生辭之不得。握手行數里，見一小村。既入，則廊舍華好，似貴人家。醉人酲稍解，生始詢其姓字。曰：「言之勿驚，我洮水八大王也。適西山青童招飲，不覺過醉，有犯尊顏，實切愧悚。」生知其妖，以其情辭殷渥，遂不畏怖。俄而設筵豐盛，促坐懽飲。八大王最豪，連舉數觥。生恐其復醉，再作縈擾，偽醉求寢。八大王已喻其意，笑曰：「君得無畏我狂耶？但請勿懼。凡醉人無行，謂隔夜不復記者，欺人耳。酒徒之不德，故犯者十之九。僕雖不齒於儕偶，顧未敢以無賴之行，施之長者，何遂見拒如此？」生乃復坐，正容而諫曰：「既自知之，何勿改行？」八大王曰：「老夫為令尹時，沈湎尤過於今日。自觸帝怒，謫歸島嶼，力返前轍者，十餘年矣。今老將就木，潦倒不能橫飛，故態復作，我自不解耳。茲敬聞命矣。」傾談間，遠鐘已動。八大王起捉臂曰：「相聚不久。蓄有一物，聊報厚德。此不可以久佩，如願後，當見還也。」口中吐一小人，僅寸餘。因以爪掐生臂，痛若膚裂；急以小人按捺其上，釋手已入革裏，甲痕尚在，而漫漫墳起，類痰核狀。驚問之，笑而不答。但曰：「君宜行矣。」送生出，八大王自返。回顧村舍全渺，惟一巨鱉，蠢蠢入水而沒。錯愕久之。自念所獲，必鱉寶也。由此目最明，凡有珠寶之處，黃泉下皆可見；即素所不知之物，亦隨口而知其名。於寢室中掘得藏鏹數百，用度頗充。後有貨故宅者，生視其中有藏鏹無算，遂以重金購居之。由此與王公埒富矣。火齊木難之類皆蓄焉。得一鏡，背有鳳紐，環水雲湘妃之圖，光射里餘，鬚眉皆可數。佳人一照，則影留其中，磨之不能滅也；若改妝重照，或更一美人，則前影消矣。時肅府第三公主絕美，雅慕其名。會主游崆峒，乃往伏山中，伺其下輿，照之而歸，設寘案頭。審視之，見美人在中，拈巾微笑，口欲言而波欲動。喜而藏之。年餘，為妻所洩，聞之肅府。大怒，收之。追鏡去，擬斬。生大賄中貴人，使言於王曰：「王如見赦，天下之至寶，不難致也。不然，有死而已，於王誠無所益。」王欲籍其家而徙之。三公主曰：「彼已窺我，十死亦不足解此玷，不如嫁之。」王不許。公主閉戶不食。妃子大憂，力言於王。王乃釋生囚，命中貴以意示生。生辭曰：「糟糠之妻不下堂，寧死不敢承命。王如聽臣自贖，傾家可也。」王怒，復逮之。妃召生妻入宮，將鴆之。既見，妻以珊瑚鏡臺納妃，辭意溫惻。妃悅之，使參公主。公主亦悅之，訂為姊妹，轉使諭生。生告妻曰：「王侯之女，不可以先後論嫡庶也。」妻不聽，歸修聘幣納王邸，齎送者迨千人。珍石寶玉之屬，王家不能知其名。王大喜，釋生歸，以公主嬪焉。公主仍懷鏡歸。生一夕獨寢，夢八大王軒然入曰：「所贈之物，當見還也。佩之若久，耗人精血，損人壽命。」生諾之，即留宴飲。八大王辭曰：「自聆藥石，戒杯中物已三年矣。」乃以口囓生臂，痛極而醒。視之，則核塊消矣。後此遂如常人。

　　異史氏曰：「醒則猶人，而醉則猶鱉，此酒人之大都也。顧鱉雖日習於酒狂乎，而不敢忘恩，不敢無禮於長者，鱉不過人遠哉？若夫己氏則醒不如人，而醉不如鱉矣。古人有龜鑑，盍以為鱉鑑乎？乃作『酒人賦』。賦曰：『有一物焉，陶情適口；飲之則醺醺騰騰，厥名為「酒」。其名最多，為功已久：以宴嘉賓，以速父舅，以促膝而為懽，以合巹而成偶；或以為「釣詩鉤」，又以為「掃愁帚」。故麴生頻來，則騷客之金蘭友；醉鄉深處，則愁人之逋逃藪。糟邱之臺既成，鴟夷之功不朽。齊臣遂能一石，學士亦稱五斗。則酒固以人傳，而人或以酒醜。若夫落帽之孟嘉，荷鍤之伯倫，山公之倒其接䍦，彭澤之漉以葛巾。酣眠乎美人之側也，或察其無心；濡首於墨汁之中也，自以為有神。井底臥乘舩之士，槽邊縛珥玉之臣。甚至效鱉囚而玩世，亦猶非害物而不仁。至如雨宵雪夜，月旦花晨，風定塵短，客舊妓新，履舄交錯，蘭麝香沉，細批薄抹，低唱淺斟；忽清商兮一奏，則寂若兮無人。雅謔則飛花粲齒，高吟則戛玉敲金。總陶然而大醉，亦魂清而夢真。果爾，即一朝一醉，當亦名教之所不嗔。爾乃嘈雜不韻，俚詞並進；坐起讙譁，呶呶成陣。涓滴忿爭，勢將投刃；伸頸攢眉，引杯若鴆；傾瀋碎觥，拂燈滅燼。綠醑葡萄，狼籍不靳；病葉狂花，觴政所禁。如此情懷，不如弗飲。又有酒隔咽喉，間不盈寸；吶吶呢呢，猶譏主吝；坐不言行，飲復不任：酒客無品，於斯為甚。甚有狂藥下，客氣粗；努石棱，磔鬡鬚；袒兩背，躍雙趺。塵濛濛兮滿面，哇浪浪兮沾裾；口狺狺兮亂吠，髮蓬蓬兮若奴。其籲地而呼天也，似李郎之嘔其肝臟；其揚手而擲足也，如蘇相之裂於牛車。舌底生蓮者，不能窮其狀；燈前取影者，不能為之圖。父母前而受忤，妻子弱而難扶。或以父執之良友，無端而受罵於灌夫。婉言以警，倍益眩瞑。此名「酒凶」，不可救拯。惟有一術，可以解酩。厥術維何？祇須一梃。縶其手足，與斬豕等。止困其臀，勿傷其頂，捶至百餘，豁然頓醒。』」

LXVII. THE MAGIC PATH.

IN the province of Kuang-tung there lived a scholar named Kuo, who was one evening on his way home from a friend’s, when he lost his way among the hills. He got into a thick jungle, where, after about an hour’s wandering, he suddenly heard the sound of laughing and talking on the top of the hill. Hurrying up in the direction of the sound, he beheld some ten or a dozen persons sitting on the ground engaged in drinking. No sooner had they caught sight of Kuo than they all cried out, “Come along! just room for one more; you’re in the nick of time.” So Kuo sat down with the company, most of whom, he noticed, belonged to the literati, and began by asking them to direct him on his way home; but one of them cried out, “A nice sort of fellow you are, to be bothering about your way home, and paying no attention to the fine moon we have got tonight.” The speaker then presented him with a goblet of wine of exquisite bouquet, which Kuo drank off at a draught, and another gentleman filled up again for him at once. Now, Kuo was pretty good in that line, and being very thirsty withal from his long walk, tossed off bumper after bumper, to the great delight of his hosts, who were unanimous in voting him a jolly good fellow. He was, moreover, full of fun, and could imitate exactly the note of any kind of bird; so all of a sudden he began on the sly to twitter like a swallow, to the great astonishment of the others, who wondered how it was a swallow could be out so late. He then changed his note to that of a cuckoo, sitting there laughing and saying nothing, while his hosts were discussing the extraordinary sounds they had just heard. After a while he imitated a parrot, and cried, “Mr. Kuo is very drunk: you’d better see him home;” and then the sounds ceased, beginning again by-and-by, when at last the others found out who it was, and all burst out laughing. They screwed up their mouths and tried to whistle like Kuo, but none of them could do so; and soon one of them observed, “What a pity Madam Ch‘ing isn’t with us: we must rendezvous here again at mid-autumn, and you, Mr. Kuo, must be sure and come.” Kuo said he would, whereupon another of his hosts got up and remarked that, as he had given them such an amusing entertainment, they would try to shew him a few acrobatic feats. They all arose, and one of them planting his feet firmly, a second jumped up on to his shoulders, a third on to the second’s shoulders, and a fourth on to his, until it was too high for the rest to jump up, and accordingly they began to climb as though it had been a ladder. When they were all up, and the topmost head seemed to touch the clouds, the whole column bent gradually down until it lay along the ground transformed into a path. Kuo remained for some time in a state of considerable alarm, and then, setting out along this path, ultimately reached his own home. Some days afterwards he revisited the spot, and saw the remains of a feast lying about on the ground, with dense bushes on all sides, but no sign of a path. At mid-autumn he thought of keeping his engagement; however, his friends persuaded him not to go.

郭秀才

　　東粵士人郭某，暮自友人歸，入山迷路，竄榛莽中。更許，聞山頭笑語，急趨之。見十餘人，藉地飲。望見郭，鬨然曰：「坐中正欠一客，大佳，大佳！」郭既坐，見諸客半儒巾，便請指迷。一人笑曰：「君真酸腐！舍此明月不賞，何求道路？」即飛一觥來。郭飲之，芳香射鼻，一引遂盡。又一人持壺傾注。郭故善飲，又復奔馳吻燥，一舉十觴。眾人大贊曰：「豪哉！真吾友也！」郭放達喜謔，能學禽語，無不酷肖。離坐起溲，竊作燕子鳴。眾疑曰：「半夜何得此耶？」又效杜鵑，眾益疑。郭坐，但笑不言。方紛議問，郭回首為鸚鵡鳴曰：「郭秀才醉矣，送他歸也！」眾驚聽，寂不復聞。少頃，又作之。既而悟其為郭，始大笑。皆撮口從學，無一能者。一人曰：「可惜青娘子未至。」又一人曰：「中秋還集於此，郭先生不可不來。」郭敬諾。一人起曰：「客有絕技；我等亦獻踏肩之戲，若何？」於是譁然並起。前一人挺身矗立；即有一人飛登肩上，亦矗立；累至四人，高不可登；繼至者，攀肩踏臂，如緣梯狀：十餘人，頃刻都盡，望之可接霄漢。方驚顧間，挺然倒地，化為修道一線。郭駭立良久，遵道得歸。翼日，腹大痛；溺綠色，似銅青，著物能染，亦無溺氣，三日乃已。往驗故處，則肴骨狼藉，四圍叢莽，並無道路。至中秋，郭欲赴約，朋友諫止之。設斗膽再往一會青娘子，必更有異。惜乎其見之搖也！

LXVIII. THE FAITHLESS WIDOW.

MR. NIU was a Kiangsi man who traded in piece goods. He married a wife from the Chêng family, by whom he had two children, a boy and a girl. When thirty-three years of age he fell ill and died, his son Chung being then only twelve and his little girl eight or nine. His wife did not remain faithful to his memory, but, selling off all the property, pocketed the proceeds and married another man, leaving her two children almost in a state of destitution with their aunt, Niu’s sister-in-law, an old lady of sixty, who had lived with them previously, and had now nowhere to seek a shelter. A few years later this aunt died, and the family fortunes began to sink even lower than before; Chung, however, was now grown up, and determined to carry on his father’s trade, only he had no capital to start with. His sister marrying a rich trader named Mao, she begged her husband to lend Chung ten ounces of silver, which he did, and Chung immediately started for Nanking. On the road he fell in with some bandits, who robbed him of all he had, and consequently he was unable to return; but one day when he was at a pawnshop he noticed that the master of the shop was wonderfully like his late father, and on going out and making inquiries he found that this pawnbroker bore precisely the same names. In great astonishment, he forthwith proceeded to frequent the place with no other object than to watch this man, who, on the other hand, took no notice of Chung; and by the end of three days, having satisfied himself that he really saw his own father, and yet not daring to disclose his own identity, he made application through one of the assistants, on the score of being himself a Kiangsi man, to be employed in the shop. Accordingly, an indenture was drawn up; and when the master noticed Chung’s name and place of residence he started, and asked him whence he came. With tears in his eyes Chung addressed him by his father’s name, and then the pawnbroker became lost in a deep reverie, byandby asking Chung how his mother was. Now Chung did not like to allude to his father’s death, and turned the question by saying, “My father went away on business six years ago, and never came back; my mother married again and left us, and had it not been for my aunt our corpses would long ago have been cast out in the kennel.” Then the pawnbroker was much moved, and cried out, “I am your father!” seizing his son’s hand and leading him within to see his stepmother. This lady was about twentytwo, and, having no children of her own, was delighted with Chung, and prepared a banquet for him in the inner apartments. Mr. Niu himself was, however, somewhat melancholy, and wished to return to his old home; but his wife, fearing that there would be no one to manage the business, persuaded him to remain; so he taught his son the trade, and in three months was able to leave it all to him. He then prepared for his journey, whereupon Chung informed his stepmother that his father was really dead, to which she replied in great consternation that she knew him only as a trader to the place, and that six years previously he had married her, which proved conclusively that he couldn’t be dead. He then recounted the whole story, which was a perfect mystery to both of them; and twentyfour hours afterwards in walked his father, leading a woman whose hair was all dishevelled. Chung looked at her and saw that she was his own mother; and Niu took her by the ear and began to revile her, saying, “Why did you desert my children?” to which the wretched woman made no reply. He then bit her across the neck, at which she screamed to Chung for assistance, and he, not being able to bear the sight, stepped in between them. His father was more than ever enraged at this, when, lo! Chung’s mother had disappeared. While they were still lost in astonishment at this strange scene, Mr. Niu’s colour changed; in another moment his empty clothes had dropped upon the ground, and he himself became a black vapour and also vanished from their sight. The stepmother and son were much overcome; they took Niu’s clothes and buried them, and after that Chung continued his father’s business and soon amassed great wealth. On returning to his native place he found that his mother had actually died on the very day of the above occurrence, and that his father had been seen by the whole family.

牛成章

　　牛成章，江西之布商也。娶鄭氏，生子女各一。牛三十三歲病死。子名忠，時方十二；女八九歲而已。母不能貞，貨產入囊，改醮而去。遺兩孤，難以存濟。有牛從嫂，年已六袠，貧寡無歸，送與居處。數年，嫗死，家益替。而忠漸長，思繼父業而苦無貲。妹適毛姓，毛富賈也。女哀婿假數十金付兄。兄從人適金陵，途中遇寇，資斧盡喪，飄蕩不能歸。偶趨典肆，見主肆者絕類其父；出而潛察之，姓字皆符。駭異不諭其故。惟日流連其傍，以窺意旨，而其人亦略不顧問。如此三日，覘其言笑舉止，真父無訛。即又不敢拜識；乃自陳於群小，求以同鄉之故，進身為傭。立券已，主人視其里居、姓氏，似有所動，問所從來。忠泣訴父名，主人悵然若失。久之，問：「而母無恙乎？」忠又不敢謂父死，婉應曰：「我父六年前，經商不返，母醮而去。幸有伯母撫育，不然，葬溝瀆久矣。」主人慘然曰：「我即是汝父也。」於是握手悲哀。又導入參其後母。後母姬，年三十餘，無出，得忠喜，設宴寢門。牛終欷歔不樂，即欲一歸故里。妻慮肆中乏人，故止之。牛乃率子紀理肆務；居之三月，乃以諸籍委子，取裝西歸。既別，忠實以父死告母。姬乃大驚，言：「彼負販於此，曩所與交好者，留作當商；娶我已六年矣。何言死耶？」忠又細述之。相與疑念，不喻其由。踰一晝夜，而牛已返。攜一婦人，頭如蓬葆。忠視之，則其所生母也。牛摘耳頓罵：「何棄吾兒！」婦懾伏不敢少動。牛以口齕其項。婦呼忠曰：「兒救吾！兒救吾！」忠大不忍，橫身蔽鬲其間。牛猶忿怒，婦已不見。眾大驚，相譁以鬼。旋視牛，顏色慘變，委衣於地，化為黑氣，亦尋滅矣。母子駭歎，舉衣冠而瘞之。忠席父業，富有萬金。後歸家問之，則嫁母於是日死，一家皆見牛成章云。

LXIX. THE PRINCESS OF THE TUNGT‘ING LAKE.

CH‘ÊN PICHIAO was a Pekingese; and being a poor man he attached himself as secretary to the suite of a high military official named Chia. On one occasion, while anchored on the Tungt‘ing lake, they saw a dolphin floating on the surface of the water; and General Chia took his bow and shot at it, wounding the creature in the back. A fish was hanging on to its tail, and would not let go; so both were pulled out of the water together, and attached to the mast. There they lay gasping, the dolphin opening its mouth as if pleading for life, until at length young Ch‘ên begged the General to let them go again; and then he himself half-jokingly put a piece of plaster upon the dolphin’s wound, and had the two thrown back into the water, where they were seen for some time afterwards diving and rising again to the surface. About a year afterwards, Ch‘ên was once more crossing the Tungt‘ing lake on his way home, when the boat was upset in a squall, and he himself only saved by clinging to a bamboo crate, which finally, after floating about all night, caught in the overhanging branch of a tree, and thus enabled him to scramble on shore. By-and-by, another body floated in, and this turned out to be his servant; but on dragging him out, he found life was already extinct. In great distress, he sat himself down to rest, and saw beautiful green hills and waving willows, but not a single human being of whom he could ask the way. From early dawn till the morning was far advanced he remained in that state; and then, thinking he saw his servant’s body move, he stretched out his hand to feel it, and before long the man threw up several quarts of water and recovered his consciousness. They now dried their clothes in the sun, and by noon these were fit to put on; at which period the pangs of hunger began to assail them, and accordingly they started over the hills in the hope of coming upon some habitation of man. As they were walking along, an arrow whizzed past, and the next moment two young ladies dashed by on handsome palfreys. Each had a scarlet band round her head, with a bunch of pheasant’s feathers stuck in her hair, and wore a purple riding jacket with small sleeves, confined by a green embroidered girdle round the waist. One of them carried a crossbow for shooting bullets, and the other had on her arm a dark coloured bow-and-arrow case. Reaching the brow of the hill, Ch‘ên beheld a number of riders engaged in beating the surrounding cover, all of whom were beautiful girls and dressed exactly alike. Afraid to advance any further, he inquired of a youth who appeared to be in attendance, and the latter told him that it was a hunting party from the palace; and then, having supplied him with food from his wallet, he bade him retire quickly, adding that if he fell in with them he would assuredly be put to death. Thereupon Ch‘ên hurried away; and descending the hill, turned into a copse where there was a building which he thought would in all probability be a monastery. On getting nearer, he saw that the place was surrounded by a wall, and between him and a half open red door was a brook spanned by a stone bridge leading up to it. Pulling back the door, he beheld within a number of ornamental buildings circling in the air like so many clouds, and for all the world resembling the Imperial pleasure grounds; and thinking it must be the park of some official personage, he walked quietly in, enjoying the delicious fragrance of the flowers as he pushed aside the thick vegetation which obstructed his way. After traversing a winding path fenced in by balustrades, Ch‘ên reached a second enclosure, wherein were a quantity of tall willow trees which swept the red eaves of the buildings with their branches. The note of some bird would set the petals of the flowers fluttering in the air, and the least wind would bring the seed vessels down from the elm trees above; and the effect upon the eye and heart of the beholder was something quite unknown in the world of mortals. Passing through a small kiosque, Ch‘ên and his servant came upon a swing which seemed as though suspended from the clouds, while the ropes hung idly down in the utter stillness that prevailed. Thinking by this that they were approaching the ladies’ apartments, Ch‘ên would have turned back, but at that moment he heard sounds of horses’ feet at the door, and what seemed to be the laughter of a bevy of girls. So he and his servant hid themselves in a bush; and by-and-by, as the sounds came nearer, he heard one of the young ladies say, “We’ve had but poor sport today;” whereupon another cried out, “If the princess hadn’t shot that wild goose, we should have taken all this trouble for nothing.” Shortly after this, a number of girls dressed in red came in escorting a young lady, who went and sat down under the kiosque. She wore a hunting costume with tight sleeves, and was about fourteen or fifteen years old. Her hair looked like a cloud of mist at the back of her head, and her waist seemed as though a breath of wind might snap it—incomparable for beauty, even among the celebrities of old. Just then the attendants handed her some exquisitely fragrant tea, and stood glittering round her like a bank of beautiful embroidery. In a few moments the young lady arose and descended the kiosque; at which one of her attendants cried out, “Is your Highness too fatigued by riding to take a turn in the swing?” The princess replied that she was not; and immediately some supported her under the shoulders, while others seized her arms, and others again arranged her petticoats, and brought her the proper shoes. Thus they helped her into the swing, she herself stretching out her shining arms, and putting her feet into a suitable pair of slippers; and then—away she went, light as a flying swallow, far up into the fleecy clouds. As soon as she had had enough, the attendants helped her out, and one of them exclaimed, “Truly, your Highness is a perfect angel!” At this the young lady laughed, and walked away, Ch‘ên gazing after her in a state of semi-consciousness, until, at length, the voices died away, and he and his servant crept forth. Walking up and down near the swing, he suddenly espied a red handkerchief near the paling, which he knew had been dropped by one of the young ladies; and, thrusting it joyfully into his sleeve, he walked up and entered the kiosque. There, upon a table, lay writing materials, and taking out the handkerchief he indited upon it the following lines:—

“What form divine was just now sporting nigh?—

’Twas she, I trow of ‘golden lily’ fame;

Her charms the moon’s fair denizens might shame,

Her fairy footsteps bear her to the sky.”

Humming this stanza to himself, Ch‘ên walked along seeking for the path by which he had entered; but every door was securely barred, and he knew not what to do. So he went back to the kiosque, when suddenly one of the young ladies appeared, and asked him in astonishment what he did there. “I have lost my way,” replied Ch‘ên; “I pray you lend me your assistance.” “Do you happen to have found a red handkerchief?” said the girl. “I have, indeed,” answered Ch‘ên, “but I fear I have made it somewhat dirty;” and, suiting the action to the word, he drew it forth, and handed it to her. “Wretched man!” cried the young lady, “you are undone. This is a handkerchief the princess is constantly using, and you have gone and scribbled all over it; what will become of you now?” Ch‘ên was in a great fright, and begged the young lady to intercede for him; to which she replied, “It was bad enough that you should come here and spy about; however, being a scholar, and a man of refinement, I would have done my best for you; but after this, how am I to help you?” Off she then ran with the handkerchief, while Ch‘ên remained behind in an agony of suspense, and longing for the wings of a bird to bear him away from his fate. By-and-by, the young lady returned and congratulated him, saying, “There is some hope for you. The Princess read your verses several times over, and was not at all angry. You will probably be released; but, meanwhile, wait here, and don’t climb the trees, or try to get through the walls, or you may not escape after all.” Evening was now drawing on, and Ch‘ên knew not, for certain, what was about to happen; at the same time he was very empty, and, what with hunger and anxiety, death would have been almost a happy release. Before long, the young lady returned with a lamp in her hand, and followed by a slave girl bearing wine and food, which she forthwith presented to Ch‘ên. The latter asked if there was any news about himself; to which the young lady replied that she had just mentioned his case to the Princess who, not knowing what to do with him at that hour of the night, had given orders that he should at once be provided with food, “which, at any rate,” added she, “is not bad news.” The whole night long Ch‘ên walked up and down unable to take rest; and it was not till late in the morning that the young lady appeared with more food for him. Imploring her once more to intercede on his behalf, she told him that the Princess had not instructed them either to kill or to release him, and that it would not be fitting for such as herself to be bothering the Princess with suggestions. So there Ch‘ên still remained until another day had almost gone, hoping for the welcome moment; and then the young lady rushed hurriedly in, saying, “You are lost! Some one has told the Queen, and she, in a fit of anger, threw the handkerchief on the ground, and made use of very violent language. Oh dear! oh dear! I’m sure something dreadful will happen.” Ch‘ên threw himself on his knees, his face as pale as ashes, and begged to know what he should do; but at that moment sounds were heard outside, and the young lady waved her hand to him, and ran away. Immediately a crowd came pouring in through the door, with ropes ready to secure the object of their search; and among them was a slave girl, who looked fixedly at our hero, and cried out, “Why, surely you are Mr. Ch‘ên, aren’t you?” at the same time stopping the others from binding him until she should have reported to the Queen. In a few minutes she came back, and said the Queen requested him to walk in; and in he went, through a number of doors, trembling all the time with fear, until he reached a hall, the screen before which was ornamented with green jade and silver. A beautiful girl drew aside the bamboo curtain at the door, and announced, “Mr. Ch‘ên;” and he himself advanced, and fell down before a lady, who was sitting upon a dais at the other end, knocking his head upon the ground, and crying out, “Thy servant is from a far-off country; spare, oh! spare his life.” “Sir!” replied the Queen, rising hastily from her seat, and extending a hand to Ch‘ên, “but for you, I should not be here today. Pray excuse the rudeness of my maids.” Thereupon a splendid repast was served, and wine was poured out in chased goblets, to the no small astonishment of Ch‘ên, who could not understand why he was treated thus. “Your kindness,” observed the Queen, “in restoring me to life, I am quite unable to repay; however, as you have made my daughter the subject of your verse, the match is clearly ordained by fate, and I shall send her along to be your handmaid.” Ch‘ên hardly knew what to make of this extraordinary accomplishment of his wishes, but the marriage was solemnized there and then; bands of music struck up wedding airs, beautiful mats were laid down for them to walk upon, and the whole place was brilliantly lighted with a profusion of coloured lamps. Then Ch‘ên said to the Princess, “That a stray and unknown traveller like myself, guilty of spoiling your Highness’s handkerchief, should have escaped the fate he deserved, was already more than could be expected; but now to receive you in marriage—this, indeed, far surpasses my wildest expectations.” “My mother,” replied the Princess, “is married to the King of this lake, and is herself a daughter of the River Prince. Last year, when on her way to visit her parents, she happened to cross the lake, and was wounded by an arrow; but you saved her life, and gave her plaster for the wound. Our family, therefore, is grateful to you, and can never forget your good act. And do not regard me as of another species than yourself; the Dragon King has bestowed upon me the elixir of immortality, and this I will gladly share with you.” Then Ch‘ên knew that his wife was a spirit, and by-and-by he asked her how the slave girl had recognised him; to which she replied, that the girl was the small fish which had been found hanging to the dolphin’s tail. He then inquired why, as they didn’t intend to kill him, he had been kept so long a prisoner. “I was charmed with your literary talent,” answered the Princess, “but I did not venture to take the responsibility upon myself; and no one saw how I tossed and turned the livelong night.” “Dear friend,” said Ch‘ên; “but, come, tell me who was it that brought my food.” “A trusty waiting maid of mine,” replied the Princess; “her name is Anien.” Ch‘ên then asked how he could ever repay her, and the Princess told him there would be plenty of time to think of that; and when he inquired where the king, her father, was, she said he had gone off with the God of War to fight against Ch‘ih-yu, and had not returned. A few days passed, and Ch‘ên began to think his people at home would be anxious about him; so he sent off his servant with a letter to tell them he was safe and sound, at which they were all overjoyed, believing him to have been lost in the wreck of the boat, of which event news had already reached them. However, they were unable to send him any reply, and were considerably distressed as to how he would find his way home again. Six months afterwards Ch‘ên himself appeared, dressed in fine clothes, and riding on a splendid horse, with plenty of money, and valuable jewels in his pocket—evidently a man of wealth. From that time forth he kept up a magnificent establishment; and in seven or eight years had become the father of five children. Every day he kept open house, and if any one asked him about his adventures, he would readily tell them without reservation. Now a friend of his, named Liang, whom he had known since they were boys together, and who, after holding an appointment for some years in Nanfu, was crossing the Tungt‘ing Lake, on his way home, suddenly beheld an ornamental barge, with carved woodwork and red windows, passing over the foamy waves to the sound of music and singing from within. Just then a beautiful young lady leant out of one of the windows, which she had pushed open, and by her side Liang saw a young man sitting, in a negligée attitude, while two nice-looking girls stood by and shampooed him. Liang, at first, thought it must be the party of some high official, and wondered at the scarcity of attendants; but, on looking more closely at the young man, he saw it was no other than his old friend Ch‘ên. Thereupon he began almost involuntarily to shout out to him; and when Ch‘ên heard his own name, he stopped the rowers, and walked out towards the figurehead, beckoning Liang to cross over into his boat, where the remains of their feast was quickly cleared away, and fresh supplies of wine, and tea, and all kinds of costly foods spread out by handsome slave girls. “It’s ten years since we met,” said Liang, “and what a rich man you have become in the meantime.” “Well,” replied Ch‘ên, “do you think that so very extraordinary for a poor fellow like me?” Liang then asked him who was the lady with whom he was taking wine, and Ch‘ên said she was his wife, which very much astonished Liang, who further inquired whither they were going. “Westwards,” answered Ch‘ên, and prevented any further questions by giving a signal for the music, which effectually put a stop to all further conversation. By-and-by, Liang found the wine getting into his head, and seized the opportunity to ask Ch‘ên to make him a present of one of his beautiful slave girls. “You are drunk, my friend,” replied Ch‘ên; “however, I will give you the price of one as a pledge of our old friendship.” And, turning to a servant, he bade him present Liang with a splendid pearl, saying, “Now you can buy a Green Pearl; you see I am not stingy;” adding forthwith, “but I am pressed for time, and can stay no longer with my old friend.” So he escorted Liang back to his boat, and, having let go the rope, proceeded on his way. Now, when Liang reached home, and called at Ch‘ên’s house, whom should he see but Ch‘ên himself drinking with a party of friends. “Why, I saw you only yesterday,” cried Liang, “upon the Tungt‘ing. How quickly you have got back!” Ch‘ên denied this, and then Liang repeated the whole story, at the conclusion of which, Ch‘ên laughed, and said, “You must be mistaken. Do you imagine I can be in two places at once?” The company were all much astonished, and knew not what to make of it; and subsequently when Ch‘ên, who died at the age of eighty, was being carried to his grave, the bearers thought the coffin seemed remarkably light, and on opening it to see, found that the body had disappeared.

西湖主

　　陳生弼教，字明允，燕人也。家貧，從副將軍賈綰作記室。泊舟洞庭。適豬婆龍浮水面，賈射之中背。有魚啣龍尾不去，並獲之。鎖置桅間，奄存氣息；而龍吻張翕，似求援拯。生惻然心動，請於賈而釋之。攜有金創藥，戲敷患處，縱之水中，浮沉踰刻而沒。後年餘，生北歸，復經洞庭，大風覆舟。幸扳一竹簏，漂泊終夜，絓木而止。援岸方升，有浮尸繼至，則其僮僕。力引出之，已就斃矣。慘怛無聊，坐對憩息。但見小山聳翠，細柳搖青，行人絕少，無可問途。自遲明以及辰後，悵悵靡之。忽僮僕肢體微動，喜而捫之。無何，嘔水數斗，醒然頓蘇。相與曝衣石上，近午始燥可著。而枵腸轆轆，飢不可堪。於是越山疾行，冀有村落。纔至半山，聞鳴鏑聲。方疑聽所，有二女郎乘駿馬來，騁如撒菽。各以紅綃抹額，髻插雉尾；著小袖紫衣，腰束綠錦；一挾彈，一臂青鞲。度過嶺頭，則數十騎獵於榛莽，並皆姝麗，裝束若一。生不敢前。有男子步馳，似是馭卒，因就問之。答曰：「此西湖主獵首山也。」生述所來，且告之餒。馭卒解裹糧授之。囑云：「宜即遠避，犯駕當死！」生懼，疾趨下山。茂林中隱有殿閣，謂是蘭若。近臨之，粉垣圍沓，溪水橫流；朱門半啟，石橋通焉。攀扉一望，則臺榭環雲，擬於上苑，又疑是貴家園亭。逡巡而入，橫藤礙路，香花撲人。過數折曲欄，又是別一院宇，垂楊數十株，高拂朱簷。山鳥一鳴，則花片齊飛；深苑微風，則榆錢自落。怡目快心，殆非人世。穿過小亭，有鞦韆一架，上與雲齊；而罥索沉沉，杳無人蹟。因疑地近閨閣，恇怯未敢深入。俄聞馬騰於門，似有女子笑語。生與僮潛伏叢花中。未幾，笑聲漸近。聞一女子曰：「今日獵興不佳，獲禽絕少。」又一女曰：「非是公主射得雁落，幾空勞僕馬也。」無何，紅裝數輩，擁一女郎至亭上坐。禿袖戎裝，年可十四五。鬟多斂霧，腰細驚風，玉蕊瓊英未足方喻。諸女子獻茗熏香，燦如堆錦。移時，女起，歷階而下。一女曰：「公主鞍馬勞頓，尚能鞦韆否？」公主笑諾。遂有駕肩者，捉臂者，褰裙者，持履者，挽扶而上。公主舒皓腕，躡利屣，輕如飛燕，蹴入雲霄。已而扶下。群曰：「公主真仙人也！」嘻笑而去。生睨良久，神志飛揚。迨人聲既寂，出詣鞦韆下，徘徊凝想。見籬下有紅巾，知為群美所遺，喜內袖中。登其亭，見案上設有文具，遂題巾曰：「雅戲何人擬半仙？分明瓊女散金蓮。廣寒隊裏應相妒，莫信凌波上九天。」題已，吟誦而出。復尋故徑，則重門扃錮矣。踟躕罔計，返而樓閣亭臺，涉歷幾盡。一女掩入，驚問：「何得來此？」生揖之曰：「失路之人，幸能垂救。」女問：「拾得紅巾否？」生曰：「有之。然已玷染，如何？」因出之。女大驚曰：「汝死無所矣！此公主所常御，塗鴉若此，何能為地？」生失色，哀求脫免。女曰：「竊窺宮儀，罪已不赦。念汝儒冠蘊藉，欲以私意相全；今孽乃自作，將何為計！」遂皇皇持巾去。生心悸肌慄，恨無翅翎，惟延頸俟死。

　　迂久，女復來，潛賀曰：「子有生望矣！公主看巾三四遍，囅然無怒容，或當放君去。宜姑耐守，勿得攀樹鑽垣，發覺不宥矣。」日已投暮，凶祥不能自必；而餓燄中燒，憂煎欲死。無何，女子挑燈至。一婢提壺榼，出酒食餉生。生急問消息。女云：「適我乘間言：『園中秀才，可恕則放之；不然，餓且死。』公主沉思云：『深夜教渠何之？』遂命餽君食。此非惡耗也。」生徊徨終夜，危不自安。辰刻向盡，女子又餉之。生哀求緩頰。女曰：「公主不言殺，亦不言放。我輩下人，何敢屑屑瀆告？」既而斜日西轉，眺望方殷，女子坌息急奔而入，曰：「殆矣！多言者洩其事於王妃；妃展巾抵地，大罵狂傖，禍不遠矣！」生大驚，面如灰土，長跽請教。忽聞人語紛挐，女搖手避去。數人持索，洶洶入戶。內一婢熟視曰：「將謂何人，陳郎耶？」遂止持索者，曰：「且勿且勿，待白王妃來。」返身急去。少間來，曰：「王妃請陳郎入。」生戰惕從之。經數十門戶，至一宮殿，碧箔銀鉤。即有美姬揭簾，唱：「陳郎至。」上一麗者，袍服炫冶。生伏地稽首，曰：「萬里孤臣，幸恕生命。」妃急起，自曳之曰：「我非君子，無以有今日。婢輩無知，致迕佳客，罪何可贖！」即設華筵，酌以鏤杯。生茫然不解其故。妃曰：「再造之恩，恨無所報。息女蒙題巾之愛，當是天緣，今夕即遣奉侍。」生意出非望，神惝恍而無著。日方暮，一婢前曰：「公主已嚴妝訖。」遂引生就帳。忽而笙管敖曹；階上悉踐花罽；門堂藩溷，處處皆籠燭。數十妖姬，扶公主交拜。麝蘭之氣，充溢殿庭。既而相將入幃，兩相傾愛。生曰：「羈旅之臣，生平不省拜侍。點污芳巾，得免斧鑕，幸矣；反賜姻好，實非所望。」公主曰：「妾母，湖君妃子，乃揚江王女。舊歲歸寧，偶游湖上，為流矢所中。蒙君脫免，又賜刀圭之藥，一門戴佩，常不去心。郎勿以非類見疑。妾從龍君得長生訣，願與郎共之。」生乃悟為神人。因問：「婢子何以相識？」曰：「爾日洞庭舟上，曾有小魚啣尾，即此婢也。」又問：「既不見誅，何遲遲不賜縱脫？」笑曰：「實憐君才，但不自主。顛倒終夜，他人不及知也。」生歎曰：「卿，我鮑叔也。餽食者誰？」曰：「阿念，亦妾腹心。」生曰：「何以報德？」笑曰：「侍君有日，徐圖塞責未晚耳。」問：「大王何在？」曰：「從關聖征蚩尤未歸。」居數日，生慮家中無耗，懸念綦切，乃先以平安書遣僕歸。家中聞洞庭舟覆，妻子縗絰已年餘矣。僕歸，始知不死；而音問梗塞，終恐漂泊難返。又半載，生忽至，裘馬甚都，囊中寶玉充盈。由此富有巨萬，聲色豪奢，世家所不能及。七八年間，生子五人。日日宴集賓客，宮室飲饌之奉，窮極豐盛。或問所遇，言之無少諱。有童稚之交梁子俊者，宦游南服十餘年。歸過洞庭，見一畫舫，雕檻朱窗，笙歌幽細，緩蕩煙波。時有美人推窗凭跳。梁目注舫中，見一少年丈夫，科頭疊股其上；傍有二八姝麗，挼莎交摩。念必楚襄貴官，而騶從殊少。凝眸審諦，則陳明允也。不覺憑欄酣叫。生聞呼罷棹，出臨鷁首，邀梁過舟。見殘肴滿案，酒霧猶濃。生立命撤去。頃之，美婢三五，進酒烹茗，山海珍錯，目所未睹。梁驚曰：「十年不見，何富貴一至於此！」笑曰：「君小覷窮措大不能發跡耶？」問：「適共飲何人？」曰：「山荊耳。」梁又異之。問：「攜家何往？」答：「將西渡。」梁欲再詰，生遽命歌以侑酒。一言甫畢，旱雷聒耳，肉竹嘈雜，不復可聞言笑。梁見佳麗滿前，乘醉大言曰：「明允公，能令我真箇銷魂否？」生笑云：「足下醉矣！然有一美妾之貲，可贈故人。」遂命侍兒進明珠一顆，曰：「綠珠不難購，明我非吝惜。」乃趣別曰：「小事忙迫，不及與故人久聚。」送梁歸舟，開纜逕去。梁歸，探諸其家，則生方與客飲，益疑。因問：「昨在洞庭，何歸之速？」答曰：「無之。」梁乃追述所見，一座盡駭。生笑曰：「君誤矣，僕豈有分身術耶？」眾異之，而究莫解其故。後八十一歲而終。迨殯，訝其棺輕；開之，則空棺耳。

　　異史氏曰：「竹簏不沉，紅巾題句，此其中具有鬼神；而要皆惻隱之一念所通也。迨宮室妻妾，一身而兩享其奉，即又不可解矣。昔有願嬌妻美妾，貴子賢孫，而兼長生不死者，僅得其半耳。豈仙人中亦有汾陽、季倫耶？」

LXX. THE PRINCESS LILY.

AT Chiaochou there lived a man named Tou Hsün, otherwise known as Hsiaohui. One day he had just dropped off to sleep when he beheld a man in serge clothes standing by the bedside, and apparently anxious to communicate something to him. Tou inquired his errand; to which the man replied that he was the bearer of an invitation from his master. “And who is your master?” asked Tou. “Oh, he doesn’t live far off,” replied the other; so away they went together, and after some time came to a place where there were innumerable white houses rising one above the other, and shaded by dense groves of lemon trees. They threaded their way past countless doors, not at all similar to those usually used, and saw a great many official looking men and women passing and repassing, each of whom called out to the man in serge, “Has Mr. Tou come?” to which he always replied in the affirmative. Here a mandarin met them and escorted Tou into a palace, upon which the latter remarked, “This is really very kind of you; but I haven’t the honour of knowing you, and I feel somewhat diffident about going in.” “Our Prince,” answered his guide, “has long heard of you as a man of good family and excellent principles, and is very anxious to make your acquaintance.” “Who is your Prince?” inquired Tou. “You’ll see for yourself in a moment,” said the other; and just then out came two girls with banners, and guided Tou through a great number of doors until they came to a throne, upon which sat the Prince. His Highness immediately descended to meet him, and made him take the seat of honour; after which ceremony exquisite viands of all kinds were spread out before them. Looking up, Tou noticed a scroll, on which was inscribed, The Cassia Court, and he was just beginning to feel puzzled as to what he should say next, when the Prince addressed him as follows:—“The honour of having you for a neighbour is, as it were, a bond of affinity between us. Let us, then, give ourselves up to enjoyment, and put away suspicion and fear.” Tou murmured his acquiescence; and when the wine had gone round several times there arose from a distance the sound of pipes and singing, unaccompanied, however, by the usual drum, and very much subdued in volume. Thereupon the Prince looked about him and cried out, “We are about to set a verse for any of you gentlemen to cap; here you are:—‘Genius seeks the Cassia Court.’” While the courtiers were all engaged in thinking of some fit antithesis, Tou added, “Refinement loves the Lily flower;” upon which the Prince exclaimed, “How strange! Lily is my daughter’s name; and, after such a coincidence, she must come in for you to see her.” In a few moments the tinkling of her ornaments and a delicious fragrance of musk announced the arrival of the Princess, who was between sixteen and seventeen and endowed with surpassing beauty. The Prince bade her make an obeisance to Tou, at the same time introducing her as his daughter Lily; and as soon as the ceremony was over the young lady moved away. Tou remained in a state of stupefaction, and, when the Prince proposed that they should pledge each other in another bumper, paid not the slightest attention to what he said. Then the Prince, perceiving what had distracted his guest’s attention, remarked that he was anxious to find a consort for his daughter, but that unfortunately there was the difficulty of species, and he didn’t know what to do; but again Tou took no notice of what the Prince was saying, until at length one of the bystanders plucked his sleeve, and asked him if he hadn’t seen that the Prince wished to drink with him, and had just been addressing some remarks to him. Thereupon Tou started, and, recovering himself at once, rose from the table and apologized to the Prince for his rudeness, declaring that he had taken so much wine he didn’t know what he was doing. “Besides,” said he, “your Highness has doubtless business to transact; I will therefore take my leave.” “I am extremely pleased to have seen you,” replied the Prince, “and only regret that you are in such a hurry to be gone. However, I won’t detain you now; but, if you don’t forget all about us, I shall be very glad to invite you here again.” He then gave orders that Tou should be escorted home; and on the way one of the courtiers asked the latter why he had said nothing when the Prince had spoken of a consort for his daughter, as his Highness had evidently made the remark with an eye to securing Tou as his soninlaw. The latter was now sorry that he had missed his opportunity; meanwhile they reached his house, and he himself awoke. The sun had already set, and there he sat in the gloom thinking of what had happened. In the evening he put out his candle, hoping to continue his dream; but, alas! the thread was broken, and all he could do was to pour forth his repentance in sighs. One night he was sleeping at a friend’s house when suddenly an officer of the court walked in and summoned him to appear before the Prince; so up he jumped, and hurried off at once to the palace, where he prostrated himself before the throne. The Prince raised him and made him sit down, saying that since they had last met he had become aware that Tou would be willing to marry his daughter, and hoped that he might be allowed to offer her as a handmaid. Tou rose and thanked the Prince, who thereupon gave orders for a banquet to be prepared; and when they had finished their wine it was announced that the Princess had completed her toilet. Immediately a bevy of young ladies came in with the Princess in their midst, a red veil covering her head, and her tiny footsteps sounding like rippling water as they led her up to be introduced to Tou. When the ceremonies were concluded, Tou said to the Princess, “In your presence, Madam, it would be easy to forget even death itself; but, tell me, is not this all a dream?” “And how can it be a dream,” asked the Princess, “when you and I are here together?”

Next morning Tou amused himself by helping the Princess to paint her face, and then, seizing a girdle, began to measure the size of her waist and the length of her fingers and feet. “Are you crazy?” cried she, laughing; to which Tou replied, “I have been deceived so often by dreams, that I am now making a careful record. If such it turns out to be, I shall still have something as a souvenir of you.” While they were thus chatting a maid rushed into the room, shrieking out, “Alas, alas! a great monster has got into the palace: the Prince has fled into a side chamber: destruction is surely come upon us.” Tou was in a great fright when he heard this, and rushed off to see the Prince, who grasped his hand and, with tears in his eyes, begged him not to desert them. “Our relationship,” cried he, “was cemented when Heaven sent this calamity upon us; and now my kingdom will be overthrown. What shall I do?” Tou begged to know what was the matter; and then the Prince laid a despatch upon the table, telling Tou to open it and make himself acquainted with its contents. This despatch ran as follows:—“The Grand Secretary of State, Black Wings, to His Royal Highness, announcing the arrival of an extraordinary monster, and advising the immediate removal of the Court in order to preserve the vitality of the empire. A report has just been received from the officer in charge of the Yellow Gate stating that, ever since the 6th of the 5th moon, a huge monster, 10,000 feet in length, has been lying coiled up outside the entrance to the palace, and that it has already devoured 13,800 and odd of your Highness’s subjects, and is spreading desolation far and wide. On receipt of this information your servant proceeded to make a reconnaissance, and there beheld a venomous reptile with a head as big as a mountain and eyes like vast sheets of water. Every time it raised its head, whole buildings disappeared down its throat; and, on stretching itself out, walls and houses were alike laid in ruins. In all antiquity there is no record of such a scourge. The fate of our temples and ancestral halls is now a mere question of hours; we therefore pray your Royal Highness to depart at once with the Royal Family and seek somewhere else a happier abode.” When Tou had read this document his face turned ashy pale; and just then a messenger rushed in, shrieking out, “Here is the monster!” at which the whole Court burst into lamentations as if their last hour was at hand. The Prince was beside himself with fear; all he could do was to beg Tou to look to his own safety without regarding the wife through whom he was involved in their misfortunes. The Princess, however, who was standing by bitterly lamenting the fate that had fallen upon them, begged Tou not to desert her; and, after a moment’s hesitation, he said he should be only too happy to place his own poor home at their immediate disposal if they would only deign to honour him. “How can we talk of deigning,” cried the Princess, “at such a moment as this? I pray you take us there as quickly as possible.” So Tou gave her his arm, and in no time they had arrived at Tou’s house, which the Princess at once pronounced to be a charming place of residence, and better even than their former kingdom. “But I must now ask you,” said she to Tou, “to make some arrangement for my father and mother, that the old order of things may be continued here.” Tou at first offered objections to this; whereupon the Princess said that a man who would not help another in his hour of need was not much of a man, and immediately went off into a fit of hysterics, from which Tou was trying his best to recall her, when all of a sudden he awoke and found that it was all a dream. However, he still heard a buzzing in his ears which he knew was not made by any human being, and, on looking carefully about he discovered two or three bees which had settled on his pillow. He was very much astonished at this, and consulted with his friend, who was also greatly amazed at his strange story; and then the latter pointed out a number of other bees on various parts of his dress, none of which would go away even when brushed off. His friend now advised him to get a hive for them, which he did without delay; and immediately it was filled by a whole swarm of bees, which came flying from over the wall in great numbers. On tracing whence they had come, it was found that they belonged to an old gentleman who lived near, and who had kept bees for more than thirty years previously. Tou thereupon went and told him the story; and when the old gentleman examined his hive he found the bees all gone. On breaking it open he discovered a large snake inside of about ten feet in length, which he immediately killed, recognising in it the “huge monster” of Tou’s adventure. As for the bees, they remained with Tou, and increased in numbers every year.

蓮花公主

　　膠州竇旭，字曉暉。方晝寢，見一褐衣人立榻前，逡巡惶顧，似欲有言。生問之。答云：「相公奉屈。」「相公何人？」曰：「近在鄰境。」從之而出。轉過牆屋，導至一處，疊閣重樓，萬椽相接，曲折而行。覺萬戶千門，迥非人世。又見宮人女官，往來甚夥，都向褐衣人問曰：「竇郎來乎？」褐衣人諾。俄，一貴官出，迎見甚恭。既登堂，生啟問曰：「素既不敘，遂疏參謁。過蒙愛接，頗注疑念。」貴官曰：「寡君以先生清族世德，傾風結慕，深願思晤焉。」生益駭，問：「王何人？」答云：「少間自悉。」無何，二女官至，以雙旌導生行。入重門，見殿上一王者，見生入，降階而迎，執賓主禮。禮已，踐席，列筵豐盛。仰視殿上一扁曰「桂府」。生跼蹙不能致辭。王曰：「忝近芳鄰，緣即至深。便當暢懷，勿致疑畏。」生唯唯。酒數行，笙歌作於下，鉦鼓不鳴，音聲幽細。稍間，王忽左右顧曰：「朕一言，煩卿等屬對：『才人登桂府。』」四座方思，生即應云：「君子愛蓮花。」王大悅曰：「奇哉！蓮花乃公主小字，何適合如此？寧非夙分？傳語公主，不可不出一晤君子。」移時，珮環聲近，蘭麝香濃，則公主至矣。年十六七，妙好無雙。王命向生展拜，曰：「此即蓮花小女也。」拜已而去。生睹之，神情搖動，木坐凝思。王舉觴勸飲，目竟罔睹。王似微察其意，乃曰：「息女宜相匹敵，但自慚不類，如何？」生悵然若癡，即又不聞。近坐者躡之曰：「王揖君未見，王言君未聞耶？」生茫乎若失，㦬自慚，離席曰：「臣蒙優渥，不覺過醉，儀節失次，幸能垂宥。然日旰君勤，即告出也。」王起曰：「既見君子，實愜心好，何倉卒而便言離也？卿既不住，亦無敢於強。若煩縈念，更當再邀。」遂命內官導之出。途中內官語生曰：「適王謂可匹敵，似欲附為婚姻，何默不一言？」生頓足而悔，步步追恨，遂已至家。忽然醒寤，則返照已殘。冥坐觀想，歷歷在目。晚齋滅燭，冀舊夢可以復尋，而邯鄲路渺，悔歎而已。一夕，與友人共榻，忽見前內官來，傳王命相召。生喜，從去。見王伏謁。王曳起，延止隅坐，曰：「別後知勞思眷。謬以小女子奉裳衣，想不過嫌也。」生即拜謝。王命學士大臣，陪侍宴飲。酒闌，宮人前白：「公主妝竟。」俄見數十宮女，擁公主出。以紅錦覆首，凌波微步，挽上氍毹，與生交拜成禮。已而送歸館舍。洞房溫清，窮極芳膩。生曰：「有卿在目，真使人樂而忘死。但恐今日之遭，乃是夢耳。」公主掩口曰：「明明妾與君，那得是夢？」詰旦方起，戲為公主勻鉛黃；已而以帶圍腰，布指度足。公主笑問曰：「君顛耶？」曰：「臣屢為夢誤，故細志之。倘是夢時，亦足動懸想耳。」調笑未已，一宮女馳入曰：「妖入宮門，王避偏殿，凶禍不遠矣！」生大驚，趨見王。王執手泣曰：「君子不棄，方圖永好。詎期孽降自天，國祚將覆，且復奈何！」生驚問何說。王以案上一章，授生啟讀。章云：「含香殿大學士臣黑翼，為非常妖異，祈早遷都，以存國脈事：據黃門報稱：自五月初六日，來一千丈巨蟒，盤踞宮外，吞食內外臣民一萬三千八百餘口；所過宮殿盡成丘墟，等因。臣奮勇前窺，確見妖蟒：頭如山岳，目等江海；昂首則殿閣齊吞，伸腰則樓垣盡覆。真千古未見之凶，萬代不遭之禍！社稷宗廟，危在旦夕！乞皇上早率宮眷，速遷樂土」云云。生覽畢，面如灰土。即有宮人奔奏：「妖物至矣！」闔殿哀呼，慘無天日。王倉遽不知所為，但泣顧曰：「小女已累先生。」生坌息而返。公主方與左右抱首哀鳴，見生入，牽衿曰：「郎焉置妾？」生愴惻欲絕，乃捉腕思曰：「小生貧賤，慚無金屋。有茅廬三數間，姑同竄匿可乎？」公主含涕曰：「急何能擇？乞攜速往！」生乃挽扶而出。未幾，至家。公主曰：「此大安宅，勝故國多矣。然妾從君來，父母何依？請別築一舍，當舉國相從。」生難之。公主號咷曰：「不能急人之急，安用郎也！」生略慰解，即已入室。公主伏床悲啼，不可勸止。焦思無術，頓然而醒，始知夢也。而耳畔啼聲，嚶嚶未絕。審聽之，殊非人聲，乃蜂子二三頭，飛鳴枕上。大叫怪事。友人詰之，乃以夢告。友人亦詫為異。共起視蜂，依依裳袂間，拂之不去。友人勸為營巢。生如所請，督工構造。方豎兩堵，而群蜂自牆外來，絡繹如蠅。頂尖未合，飛集盈斗。跡所由來，則鄰翁之舊圃也。圃中蜂一房，三十餘年矣，生息頗繁。或以生事告翁。翁覘之，蜂戶寂然。發其壁，則蛇據其中，長丈許。捉而殺之。乃知巨蟒即此物也。蜂入生家，滋息更盛，亦無他異。

LXXI. THE DONKEY’S REVENGE.

CHUNG CH‘INGYÜ was a scholar of some reputation, who lived in Manchuria. When he went up for his master’s degree, he heard that there was a Taoist priest at the capital who would tell people’s fortunes, and was very anxious to see him; and at the conclusion of the second part of the examination, he accidentally met him at Pao-t‘u-ch‘üan. The priest was over sixty years of age, and had the usual white beard, flowing down over his breast. Around him stood a perfect wall of people inquiring their future fortunes, and to each the old man made a brief reply: but when he saw Chung among the crowd, he was overjoyed, and, seizing him by the hand, said, “Sir, your virtuous intentions command my esteem.” He then led him up behind a screen, and asked if he did not wish to know what was to come; and when Chung replied in the affirmative, the priest informed him that his prospects were bad. “You may succeed in passing this examination,” continued he, “but on returning covered with honour to your home, I fear that your mother will be no longer there.” Now Chung was a very filial son; and as soon as he heard these words, his tears began to flow, and he declared that he would go back without competing any further. The priest observed that if he let this chance slip, he could never hope for success; to which Chung replied that, on the other hand, if his mother were to die he could never hope to have her back again, and that even the rank of Viceroy would not repay him for her loss. “Well,” said the priest, “you and I were connected in a former existence, and I must do my best to help you now.” So he took out a pill which he gave to Chung, and told him that if he sent it post-haste by some one to his mother, it would prolong her life for seven days, and thus he would be able to see her once again after the examination was over. Chung took the pill, and went off in very low spirits; but he soon reflected that the span of human life is a matter of destiny, and that every day he could spend at home would be one more day devoted to the service of his mother. Accordingly, he got ready to start at once, and, hiring a donkey, actually set out on his way back. When he had gone about half-a-mile, the donkey turned round and ran home; and when he used his whip, the animal threw itself down on the ground. Chung got into a great perspiration, and his servant recommended him to remain where he was; but this he would not hear of, and hired another donkey, which served him exactly the same trick as the other one. The sun was now sinking behind the hills, and his servant advised his master to stay and finish his examination while he himself went back home before him. Chung had no alternative but to assent, and the next day he hurried through with his papers, starting immediately afterwards, and not stopping at all on the way either to eat or to sleep. All night long he went on, and arrived to find his mother in a very critical state; however, when he gave her the pill she so far recovered that he was able to go in and see her. Grasping his hand, she begged him not to weep, telling him that she had just dreamt she had been down to the Infernal Regions, where the King of Hell had informed her with a gracious smile that her record was fairly clean, and that in view of the filial piety of her son she was to have twelve years more of life. Chung was rejoiced at this, and his mother was soon restored to her former health.

Before long the news arrived that Chung had passed his examination; upon which he bade adieu to his mother, and went off to the capital, where he bribed the eunuchs of the palace to communicate with his friend the Taoist priest. The latter was very much pleased, and came out to see him, whereupon Chung prostrated himself at his feet. “Ah,” said the priest, “this success of yours, and the prolongation of your good mother’s life, is all a reward for your virtuous conduct. What have I done in the matter?” Chung was very much astonished that the priest should already know what had happened; however, he now inquired as to his own future. “You will never rise to high rank,” replied the priest, “but you will attain the years of an octogenarian. In a former state of existence you and I were once travelling together, when you threw a stone at a dog, and accidentally killed a frog. Now that frog has reappeared in life as a donkey, and according to all principles of destiny you ought to suffer for what you did; but your filial piety has touched the Gods, a protecting star-influence has passed into your nativity sheet, and you will come to no harm. On the other hand, there is your wife; in her former state she was not as virtuous as she might have been, and her punishment in this life was to be widowed quite young; you, however, have secured the prolongation of your own term of years, and therefore I fear that before long your wife will pay the penalty of death.” Chung was much grieved at hearing this; but after a while he asked the priest where his second wife to be was living. “At Chungchou,” replied the latter; “she is now fourteen years old.” The priest then bade him adieu, telling him that if any mischance should befall him he was to hurry off towards the southeast. About a year after this, Chung’s wife did die; and his mother then desiring him to go and visit his uncle, who was a magistrate in Kiangsi, on which journey he would have to pass through Chungchou, it seemed like a fulfilment of the old priest’s prophecy. As he went along, he came to a village on the banks of a river, where a large crowd of people was gathered together round a theatrical performance which was going on there. Chung would have passed quietly by, had not a stray donkey followed so close behind him that he turned round and hit it over the ears. This startled the donkey so much that it ran off full gallop, and knocked a rich gentleman’s child, who was sitting with its nurse on the bank, right into the water, before any one of the servants could lend a hand to save it. Immediately there was a great outcry against Chung, who gave his mule the rein and dashed away, mindful of the priest’s warning, towards the southeast. After riding about seven miles, he reached a mountain village, where he saw an old man standing at the door of a house, and, jumping off his mule, made him a low bow. The old man asked him in, and inquired his name and whence he came; to which Chung replied by telling him the whole adventure. “Never fear,” said the old man; “you can stay here, while I send out to learn the position of affairs.” By the evening his messenger had returned, and then they knew for the first time that the child belonged to a wealthy family. The old man looked grave and said, “Had it been anybody else’s child, I might have helped you; as it is I can do nothing.” Chung was greatly alarmed at this; however, the old man told him to remain quietly there for the night, and see what turn matters might take. Chung was overwhelmed with anxiety, and did not sleep a wink; and next morning he heard that the constables were after him, and that it was death to any one who should conceal him. The old man changed countenance at this, and went inside, leaving Chung to his own reflections; but towards the middle of the night he came and knocked at Chung’s door, and, sitting down, began to ask how old his wife was. Chung replied that he was a widower; at which the old man seemed rather pleased, and declared that in such case help would be forthcoming; “for,” said he, “my sister’s husband has taken the vows and become a priest, and my sister herself has died, leaving an orphan girl who has now no home; and if you would only marry her....” Chung was delighted, more especially as this would be both the fulfilment of the Taoist priest’s prophecy, and a means of extricating himself from his present difficulty; at the same time, he declared he should be sorry to implicate his future father-in-law. “Never fear about that,” replied the old man; “my sister’s husband is pretty skilful in the black art. He has not mixed much with the world of late; but when you are married, you can discuss the matter with my niece.” So Chung married the young lady, who was sixteen years of age, and very beautiful; but whenever he looked at her he took occasion to sigh. At last she said, “I may be ugly; but you needn’t be in such a hurry to let me know it;” whereupon Chung begged her pardon, and said he felt himself only too lucky to have met with such a divine creature; adding that he sighed because he feared some misfortune was coming on them which would separate them for ever. He then told her his story, and the young lady was very angry that she should have been drawn into such a difficulty without a word of warning. Chung fell on his knees, and said he had already consulted with her uncle, who was unable himself to do anything, much as he wished it. He continued that he was aware of her power; and then, pointing out that his alliance was not altogether beneath her, made all kinds of promises if she would only help him out of this trouble. The young lady was no longer able to refuse, but informed him that to apply to her father would entail certain disagreeable consequences, as he had retired from the world, and did not any more recognise her as his daughter. That night they did not attempt to sleep, spending the interval in padding their knees with thick felt concealed beneath their clothes; and then they got into chairs and were carried off to the hills. After journeying some distance, they were compelled by the nature of the road to alight and walk; and it was only by a great effort that Chung succeeded at last in getting his wife to the top. At the door of the temple they sat down to rest, the powder and paint on the young lady’s face having all mixed with the perspiration trickling down; but when Chung began to apologize for bringing her to this pass, she replied that it was a mere trifle compared with what was to come. By-and-by, they went inside; and threading their way to the wall beyond, found the young lady’s father sitting in contemplation, his eyes closed, and a servant boy standing by with a chowry. Everything was beautifully clean and nice, but before the dais were sharp stones scattered about as thick as the stars in the sky. The young lady did not venture to select a favourable spot; she fell on her knees at once, and Chung did likewise behind her. Then her father opened his eyes, shutting them again almost instantaneously; whereupon the young lady said, “For a long time I have not paid my respects to you. I am now married, and I have brought my husband to see you.” A long time passed away, and then her father opened his eyes and said, “You’re giving a great deal of trouble,” immediately relapsing into silence again. There the husband and wife remained until the stones seemed to pierce into their very bones; but after a while the father cried out, “Have you brought the donkey?” His daughter replied that they had not; whereupon they were told to go and fetch it at once, which they did, not knowing what the meaning of this order was. After a few more days’ kneeling, they suddenly heard that the murderer of the child had been caught and beheaded, and were just congratulating each other on the success of their scheme, when a servant came in with a stick in his hand, the top of which had been chopped off. “This stick,” said the servant, “died instead of you. Bury it reverently, that the wrong done to the tree may be somewhat atoned for.” Then Chung saw that at the place where the top of the stick had been chopped off there were traces of blood; he therefore buried it with the usual ceremony, and immediately set off with his wife, and returned to his own home.

鐘生

　　鐘慶餘，遼東名士。應濟南鄉試。聞藩邸有道士，知人休咎，心向往之。二場後，至趵突泉，適相值。年六十餘，鬚長過胸，一皤然道人也。集問災祥者如堵，道士悉以微詞授之。於眾中見生，忻然握手，曰：「君心術德行，可敬也！」挽登閣上，屏人語，因問：「莫欲知將來否？」曰：「然。」曰：「子福命至薄，然今科鄉舉可望。但榮歸後，恐不復見尊堂矣。」生至孝，聞之泣下，遂欲不試而歸。道士曰：「若過此已往，一榜亦不可得矣。」生云：「母死不見，且不可復為人，貴為卿相，何加焉？」道士曰：「某夙世與君有緣，今日必合盡力。」乃以一丸授之曰：「可遣人夙夜將去，服之可延七日。場畢而行，母子猶及見也。」生藏之，匆匆而出，神志喪失。因計終天有期，早歸一日，則多得一日之奉養，攜僕貰驢，即刻東邁。驅里許，驢忽返奔，下之不馴，控之則蹶。生無計，躁汗如雨。僕勸止之，生不聽。又貰他驢，亦如之。日已啣山，莫知為計。僕又勸曰：「明日即完場矣，何爭此一朝夕乎？請即先主而行，計亦良得。」不得已，從之。次日，草草竣事，立時遂發，不遑啜息，星馳而歸。則母病綿惙，下丹藥，漸就痊可。入視之，就榻泫泣。母搖首止之，執手喜曰：「適夢之陰司，見王者顏色和霽。謂稽爾生平，無大罪惡；今念汝子純孝，賜壽一紀。」生亦喜。歷數日，果平健如故。未幾，聞捷，辭母如濟。因賂內監，致意道士。道士欣然出，生便伏謁。道士曰：「君既高捷，太夫人又增壽數，此皆盛德所致。道人何力焉！」生又訝其先知，因而拜問終身。道士云：「君無大貴，但得耄耋足矣。君前身與我為僧侶，以石投犬，誤斃一蛙，今已投生為驢。論前定數，君當橫折；今孝德感神，已有解星入命，固當無恙。但夫人前世為婦不貞，數應少寡。今君以德延壽，非其所耦，恐歲後瑤臺傾也。」生惻然良久，問繼室所在。曰：「在中州，今十四歲矣。」臨別囑曰：「倘遇危急，宜奔東南。」後年餘，妻病果死。鐘舅令於西江，母遣往省，以便途過中州，將應繼室之讖。偶適一村。值臨河優戲，士女甚雜。方欲整轡趨過，有一失勒牡驢，隨之而行，致騾蹄趹。生回首，以鞭擊驢耳；驢驚，大奔。時有王世子方六七歲，乳媼抱坐隄上；驢沖過，扈從皆不及防，擠墮河中。眾大譁，欲執之。生縱騾絕馳。頓憶道士言，極力趨東南。約二十餘里，入一山村，有叟在門，下騎揖之。叟邀入，自言「方姓」，便詰所來。生叩伏在地，具以情告，叟言：「不妨。請即寄居此間，當使徼者去。」至晚得耗，始知為世子，叟大駭曰：「他家可以為力，此真愛莫能助矣！」生哀不已。叟籌思曰：「不可為也。請過一宵，聽其緩急，倘可再謀。」生愁怖，終夜不枕。次日偵聽，則已行牒譏察，收藏者棄市。叟有難色，無言而入。生疑懼，無以自安。中夜，叟來，入坐，便問：「夫人年幾何矣？」生以鰥對。叟喜曰：「吾謀濟矣。」問之，答云：「余姊夫慕道，挂錫南山；姊又謝世。遺有孤女，從僕鞠養，亦頗慧。以奉箕帚如何？」生喜符道士之言，而又冀親戚密邇，可以得其周謀，曰：「小生誠幸矣。但遠方罪人，深恐貽累丈人。」叟曰：「此為君謀也。姊夫道術頗神，但久不與人事矣。合巹後，自與甥女籌之，必合有計。」生喜極，贅焉。女十六歲，豔絕無雙。生每對之欷歔。女云：「妾即陋，何遂遽見嫌惡？」生謝曰：「娘子仙人，相耦為幸。但有禍患，恐致乖違。」因以實告。女怨曰：「舅乃非人！此彌天之禍，不可為謀，乃不明言，而陷我於坎窞！」生長跪曰：「是小生以死命哀舅，舅慈悲而窮於術，知卿能生死人而肉白骨也。某誠不足稱好逑，然家門幸不辱寞。倘得再生，香花供養有日耳。」女歎曰：「事已至此，夫復何辭？然父自削髮招提，兒女之愛已絕。無已，同往哀之，恐擔挫辱不淺也。」乃一夜不寐，以氈綿厚作蔽膝，各以隱著衣底；然後喚肩輿，入南山十餘里。山徑拗折絕險，不復可乘。下輿，女跬步甚艱，生挽臂拽扶之，竭蹶始得上達。不遠，即見山門，共坐少憩。女喘汗淫淫，粉黛交下。生見之，情不可忍，曰：「為某故，遂使卿罹此苦！」女愀然曰：「恐此尚未是苦！」困少蘇，相將入蘭若，禮佛而進。曲折入禪堂，見老僧趺坐，目若瞑，一僮執拂侍之。方丈中，掃除光潔；而坐前悉布沙礫，密如星宿。女不敢擇，入跪其上；生亦從諸其後。僧開目一瞻，即復合去。女參曰：「久不定省，今女已嫁，故偕婿來。」僧久之，啟視曰：「妮子大累人！」即不復言。夫妻跪良久，筋力俱殆，沙石將壓入骨，痛不可支。又移時，乃言曰：「將騾來未？」女答曰：「未。」曰：「夫妻即去，可速將來。」二人拜而起，狼狽而行。既歸，如命，不解其意，但伏聽之。過數日，相傳罪人已得，伏誅訖。夫妻相慶。無何，山中遣僮來，以斷杖付生云：「代死者，此君也。」便囑瘞葬致祭，以解竹木之冤。生視之，斷處有血痕焉。乃祝而葬之。夫妻不敢久居，星夜歸遼陽。

LXXII. THE WOLF DREAM.

MR. PAI was a native of Chili, and his eldest son was called Chia. The latter had been some two years holding an appointment as magistrate in the south; but because of the great distance between them, his family had heard nothing of him. One day a distant connection, named Ting, called at the house; and Mr. Pai, not having seen this gentleman for a long time, treated him with much cordiality. Now Ting was one of those persons who are occasionally employed by the Judge of the Infernal Regions to make arrests on earth; and, as they were chatting together, Mr. Pai questioned him about the realms below. Ting told him all kinds of strange things, but Pai did not believe them, answering only by a smile. Some days afterwards, he had just lain down to sleep when Ting walked in and asked him to go for a stroll; so they went off together, and by-and-by reached the city. “There,” said Ting, pointing to a door, “lives your nephew,” alluding to a son of Mr. Pai’s elder sister, who was a magistrate in Honan; and when Pai expressed his doubts as to the accuracy of this statement, Ting led him in, when, lo and behold! there was his nephew, sitting in his court dressed in his official robes. Around him stood the guard, and it was impossible to get near him; but Ting remarked that his son’s residence was not far off, and asked Pai if he would not like to see him too. The latter assenting, they walked along till they came to a large building, which Ting said was the place. However, there was a fierce wolf at the entrance, and Mr. Pai was afraid to go in. Ting bade him enter, and accordingly they walked in, when they found that all the employés of the place, some of whom were standing about and others lying down to sleep, were all wolves. The central pathway was piled up with whitening bones, and Mr. Pai began to feel horribly alarmed but Ting kept close to him all the time, and at length they got safely in. Pai’s son, Chia, was just coming out; and when he saw his father accompanied by Ting, he was overjoyed, and, asking them to sit down, bade the attendants serve some refreshment. Thereupon a great big wolf brought in in his mouth the carcase of a dead man, and set it before them, at which Mr. Pai rose up in consternation, and asked his son what this meant. “It’s only a little refreshment for you, father,” replied Chia; but this did not calm Mr. Pai’s agitation, who would have retired precipitately, had it not been for the crowd of wolves which barred the path. Just as he was at a loss what to do, there was a general stampede among the animals which scurried away, some under the couches and some under the tables and chairs; and while he was wondering what the cause of this could be, in marched two knights in golden armour, who looked sternly at Chia, and, producing a black rope, proceeded to bind him hand and foot. Chia fell down before them, and was changed into a tiger with horrid fangs; and then one of the knights drew a glittering sword and would have cut off its head, had not the other cried out, “Not yet! not yet! that is for the fourth month next year. Let us now only take out its teeth.” Immediately that knight produced a huge mallet, and, with a few blows, scattered the tiger’s teeth all over the floor, the tiger roaring so loudly with pain as to shake the very hills, and frightening all the wits out of Mr. Pai—who woke up with a start. He found he had been dreaming, and at once sent off to invite Ting to come and see him; but Ting sent back to say he must beg to be excused. Then Mr. Pai, pondering on what he had seen in his dream, despatched his second son with a letter to Chia, full of warnings and good advice; and lo! when his son arrived, he found that his elder brother had lost all his front teeth, these having been knocked out, as he averred, by a fall he had had from his horse when tipsy; and, on comparing dates, the day of that fall was found to coincide with the day of his father’s dream. The younger brother was greatly amazed at this, and took out their father’s letter, which he gave to Chia to read. The latter changed colour, but immediately asked his brother what there was to be astonished at in the coincidence of a dream. And just at that time he was busily engaged in bribing his superiors to put him first on the list for promotion, so that he soon forgot all about the circumstance; while the younger, observing what harpies Chia’s subordinates were, taking presents from one man and using their influence for another, in one unbroken stream of corruption, sought out his elder brother, and, with tears in his eyes, implored him to put some check upon their rapacity. “My brother,” replied Chia, “your life has been passed in an obscure village; you know nothing of our official routine. We are promoted or degraded at the will of our superiors, and not by the voice of the people. He, therefore, who gratifies his superiors is marked out for success; whereas he who consults the wishes of the people is unable to gratify his superiors as well.” Chia’s brother saw that his advice was thrown away; he accordingly returned home and told his father all that had taken place. The old man was much affected, but there was nothing that he could do in the matter, so he devoted himself to assisting the poor, and such acts of charity, daily praying the Gods that the wicked son alone might suffer for his crimes, and not entail misery on his innocent wife and children. The next year it was reported that Chia had been recommended for a post in the Board of Civil Office, and friends crowded the father’s door, offering their congratulations upon the happy event. But the old man sighed and took to his bed, pretending he was too unwell to receive visitors. Before long another message came, informing them that Chia had fallen in with bandits while on his way home, and that he and all his retinue had been killed. Then his father arose and said, “Verily the Gods are good unto me, for they have visited his sins upon himself alone;” and he immediately proceeded to burn incense and return thanks. Some of his friends would have persuaded him that the report was probably untrue; but the old man had no doubts as to its correctness, and made haste to get ready his son’s grave. But Chia was not yet dead. In the fatal fourth moon he had started on his journey and had fallen in with bandits, to whom he had offered all his money and valuables; upon which the latter cried out, “We have come to avenge the cruel wrongs of many hundreds of victims; do you imagine we want only that?” They then cut off his head, and the head of his wicked secretary, and the heads of several of his servants who had been foremost in carrying out his shameful orders, and were now accompanying him to the capital. They then divided the booty between them, and made off with all speed. Chia’s soul remained near his body for some time, until at length a high mandarin passing by asked who it was that was lying there dead. One of his servants replied that he had been a magistrate at such and such a place, and that his name was Pai. “What!” said the mandarin, “the son of old Mr. Pai? It is hard that his father should live to see such sorrow as this. Put his head on again.” Then a man stepped forward and placed Chia’s head upon his shoulders again, when the mandarin interrupted him, saying, “A crooked minded man should not have a straight body: put his head on sideways.” By-and-by Chia’s soul returned to its tenement; and when his wife and children arrived to take away the corpse, they found that he was still breathing. Carrying him home, they poured some nourishment down his throat, which he was able to swallow; but there he was at an out-of-the-way place, without the means of continuing his journey. It was some six months before his father heard the real state of the case, and then he sent off the second son to bring his brother home. Chia had indeed come to life again, but he was able to see down his own back, and was regarded ever afterwards more as a monstrosity than as a man. Subsequently the nephew, whom old Mr. Pai had seen sitting in state surrounded by officials, actually became an Imperial Censor, so that every detail of the dream was thus strangely realised.

夢狼

　　白翁，直隸人。長子甲，筮仕南服，三年無耗。適有瓜葛丁姓造謁，翁款之。丁素走無常。談次，翁輒問以冥事，丁對語涉幻；翁不深信，但微哂之。別後數日，翁方臥，見丁又來，邀與同遊。從之去，入一城闕。移時，丁指一門曰：「此間君家甥也。」時翁有姊子為晉令，訝曰：「烏在此？」丁曰：「倘不信，入便知之。」翁入，果見甥，蟬冠豸繡坐堂上，戟幢行列，無人可通。丁曳之出，曰：「公子衙署，去此不遠，亦願見之否？」翁諾。少間，至一第，丁曰：「入之。」窺其門，見一巨狼當道，大懼不敢進。丁又曰：「入之。」又入一門，見堂上、堂下，坐者、臥者，皆狼也。又視墀中，白骨如山，益懼。丁乃以身翼翁而進。公子甲方自內出，見父及丁良喜。少坐，喚侍者治肴蔌。忽一巨狼，啣死人入。翁戰惕而起曰：「此胡為者？」甲曰：「聊充庖廚。」翁急止之。心怔忡不寧，辭欲出，而群狼阻道。進退方無所主，忽見諸狼紛然嗥避，或竄床下，或伏几底。錯愕不解其故。俄有兩金甲猛士努目入，出黑索索甲。甲撲地化為虎，牙齒巉巉，一人出利劍，欲梟其首。一人曰：「且勿，且勿，此明年四月間事，不如姑敲齒去。」乃出巨錘錘齒，齒零落墮地。虎大吼，聲震山岳。翁大懼，忽醒，乃知其夢。心異之，遣人招丁，丁辭不至。翁誌其夢，使次子詣甲，函戒哀切。既至，見兄門齒盡脫；駭而問之，則醉中墜馬所折。考其時，則父夢之日也。益駭。出父書。甲讀之變色，為間曰：「此幻夢之適符耳，何足怪。」時方賂當路者，得首薦，故不以妖夢為意。弟居數日，見其蠹役滿堂，納賄關說者，中夜不絕，流涕諫止之。甲曰：「弟日居衡茅，故不知仕途之關竅耳。黜陟之權，在上臺不在百姓。上臺喜，便是好官；愛百姓，何術能令上臺喜也？」弟知不可勸止，遂歸。告父。翁聞之大哭。無可如何，惟捐家濟貧，日禱於神，但求逆子之報，不累妻孥。次年，報甲以薦舉作吏部，賀者盈門；翁惟欷歔，伏枕託疾不出。未幾，聞子歸途遇寇，主僕殞命。翁乃起，謂人曰：「鬼神之怒，止及其身，祐我家者不可謂不厚也。」因焚香而報謝之。慰藉翁者，咸以為道路訛傳，惟翁則深信不疑，刻日為之營兆。──而甲固未死。先是，四月間，甲解任，甫離境，即遭寇，甲傾裝以獻之。諸寇曰：「我等來，為一邑之民洩冤憤耳，寧耑為此哉！」遂決其首。又問家人：「有司大成者誰是？」──司故甲之腹心，助桀為虐者。──家人共指之。賊亦殺之。更有蠹役四人，──甲聚斂臣也，將攜入都。──并搜決訖，始分貲入囊，騖馳而去。甲魂伏道旁，見一宰官過，問：「殺者何人？」前驅者曰：「某縣白知縣也。」宰官曰：「此白某之子，不宜使老後見此兇慘，宜續其頭。」即有一人掇頭置腔上，曰：「邪人不宜使正，以肩承領可也。」遂去。移時復甦。妻子往收其尸，見有餘息，載之以行；從容灌之，亦受飲。但寄旅邸，貧不能歸。半年許，翁始得確耗，遣次子致之而歸。甲雖復生，而目能自顧其背，不復齒人數矣。翁姊子有政聲，是年行取為御史，悉符所夢。

　　異史氏曰：「竊歎天下之官虎而吏狼者，比比也。──即官不為虎，而吏且將為狼，況有猛於虎者耶！夫人患不能自顧其後耳；甦而使之自顧，鬼神之教微矣哉！」

　　鄒平李進士匡九，居官頗廉明。常有富民為人羅織，門役嚇之曰：「官索汝二百金，宜速辦；不然，敗矣！」富民懼，諾備半數。役搖手不可。富民苦哀之。役曰：「我無不極力，但恐不允耳。待聽鞫時，汝目睹我為若白之，其允與否，亦可明我意之無他也。」少間，公按是事。役知李戒煙，近問：「飲煙否？」李搖其首。役即趨下曰：「適言其數，官搖首不許，汝見之耶？」富民信之，懼，許如數。役知李嗜茶，近問：「飲茶否？」李頷之。役托烹茶，趨下曰：「諧矣！適首肯，汝見之耶？」既而審結，富民其獲免，役即收其苞苴，且索謝金。嗚呼！官自以為廉，而罵其貪者載道焉。此又縱狼而不自知者矣。世之如此類者更多，可為居官者備一鑒也。

 

LXXIII. THE UNJUST SENTENCE.

MR. CHU was a native of Yangku, and, as a young man, was much given to playing tricks and talking in a loose kind of way. Having lost his wife, he went off to ask a certain old woman to arrange another match for him; and on the way, he chanced to fall in with a neighbour’s wife who took his fancy very much. So he said in joke to the old woman, “Get me that stylish looking, handsome lady, and I shall be quite satisfied.” “I’ll see what I can do,” replied the old woman, also joking, “if you will manage to kill her present husband;” upon which Chu laughed and said he certainly would do so. Now about a month afterwards, the said husband, who had gone out to collect some money due to him, was actually killed in a lonely spot; and the magistrate of the district immediately summoned the neighbours and beadle and held the usual inquest, but was unable to find any clue to the murderer. However, the old woman told the story of her conversation with Chu, and suspicion at once fell upon him. The constables came and arrested him; but he stoutly denied the charge; and the magistrate now began to suspect the wife of the murdered man. Accordingly, she was severely beaten and tortured in several ways until her strength failed her, and she falsely acknowledged her guilt. Chu was then examined, and he said, “This delicate woman could not bear the agony of your tortures; what she has stated is untrue; and, even should her wrong escape the notice of the Gods, for her to die in this way with a stain upon her name is more than I can endure. I will tell the whole truth. I killed the husband that I might secure the wife: she knew nothing at all about it.” And when the magistrate asked for some proof, Chu said his bloody clothes would be evidence enough; but when they sent to search his house, no bloody clothes were forthcoming. He was then beaten till he fainted; yet when he came round he still stuck to what he had said. “It is my mother,” cried he, “who will not sign the death warrant of her son. Let me go myself and I will get the clothes.” So he was escorted by a guard to his home, and there he explained to his mother that whether she gave up or withheld the clothes, it was all the same; that in either case he would have to die, and it was better to die early than late. Thereupon his mother wept bitterly, and going into the bedroom, brought out, after a short delay, the required clothes, which were taken at once to the magistrate’s. There was now no doubt as to the truth of Chu’s story; and as nothing occurred to change the magistrate’s opinion, Chu was thrown into prison to await the day for his execution. Meanwhile, as the magistrate was one day inspecting his gaol, suddenly a man appeared in the hall, who glared at him fiercely and roared out, “Dull-headed fool! unfit to be the guardian of the people’s interests!”—whereupon the crowd of servants standing round rushed forward to seize him, but with one sweep of his arms he laid them all flat on the ground. The magistrate was frightened out of his wits, and tried to escape, but the man cried out to him, “I am one of Kuan Ti’s lieutenants. If you move an inch you are lost.” So the magistrate stood there, shaking from head to foot with fear, while his visitor continued, “The murderer is Kung Piao: Chu had nothing to do with it.”

The lieutenant then fell down on the ground, and was to all appearance lifeless; however, after a while he recovered, his face having quite changed, and when they asked him his name, lo! it was Kung Piao. Under the application of the bamboo he confessed his guilt. Always an unprincipled man, he had heard that the murdered man was going out to collect money, and thinking he would be sure to bring it back with him, he had killed him, but had found nothing. Then when he learnt that Chu had acknowledged the crime as his own doing, he had rejoiced in secret at such a stroke of luck. How he had got into the magistrate’s hall he was quite unable to say. The magistrate now called for some explanation of Chu’s bloody clothes, which Chu himself was unable to give; but his mother, who was at once sent for, stated that she had cut her own arm to stain them, and when they examined her they found on her left arm the scar of a recent wound. The magistrate was lost in amazement at all this; unfortunately for him the reversal of his sentence cost him his appointment, and he died in poverty, unable to find his way home. As for Chu, the widow of the murdered man married him in the following year, out of gratitude for his noble behaviour.

冤獄

　　朱生，陽穀人。少年佻達，喜詼謔。因喪偶，往求媒媼。遇其鄰人之妻，睨之美。戲謂媼曰：「適睹尊鄰，雅少麗，若為我求凰，渠可也。」媼亦戲曰：「請殺其男子，我為若圖之。」朱笑曰：「諾。」更月餘，鄰人出討負，被殺於野。邑令拘鄰保，血膚取實，究無端緒；惟媒媼述相謔之詞，以此疑朱。捕至，百口不承。令又疑鄰婦與私，搒掠之，五毒參至，婦不能堪，誣伏。又訊朱。朱曰：「細嫩不任苦刑，所言皆妄。既是冤死，而又加以不節之名，縱鬼神無知，予心何忍乎？我實供之可矣：欲殺夫而娶其婦，皆我之為，婦實不知之也。」問：「何憑？」答言：「血衣可證。」及使人搜諸其家，竟不可得。又掠之，死而復蘇者再。朱乃云：「此母不忍出證據死我耳，待自取之。」因押歸告母曰：「予我衣，死也；即不予，亦死也：均之死，故遲也不如其速也。」母泣，入室移時，取衣出，付之。令審其跡確，擬斬。再駁再審，無異詞。經年餘，決有日矣。令方慮囚，忽一人直上公堂，努目視令而大罵曰：「如此憒憒，何足臨民！」隸役數十輩，將共執之。其人振臂一揮，頹然並仆。令懼，欲逃，其人大言曰：「我關帝前周將軍也！昏官若動，即便誅卻！」令戰懼悚聽。其人曰：「殺人者乃宮標也，於朱某何與？」言已，倒地，氣若絕。少頃而醒，面無人色。及問其人，則宮標也。搒之，盡服其罪。蓋宮素不逞，知其討負而歸，意腰橐必富，及殺之，竟無所得。聞朱誣服，竊自幸。是日身入公門，殊不自知。令問朱血衣所自來，朱亦不知之。喚其母鞫之，則割臂所染；驗其左臂，刀痕猶未平也。令亦愕然。後以此被參揭免官，罰贖羈留而死。年餘，鄰母欲嫁其婦；婦感朱義，遂嫁之。

　　異史氏曰：「訟獄乃居官之首務，培陰騭，滅天理，皆在於此，不可不慎也。躁急污暴，固乖天和；淹滯因循，亦傷民命。一人興訟，則數農違時；一案既成，則十家蕩產：豈故之細哉！余嘗謂為官者，不濫受詞訟，即是盛德。且非重大之情，不必羈候；若無疑難之事，何用徘徊？即或鄉里愚民，山村豪氣，偶因鵝鴨之爭，致起雀角之忿，此不過借官宰之一言，以為平定而已，無用全人，祇須兩造，笞杖立加，葛藤悉斷。所謂神明之宰非耶？每見今之聽訟者矣：一票既出，若故忘之。攝牒者入手未盈，不令消見官之票；承刑者潤筆不飽，不肯懸聽審之牌。矇蔽因循，動經歲月，不及登長吏之庭，而皮骨已將盡矣！而儼然而民上也者，偃息在床，漠若無事。寧知水火獄中，有無數冤魂，伸頸延息，以望拔救耶！然在奸民之凶頑，固無足惜；而在良民株累，亦復何堪？況且無辜之干連，往往奸民少而良民多；而良民之受害，且更倍於奸民。何以故？奸民難虐，而良民易欺也。皂隸之所毆罵，胥徒之所需索，皆相良者而施之暴。自入公門，如蹈湯火。早結一日之案，則早安一日之生，有何大事，而顧奄奄堂上若死人，似恐谿壑之不遽飽，而故假之以歲時也者！雖非酷暴，而其實厥罪維均矣。嘗見一詞之中，其急要不可少者，不過三數人；其餘皆無辜之赤子，妄被羅織者也。或平昔以睚疃開嫌，或當前以懷璧致罪，故興訟者以其全力謀正案，而以其餘毒復小仇。帶一名於紙尾，遂成附骨之疽；受萬罪於公門，竟屬切膚之痛。人跪亦跪，狀若烏集；人出亦出，還同猱繫。而究之官問不及，吏詰不至，其實一無所用，祇足以破產傾家，飽蠹役之貪囊，鬻子典妻，洩小人之私憤而已。深願為官者，每投到時，略一審詰：當逐逐之，不當逐芟之。不過一濡毫、一動腕之間耳，便保全多少身家，培養多少元氣。從政者曾不一念及於此，又何必桁楊刀鋸能殺人哉！」

LXXIV. A RIP VAN WINKLE.

[THE story runs that a Mr. Chia, after obtaining, with the assistance of a mysterious friend, his master’s degree, became alive to the vanity of mere earthly honours, and determined to devote himself to the practice of Taoism, in the hope of obtaining the elixir of immortality.]

So early one morning Chia and his friend, whose name was Lang, stole away together, without letting Chia’s family know anything about it; and by-and-by they found themselves among the hills, in a vast cave where there was another world and another sky. An old man was sitting there in great state, and Lang presented Chia to him as his future master. “Why have you come so soon?” asked the old man; to which Lang replied, “My friend’s determination is firmly fixed: I pray you receive him amongst you.” “Since you have come,” said the old man, turning to Chia, “you must begin by putting away from you your earthly body.” Chia murmured his assent, and was then escorted by Lang to sleeping chamber where he was provided with food, after which Lang went away. The room was beautifully clean: the doors had no panels and the windows no lattices; and all the furniture was one table and one couch. Chia took off his shoes and lay down, with the moon shining brightly into the room; and beginning soon to feel hungry, he tried one of the cakes on the table, which he found sweet and very satisfying. He thought Lang would be sure to come back, but there he remained hour after hour by himself, never hearing a sound. He noticed, however, that the room was fragrant with a delicious perfume; his viscera seemed to be removed from his body, by which his intellectual faculties were much increased; and every one of his veins and arteries could be easily counted. Then suddenly he heard a sound like that of a cat scratching itself; and, looking out of the window, he beheld a tiger sitting under the verandah. He was horribly frightened for the moment, but immediately recalling the admonition of the old man, he collected himself and sat quietly down again. The tiger seemed to know that there was a man inside, for it entered the room directly afterwards, and walking straight up to the couch sniffed at Chia’s feet. Whereupon there was a noise outside, as if a fowl were having its legs tied, and the tiger ran away. Shortly afterwards a beautiful young girl came in, suffusing an exquisite fragrance around; and going up to the couch where Chia was, she bent over him and whispered, “Here I am.” Her breath was like the sweet odour of perfumes; but as Chia did not move, she whispered again, “Are you sleeping?” The voice sounded to Chia remarkably like that of his wife; however, he reflected that these were all probably nothing more than tests of his determination, so he closed his eyes firmly for a while. But by-and-by the young lady called him by his pet name, and then he opened his eyes wide to discover that she was no other than his own wife. On asking her how she had come there, she replied that Mr. Lang was afraid her husband would be lonely, and had sent an old woman to guide her to him. Just then they heard the old man outside in a towering rage, and Chia’s wife, not knowing where to conceal herself, jumped over a low wall near by and disappeared. In came the old man, and gave Lang a severe beating before Chia’s face, bidding him at once to get rid of his visitor; so Lang led Chia away over the low wall, saying, “I knew how anxious you were to consummate your immortality, and accordingly I tried to hurry things on a bit; but now I see that your time has not yet come: hence this beating I have had. Goodbye: we shall meet again some day.” He then shewed Chia the way to his home, and waving his hand bade him farewell. Chia looked down—for he was in the moon—and beheld the old familiar village and recollecting that his wife was not a good walker and would not have got very far, hurried on to overtake her. Before long he was at his own door, but he noticed that the place was all tumbledown and in ruins, and not as it was when he went away. As for the people he saw, old and young alike, he did not recognise one of them; and recollecting the story of how Liu and Yüan came back from heaven, he was afraid to go in at the door. So he sat down and rested outside; and after a while an old man leaning on a staff came out, whereupon Chia asked him which was the house of Mr. Chia. “This is it,” replied the old man; “you probably wish to hear the extraordinary story connected with the family? I know all about it. They say that Mr. Chia ran away just after he had taken his master’s degree, when his son was only seven or eight years old; and that about seven years afterwards the child’s mother went into a deep sleep from which she did not awake. As long as her son was alive he changed his mother’s clothes for her according to the seasons, but when he died, her grandsons fell into poverty, and had nothing but an old shanty to put the sleeping lady into. Last month she awaked, having been asleep for over a hundred years. People from far and near have been coming in great numbers to hear the strange story; of late, however, there have been rather fewer.” Chia was amazed when he heard all this, and, turning to the old man, said, “I am Chia Fêngchih.” This astonished the old man very much, and off he went to make the announcement to Chia’s family. The eldest grandson was dead; and the second, a man of about fifty, refused to believe that such a young-looking man was really his grandfather; but in a few moments out came Chia’s wife, and she recognised her husband at once. They then fell upon each other’s necks and mingled their tears together.

[After which the story is drawn out to a considerable length, but is quite devoid of interest.]

賈奉雉

　　賈奉雉，平涼人。才名冠一時，而試輒不售。一日，途中遇一秀才，自言郎姓，風格灑然，談言微中。因邀俱歸，出課藝就正。郎讀罷，不甚稱許，曰：「足下文，小試取第一則有餘，闈場取榜尾則不足。」賈曰：「奈何？」郎曰：「天下事，仰而跂之則難，俯而就之甚易，此何須鄙人言哉！」遂指一二人、一二篇以為標準，大率賈所鄙棄而不屑道者。聞之，笑曰：「學者立言，貴乎不朽，即味列八珍，當使天下不以為泰耳。如此獵取功名，雖登臺閣，猶為賤也。」郎曰：「不然。文章雖美，賤則弗傳。君欲抱卷以終也則已；不然，簾內諸官，皆以此等物事進身，恐不能因閱君文，另換一副眼睛肺腸也。」賈終嘿然。郎起而笑曰：「少年盛氣哉！」遂別而去。是秋入闈復落，邑邑不得志，頗思郎言，遂取前所指示者強讀之。未至終篇，昏昏欲睡，心惶惑無以自主。又三年，闈場將近，郎忽至，相見甚懽。因出所擬七題，使賈作文。越日，索文而閱，不以為可，又令復作；作已，又訾之。賈戲於落卷中，集其冗泛濫，不可告人之句，連綴成文，俟其來而示之。郎喜曰：「得之矣！」因使熟記，堅囑勿忘。賈笑曰：「實相告：此言不由中，轉瞬即去，便受夏楚，不能復憶之也。」郎坐案頭，強令自誦一過；因使袒背，以筆寫符而去，曰：「只此已足，可以束閣群書矣。」驗其符，濯之不下，深入肌理。至場中，七題無一遺者。回思諸作，茫不記憶，惟戲綴之文，歷歷在心。然把筆終以為羞；欲少竄易，而顛倒苦思，竟不能復更一字。日已西墜，直錄而出。郎候之已久，問：「何暮也？」賈以實告，即求拭符；視之，已漫滅矣。再憶場中文，遂如隔世。大奇之。因問：「何不自謀？」笑曰：「某惟不作此等想，故能不讀此等文也。」遂約明日過諸其寓。賈諾之。郎既去，賈取文稿自閱之，大非本懷，怏怏不自得，不復訪郎，嗒喪而歸。未幾，榜發，竟中經魁。閱舊稿，一讀一汗。讀竟，重衣盡溼。自言曰：「此文一出，何以見天下士矣！」方慚怍間，郎忽至曰：「求中即中矣，何其悶也？」曰：「僕適自念，以金盆玉椀貯狗矢，真無顏出見同人。行將遁跡山丘，與世長絕矣。」郎曰：「此亦大高，但恐不能耳。果能之，僕引見一人，長生可得，並千載之名，亦不足戀，況儻來之富貴乎！」賈悅，留與共宿，曰：「容某思之。」天明，謂郎曰：「予志決矣！」不告妻子，飄然遂去。漸入深山，至一洞府，其中別有天地。有叟坐堂上，郎使參之，呼以師。叟曰：「來何早也？」郎白：「此人道念已堅，望加收齒。」叟曰：「汝既來，須將此身並置度外，始得。」賈唯唯聽命。郎送至一院，安其寢處，又投以餌，始去。」房亦精潔；但戶無扉，窗無櫺，內惟一几一榻。賈解履登榻，月明穿射矣。覺微飢，取餌啖之，甘而易飽。竊意郎當復來，坐久寂然，杳無聲響。但覺清香滿室，臟腑空明，脈絡皆可指數。忽聞有聲甚厲，似貓抓癢，自牖睨之，則虎蹲檐下。乍見，甚驚；因憶師言，即復收神凝坐。虎似知其有人，尋入近榻，氣咻咻，遍嗅足股。少頃，聞庭中嗥動，如雞受縛，虎即趨出。又坐少時，一美人入，蘭麝撲人，悄然登榻，附耳小言曰：「我來矣。」一言之間，口脂散馥。賈瞑然不少動。又低聲曰：「睡乎？」聲音頗類其妻，心微動。又念曰：「此皆師相試之幻術也。」瞑如故。美人笑曰：「鼠子動矣！」初，夫妻與婢同室，押褻惟恐婢聞，私約一謎曰：「鼠子動，則相歡好。」忽聞是語，不覺大動，開目凝視，真其妻也。問：「何能來？」答云：「郎生恐君岑寂思歸，遣一嫗導我來。」言次，因賈出門不相告語，偎傍之際，頗有怨懟。賈慰藉良久，始得嬉笑為歡。既畢，夜已向晨，聞叟譙訶聲，漸近庭院。妻急起，無地自匿，遂越短牆而去。俄頃，郎從叟入。叟對賈杖郎，便令逐客。郎亦引賈自短牆出，曰：「僕望君奢，不免躁進；不圖情緣未斷，累受扑責。從此暫去，相見行有日也。」指示歸途，拱手遂別。賈俯視故村，故在目中。意妻弱步，必滯途間。疾趨里餘，已至家門，但見房垣零落，舊景全非，村中老幼，竟無一相識者，心始駭異。忽念劉、阮返自天台，情景真似。不敢入門，於對戶憩坐。良久，有老翁曳杖出。賈揖之，問：「賈某家何所？」翁指其第曰：「此即是也。得無欲聞奇事耶？僕悉知之。相傳此公聞捷即遁；遁時，其子纔七八歲。後至十四五歲，母忽大睡不醒。子在時，寒暑為之易衣；迨歿，兩孫窮踧，房舍拆毀，惟以木架苫覆蔽之。月前，夫人忽醒，屈指百餘年矣。遠近聞其異，皆來訪視，近日稍稀矣。」賈豁然頓悟，曰：「翁不知賈奉雉即某是也。」翁大駭，走報其家。時長孫已死；次孫祥，至五十餘矣。以賈年少，疑有詐偽。少間，夫人出，始識之。雙涕霪霪，呼與俱去。苦無屋宇，暫入孫舍。大小男婦，奔入盈側，皆其曾、玄，率陋劣少文。長孫婦吳氏，沽酒具藜藿；又使少子杲及婦，與己共室，除舍舍祖翁姑。賈入舍，煙埃兒溺，雜氣熏人。居數日，懊惋殊不可耐。兩孫家分供餐飲，調飪尤乖。里中以賈新歸，日日招飲；而夫人恆不得一飽。吳氏故士人女，頗嫻閨訓，承順不衰。祥家給奉漸疏，或嘑爾與之。賈怒，攜夫人去，設帳東里。每謂夫人曰：「吾甚悔此一返，而已無及矣。不得已，復理舊業，若心無愧恥，富貴不難致也。」居年餘，吳氏猶時餽餉，而祥父子絕跡矣。是歲，試入邑庠。邑令重其文，厚贈之，由此家稍裕。祥稍稍來近就之。賈喚入，計曩所耗費，出金償之，斥絕令去。遂買新第，移吳氏共居之。吳二子，長者留守舊業；次杲頗慧，使與門人輩共筆硯。賈自山中歸，心思益明澈。無何，連捷登進士第。又數年，以侍御出巡兩浙，聲名赫奕，歌舞樓臺，一時稱盛。賈為人骾峭，不避權貴，朝中大僚，思中傷之。賈屢疏恬退，未蒙俞旨，未幾而禍作矣。先是，祥六子皆無賴，賈雖擯斥不齒，然皆竊餘勢以作威福，橫占田宅，鄉人共患之。有某乙娶新婦，祥次子篡取為妾。乙故狙詐，鄉人斂金助訟，以此聞於都。於是當道者交章攻賈。賈殊無以自剖，被收經年。祥及次子皆瘐死。賈奉旨充遼陽軍。時杲入泮已久，為人頗仁厚，有賢聲。夫人生一子，年十六，遂以囑杲，夫妻攜一僕一媼而去。賈曰：「十餘年富貴，曾不如一夢之久。今始知榮華之場，皆地獄境界，悔比劉晨、阮肇，多造一重孽案耳。」數日，抵海岸，遙見巨舟來，鼓樂殷作，虞候皆如天神。既近，舟中一人出，笑請侍御過舟少憩。賈見驚喜，踴身而過，押隸不敢禁。夫人急欲相從，而相去已遠，遂憤投海中。漂泊數步，見一人垂練於水，引救而去。隸命篙師盪舟，且追且號，但聞鼓聲如雷，與轟濤相間，瞬間遂杳。僕識其人，蓋郎生也。

　　異史氏曰：「世傳陳大士在闈中，書藝既成，吟誦數四，歎曰：『亦復誰人識得！』遂棄而更作，以故闈墨不及諸稿。賈生羞而遁去，此處有仙骨乃再返人世，遂以口腹自貶，貧賤之中人甚矣哉！」

LXXV. THE THREE STATES OF EXISTENCE.

A CERTAIN man of the province of Hunan could recall what had happened to him in three previous lives. In the first, he was a magistrate; and, on one occasion, when he had been nominated AssistantExaminer, a candidate, named Hsing, was unsuccessful. Hsing went home dreadfully mortified, and soon after died; but his spirit appeared before the King of Purgatory, and read aloud the rejected essay, whereupon thousands of other shades, all of whom had suffered in a similar way, thronged around, and unanimously elected Hsing as their chief. The Examiner was immediately summoned to take his trial, and when he arrived the King asked him, saying, “As you are appointed to examine the various essays, how is it that you throw out the able and admit the worthless?” “Sire,” replied he, “the ultimate decision rests with the Grand Examiner; I only pass them on to him.” The King then issued a warrant for the apprehension of the Grand Examiner, and, as soon as he appeared, he was told what had just now been said against him; to which he answered, “I am only able to make a general estimate of the merits of the candidates. Valuable essays may be kept back from me by my AssociateExaminers, in which case I am powerless.” But the King cried out, “It’s all very well for you two thus to throw the blame on each other; you are both guilty, and both of you must be bambooed according to law.” This sentence was about to be carried into effect, when Hsing, who was not at all satisfied with its lack of severity, set up such a fearful screeching and howling, in which he was well supported by all the other hundreds and thousands of shades, that the King stopped short, and inquired what was the matter. Thereupon Hsing informed His Majesty that the sentence was too light, and that the Examiners should both have their eyes gouged out, so as not to be able to read essays any more. The King would not consent to this, explaining to the noisy rabble that the Examiners did not purposely reject good essays, but only because they themselves were naturally wanting in capacity. The shades then begged that, at any rate, their hearts might be cut out, and to this the King was obliged to yield; so the Examiners were seized by the attendants, their garments stripped off, and their bodies ripped open with sharp knives. The blood poured out on the ground, and the victims screamed with pain; at which all the shades rejoiced exceedingly, and said, “Here we have been pent up, with no one to redress our wrongs; but now Mr. Hsing has come, our injuries are washed away.” They then dispersed with great noise and hubbub. As for our AssociateExaminer, after his heart had been cut out, he came to life again as the son of a poor man in Shensi; and when he was twenty years old he fell into the hands of the rebels, who were at that time giving great trouble to the country. Byandby, a certain official was sent at the head of some soldiers to put down the insurrection, and he succeeded in capturing a large number of the rebels, among whom was our hero. The latter reflected that he himself was no rebel, and he was hoping that he would be able to obtain his release in consequence, when he noticed that the officer in charge was also a man of his own age, and, on looking more closely, he saw that it was his old enemy, Hsing. “Alas!” cried he, “such is destiny;” and so indeed it turned out, for all the other prisoners were forthwith released, and he alone was beheaded. Once more his spirit stood before the King of Purgatory, this time with an accusation against Hsing. The King, however, would not summon Hsing at once, but said he should be allowed to complete his term of official life on earth; and it was not till thirty years afterwards that Hsing appeared to answer to the charge. Then, because he had made light of the lives of his people, he was condemned to be born again as a brutebeast; and our hero, too, inasmuch as he had been known to beat his father and mother, was sentenced to a similar fate. The latter, fearing the future vengeance of Hsing, persuaded the King to give him the advantage of size; and, accordingly, orders were issued that he was to be born again as a big dog, and Hsing as a little, dog. The big dog came to life in a shop in Shunt‘ien Fu, and was one day lying down in the street, when a trader from the south arrived, bringing with him a little goldenhaired dog, about the size of a wild cat, which, lo and behold! turned out to be Hsing. The other, thinking Hsing’s size would render him an easy prey, seized him at once; but the little one caught him from underneath by the throat, and hung there firmly, like a bell. The big dog tried hard to shake him off, and the people of the shop did their best to separate them, but all was of no avail, and in a few moments both dogs were dead. Upon their spirits presenting themselves, as usual, before the King, each with its grievance against the other, the King cried out, “When will ye have done with your wrongs and your animosities? I will now settle the matter finally for you;” and immediately commanded that Hsing should become the other’s soninlaw in the next world. The latter was then born at Ch‘ingyün, and when he was twentyeight years of age took his master’s degree. He had one daughter, a very pretty girl, whom many of his wealthy neighbours would have been glad to get for their sons; but he would not accept any of their offers. On one occasion, he happened to pass through the prefectural city just as the examination for bachelor’s degree was over; and the candidate who had come out at the top of the list, though named Li, was no other than Mr. Hsing. So he led this man away, and took him to an inn, where he treated him with the utmost cordiality, finally arranging that, as Mr. Li was still unmarried, he should marry his pretty daughter. Everyone, of course, thought that this was done in admiration of Li’s talents, ignorant that destiny had already decreed the union of the young couple. No sooner were they married than Li, proud of his own literary achievements, began to slight his fatherinlaw, and often passed many months without going near him; all of which the fatherinlaw bore very patiently, and when, at length, Li had repeatedly failed to get on any farther in his career, he even went so far as to set to work, by all manner of means, to secure his success; after which they lived happily together as father and son.

三生

　　湖南某，能記前生三世。一世為令尹，闈場入簾。有名士興于唐被黜落，憤懣而卒，至陰司執卷訟之。此狀一投，其同病死者以千萬計，推興為首，聚散成群。某被攝去，相與對質。閻羅便問：「某既衡文，何得黜佳士而進凡庸？」某辨言：「上有總裁，某不過奉行之耳。」閻羅即發一簽，往拘主司。久之，勾至。閻羅即述某言。主司曰：「某不過總其大成；雖有佳章，而房官不薦，吾何由而見之也？」閻羅曰：「此不得相諉，其失職均也，例合笞。」方將施刑，興不滿志，戛然大號；兩墀諸鬼，萬聲鳴和。閻羅問故，興抗言曰：「笞罪太輕，是必掘其雙睛，以為不識文字之報。」閻羅不肯，眾呼益厲。閻羅曰：「彼非不欲得佳文，特其所見鄙耳。」眾又請剖其心。閻羅不得已，使人褫去袍服，以白刃劙胸，兩人瀝血鳴嘶。眾始大快，皆曰：「吾輩抑鬱泉下，未有能一伸此氣者；今得興先生，怨氣都消矣。」鬨然遂散。某受剖已，押投陝西為庶人子。年二十餘，值土寇大作，陷入賊中。有兵巡道往平賊，俘擄甚眾，某亦在中。心猶自揣非賊，冀可辯釋。及見堂上官，亦年二十餘，細視，則興生也。驚曰：「吾合盡矣！」既而俘者盡釋，惟某後至，不容置辨，竟斬之。某至陰司投狀訟興。閻羅不即拘，待其祿盡，遲之三十年，興始至，面質之。興以草菅人命，罰作畜。稽某所為，曾撻其父母，其罪維均。某恐來生再報，請為大畜。閻羅判為大犬，興為小犬。某生於北順天府市肆中。一日，臥街頭，有客自南中來，攜金毛犬，大如狸。某視之，興也。心易其小，齕之。小犬齩其喉下，繫綴如鈴。大犬擺撲嗥竄，市人解之不得。俄頃，俱斃。並至冥司，互有爭論。閻羅曰：「冤冤相報，何時可已。今為若解之。」乃判興來世為某婿。某生慶雲，二十八舉於鄉。生一女，嫻靜娟好，世族爭委禽焉。某皆弗許。偶過臨郡，值學使發落諸生，其第一卷李姓，實興也。遂挽至旅舍，優厚之。問其家，適無偶，遂訂姻好。人皆謂某憐才，而不知有夙因也。既而娶女去，相得甚歡。然婿恃才輒侮翁，恆隔歲不一至其門。翁亦耐之。後婿中歲偃蹇，苦不得售，翁百計為之營謀，始得志於名場。由此和好如父子焉。

　　異史氏曰：「一被黜而三世不解，怨毒之甚至此哉！閻羅之調停固善；然墀下千萬眾，如此紛紛，勿亦天下之愛婿，皆冥中之悲鳴號動者耶？」

LXXVI. IN THE INFERNAL REGIONS.

HSI FANGP‘ING was a native of Tungan. His father’s name was Hsi Lien—a hasty tempered man, who had quarrelled with a neighbour named Yang. By-and-by Yang died: and some years afterwards when Lien was on his deathbed, he cried out that Yang was bribing the devils in hell to torture him. His body then swelled up and turned red, and in a few moments he had breathed his last. His son wept bitterly, and refused all food, saying, “Alas! my poor father is now being maltreated by cruel devils; I must go down and help to redress his wrongs.” Thereupon he ceased speaking, and sat for a long time like one dazed, his soul having already quitted its tenement of clay. To himself he appeared to be outside the house, not knowing in what direction to go, so he inquired from one of the passers-by which was the way to the district city. Before long he found himself there, and, directing his steps towards the prison, found his father lying outside in a very shocking state. When the latter beheld his son, he burst into tears, and declared that the gaolers had been bribed to beat him, which they did both day and night, until they had reduced him to his present sorry plight. Then Fangp‘ing turned round in a great rage, and began to curse the gaolers. “Out upon you!” cried he; “if my father is guilty he should be punished according to law, and not at the will of a set of scoundrels like you.” Thereupon he hurried away, and prepared a petition, which he took with him to present at the morning session of the City God; but his enemy, Yang, had meanwhile set to work, and bribed so effectually, that the City God dismissed his petition for want of corroborative evidence. Fangp‘ing was furious, but could do nothing; so he started at once for the prefectural city, where he managed to get his plaint received, though it was nearly a month before it came on for hearing, and then all he got was a reference back to the district city, where he was severely tortured, and escorted back to the door of his own home, for fear he should give further trouble. However, he did not go in, but stole away and proceeded to lay his complaint before one of the ten Judges of Purgatory; whereupon the two mandarins who had previously ill-used him, came forward and secretly offered him a thousand ounces of silver if he would withdraw the charge. This he positively refused to do; and some days subsequently the landlord of the inn, where he was staying, told him he had been a fool for his pains, and that he would now get neither money nor justice, the Judge himself having already been tampered with. Fangp‘ing thought this was mere gossip, and would not believe it; but, when his case was called, the Judge utterly refused to hear the charge, and ordered him twenty blows with the bamboo, which were administered in spite of all his protestations. He then cried out, “Ah! it’s all because I have no money to give you;” which so incensed the Judge, that he told the lictors to throw Fangp‘ing on the fire bed. This was a great iron couch, with a roaring fire underneath, which made it red-hot; and upon that the devils cast Fangp‘ing, having first stripped off his clothes, pressing him down on it, until the fire ate into his very bones, though in spite of that he could not die. After a while the devils said he had had enough, and made him get off the iron bed, and put his clothes on again. He was just able to walk, and when he went back into court, the Judge asked him if he wanted to make any further complaints. “Alas!” cried he, “my wrongs are still unredressed, and I should only be lying were I to say I would complain no more.” The Judge then inquired what he had to complain of; to which Fangp‘ing replied that it was of the injustice of his recent punishment. This enraged the Judge so much that he ordered his attendants to saw Fangp‘ing in two. He was then led away by devils, to a place where he was thrust in between a couple of wooden boards, the ground on all sides being wet and sticky with blood. Just at that moment he was summoned to return before the Judge, who asked him if he was still of the same mind; and, on his replying in the affirmative, he was taken back again, and bound between the two boards. The saw was then applied, and as it went through his brain he experienced the most cruel agonies, which, however, he managed to endure without uttering a cry. “He’s a tough customer,” said one of the devils, as the saw made its way gradually through his chest; to which the other replied, “Truly, this is filial piety; and, as the poor fellow has done nothing, let us turn the saw a little out of the direct line, so as to avoid injuring his heart.” Fangp‘ing then felt the saw make a curve inside him, which caused him even more pain than before; and, in a few moments, he was cut through right down to the ground, and the two halves of his body fell apart, along with the boards to which they were tied, one on either side. The devils went back to report progress, and were then ordered to join Fangp‘ing together again, and bring him in. This they accordingly did,—the cut all down Fangp‘ing’s body hurting him dreadfully, and feeling as if it would reopen every minute. But, as Fangp‘ing was unable to walk, one of the devils took out a cord and tied it round his waist, as a reward, he said, for his filial piety. The pain immediately ceased, and Fangp‘ing appeared once more before the Judge, this time promising that he would make no more complaints. The Judge now gave orders that he should be sent up to earth, and the devils, escorting him out of the north gate of the city, shewed him his way home, and went away. Fangp‘ing now saw that there was even less chance of securing justice in the Infernal Regions than upon the earth above; and, having no means of getting at the Great King to plead his case, he bethought himself of a certain upright and benevolent God, called Erh Lang, who was a relative of the Great King’s, and him he determined to seek. So he turned about and took his way southwards, but was immediately seized by some devils, sent out by the Judge to watch that he really went back to his home. These devils hurried him again into the Judge’s presence, where he was received, contrary to his expectation, with great affability; the Judge himself praising his filial piety, but declaring that he need trouble no further in the matter, as his father had already been born again in a wealthy and illustrious family. “And upon you,” added the Judge, “I now bestow a present of one thousand ounces of silver to take home with you, as well as the old age of a centenarian, with which I hope you will be satisfied.” He then shewed Fangp‘ing the stamped record of this, and sent him away in charge of the devils. The latter now began to abuse him for giving them so much trouble, but Fangp‘ing turned sharply upon them, and threatened to take them back before the Judge. They were then silent, and marched along for about half a day, until at length they reached a village, where the devils invited Fangp‘ing into a house, the door of which was standing half open. Fangp‘ing was just going in, when suddenly the devils gave him a shove from behind, and ... there he was, born again on earth as a little girl. For three days he pined and cried, without taking any food, and then he died. But his spirit did not forget Erh Lang, and set out at once in search of that God. He had not gone far when he fell in with the retinue of some high personage, and one of the attendants seized him for getting in the way, and hurried him before his master. He was taken to a chariot, where he saw a handsome young man, sitting in great state; and thinking that now was his chance, he told the young man, who he imagined to be a high mandarin, all his sad story from beginning to end. His bonds were then loosed, and he went along with the young man until they reached a place where several officials came out to receive them; and to one of these he confided Fangp‘ing, who now learnt that the young man was no other than God himself, the officials being the nine princes of heaven, and the one to whose care he was entrusted no other than Erh Lang. This last was very tall, and had a long white beard, not at all like the popular representation of a God; and when the other princes had gone, he took Fangp‘ing into a courtroom, where he saw his father and their old enemy, Yang, besides all the lictors and others who had been mixed up in the case. By-and-by, some criminals were brought in in cages, and these turned out to be the Judge, Prefect, and Magistrate. The trial was then commenced, the three wicked officers trembling and shaking in their shoes; and when he had heard the evidence, Erh Lang proceeded to pass sentence upon the prisoners, each of whom he sentenced, after enlarging upon the enormity of their several crimes, to be roasted, boiled, and otherwise put to most excruciating tortures. As for Fangp‘ing, he accorded him three extra decades of life, as a reward for his filial piety, and a copy of the sentence was put in his pocket. Father and son journeyed along together, and at length reached their home; that is to say, Fangp‘ing was the first to recover consciousness, and then bade the servants open his father’s coffin, which they immediately did, and the old man at once came back to life. But when Fangp‘ing looked for his copy of the sentence, lo! it had disappeared. As for the Yang family, poverty soon overtook them, and all their lands passed into Fangp‘ing’s hands; for as sure as any one else bought them, they became sterile forthwith, and would produce nothing; but Fangp‘ing and his father lived on happily, both reaching the age of ninety and odd years.

席方平

　　席方平，東安人。其父名廉，性戇拙。因與里中富室羊姓有郤，羊先死；數年，廉病垂危，謂人曰：「羊某今賄囑冥使搒我矣。」俄而身赤腫，號呼遂死，席慘怛不食，曰：「我父樸訥，今見陵於強鬼；我將赴地下，代伸冤氣耳。」自此不復言，時坐時立，狀類癡，蓋魂已離舍矣。

　　席覺初出門，莫知所往，但見路有行人，便問城邑。少選，入城。其父已收獄中。至獄門，遙見父臥簷下，似甚狼狽；舉目見子，潸然涕流。便謂：「獄吏悉受賕囑，日夜搒掠，脛股摧殘甚矣！」席怒，大罵獄吏：「父如有罪，自有王章，豈汝等死魅所能操耶！」遂出，抽筆為詞。值城隍早衙，喊冤以投。羊懼，內外賄通，始出質理。城隍以所告無據，頗不直席。席忿氣無所復伸，冥行百餘里，至郡，以官役私狀，告之郡司。遲之半月，始得質理。郡司扑席，仍批城隍覆案。席至邑，備受械梏，慘冤不能自舒。城隍恐其再訟，遣役押送歸家。役至門辭去。席不肯入，遁赴冥府，訴郡邑之酷貪。冥王立拘質對。二官密遣腹心，與席關說，許以千金。席不聽。過數日，逆旅主人告曰：「君負氣已甚，官府求和而執不從，今聞於王前各有函進，恐事殆矣。」席以道路之口，猶未深信。俄有皂衣人喚入。升堂，見冥王有怒色，不容置詞，命笞二十。席厲聲問：「小人何罪？」冥王漠若不聞。席受笞，喊曰：「受笞允當，誰教我無錢耶！」冥王益怒，命置火床。兩鬼捽席下，見東墀有鐵床，熾火其下，床面通赤。鬼脫席衣，掬置其上，反復揉捺之。痛極，骨肉焦黑，苦不得死。約一時許，鬼曰：「可矣。」遂扶起，促使下床著衣，猶幸跛而能行。復至堂上，冥王問：「敢再訟乎？」席曰：「大冤未伸，寸心不死，若言不訟，是欺王也。必訟！」又問：「訟何詞？」席曰：「身所受者，皆言之耳。」冥王又怒，命以鋸解其體。二鬼拉去，見立木，高八九尺許，有木板二，仰置其上，上下凝血模糊。方將就縛，忽堂上大呼「席某」，二鬼即復押回。冥王又問：「尚敢訟否？」答云：「必訟！」冥王命捉去速解。既下，鬼乃以二板夾席，縛木上。鋸方下，覺頂腦漸闢，痛不可禁，顧亦忍而不號。聞鬼曰：「壯哉此漢！」鋸隆隆然尋至胸下。又聞一鬼云：「此人大孝無辜，鋸令稍偏，勿損其心。」遂覺鋸鋒曲折而下，其痛倍苦。俄頃，半身闢矣。板解，兩身俱仆。鬼上堂大聲以報。堂上傳呼，令合身來見。二鬼即推令復合，曳使行。席覺鋸縫一道，痛欲復裂，半步而踣。一鬼於腰間出絲帶一條授之，曰：「贈此以報汝孝。」受而束之，一身頓健，殊無少苦。遂升堂而伏。冥王復問如前；席恐再罹酷毒，便答：「不訟矣。」冥王立命送還陽界。隸率出北門，指示歸途，反身遂去。

　　席念陰曹之暗昧尤甚於陽間，奈無路可達帝聽。世傳灌口二郎為帝勳戚，其神聰明正直，訴之當有靈異。竊喜兩隸已去，遂轉身南向。奔馳間，有二人追至，曰：「王疑汝不歸，今果然矣。」捽回復見冥王。竊意冥王益怒，禍必更慘；而王殊無厲容，謂席曰：「汝志誠孝。但汝父冤，我已為若雪之矣。今已往生富貴家，何用汝鳴呼為。今送汝歸，予以千金之產、期頤之壽，於願足乎？」乃註籍中，嵌以巨印，使親視之。席謝而下。鬼與俱出，至途，驅而罵曰：「奸猾賊！頻頻翻覆，使人奔波欲死！再犯，當捉入大磨中，細細研之！」席張目叱曰：「鬼子胡為者！我性耐刀鋸，不耐撻楚。請反見王，王如令我自歸，亦復何勞相送。」乃返奔。二鬼懼，溫語勸回。席故蹇緩，行數步，輒憩路側。鬼含怒不敢復言。約半日，至一村，一門半闢，鬼引與共坐；席便據門閾。二鬼乘其不備，推入門中。

　　驚定自視，身已生為嬰兒。憤啼不乳，三日遂殤。魂搖搖不忘灌口，約奔數十里，忽見羽葆來，旛戟橫路。越道避之，因犯鹵簿，為前馬所執，縶送車前。仰見車中一少年，丰儀瑰瑋。問席：「何人？」席冤憤正無所出，且意是必巨官，或當能作威福，因緬訴毒痛。車中人命釋其縛，使隨車行。俄至一處，官府十餘員，迎謁道左，車中人各有問訊。已而指席謂一官曰：「此下方人，正欲往愬，宜即為之剖決。」席詢之從者，始知車中即上帝殿下九王，所囑即二郎也。席視二郎，修軀多髯，不類世間所傳。九王既去，席從二郎至一官廨，則其父與羊姓並衙隸俱在。少頃，檻車中有囚人出，則冥王及郡司、城隍也。當堂對勘，席所言皆不妄。三官戰慄，狀若伏鼠。二郎援筆立判；頃之，傳下判語，令案中人共視之。判云：「勘得冥王者：職膺王爵，身受帝恩。自應貞潔以率臣僚，不當貪墨以速官謗。而乃繁纓棨戟，徒誇品秩之尊；羊狠狼貪，竟玷人臣之節。斧敲斲，斲入木，婦子之皮骨皆空；鯨吞魚，魚食蝦，螻蟻之微生可憫。當掬西江之水，為爾湔腸；即燒東壁之床，請君入甕。城隍、郡司，為小民父母之官，司上帝牛羊之牧。雖則職居下列，而盡瘁者不辭折腰；即或勢逼大僚，而有志者亦應強項。乃上下其鷹鷙之手，既罔念夫民貧；且飛揚其狙獪之奸，更不嫌乎鬼瘦。惟受贓而枉法，真人面而獸心！是宜剔髓伐毛，暫罰冥死；所當脫皮換革，仍令胎生。隸役者：既在鬼曹，便非人類。祇宜公門修行，庶還落蓐之身；何得苦海生波，益造彌天之孽？飛揚跋扈，狗臉生六月之霜；隳突叫號，虎威斷九衢之路。肆淫威於冥界，咸知獄吏為尊；助酷虐於昏官，共以屠伯是懼。當於法場之內，剁其四肢；更向湯鑊之中，撈其筋骨。羊某：富而不仁，狡而多詐。金光蓋地，因使閻摩殿上，盡是陰霾；銅臭熏天，遂教枉死城中，全無日月。餘腥猶能役鬼，大力直可通神。宜籍羊氏之家，以賞席生之孝。即押赴東岳施行。」

　　又謂席廉：「念汝子孝義，汝性良懦，可再賜陽壽三紀。」因使兩人送之歸里。席乃抄其判詞，途中父子共讀之。既至家，席先蘇；令家人啟棺視父，僵尸猶冰，俟之終日，漸溫而活。及索抄詞，則已無矣。自此，家日益豐；三年間，良沃遍野；而羊氏子孫微矣，樓閣田產，盡為席有。里人或有買其田者，夜夢神人叱之曰：「此席家物，汝烏得有之！」初未深信；既而種作，則終年升斗無所獲，於是復鬻歸席。席父九十餘歲而卒。

　　異史氏曰：「人人言凈土，而不知生死隔世，意念都迷，且不知其所以來，又烏知其所以去；而況死而又死，生而復生者乎？忠孝志定，萬劫不移，異哉席生，何其偉也！」

LXXVII. SINGULAR CASE OF OPHTHALMIA.

A MR. KU, of Chiangnan, was stopping in an inn at Chih-sia, when he was attacked by a very severe inflammation of the eyes. Day and night he lay on his bed groaning, no medicines being of any avail; and when he did get a little better, his recovery was accompanied by a singular phenomenon. Every time he closed his eyes, he beheld in front of him a number of large buildings, with all their doors wide open, and people passing and repassing in the background, none of whom he recognised by sight. One day he had just sat down to have a good look, when, all of a sudden, he felt himself passing through the open doors. He went on through three courtyards without meeting any one; but, on looking into some rooms on either side, he saw a great number of young girls sitting, lying, and kneeling about on a red carpet, which was spread on the ground. Just then a man came out from behind the building, and, seeing Ku, said to him, “Ah, the Prince said there was a stranger at the door; I suppose you are the person he meant.” He then asked Ku to walk in, which the latter was at first unwilling to do; however, he yielded to the man’s instances, and accompanied him in, asking whose palace it was. His guide told him it belonged to the son of the Ninth Prince, and that he had arrived at the nick of time, for a number of friends and relatives had chosen this very day to come and congratulate the young gentleman on his recent recovery from a severe illness. Meanwhile another person had come out to hurry them on, and they soon reached a spot where there was a pavilion facing the north, with an ornamental terrace and red balustrades, supported by nine pillars. Ascending the steps, they found the place full of visitors, and then espied a young man seated with his face to the north, whom they at once knew to be the Prince’s son, and thereupon they prostrated themselves before him, the whole company rising as they did so. The young Prince made Ku sit down to the east of him, and caused wine to be served; after which some singing girls came in and performed the Hua fêng chu. They had got to about the third scene, when, all of a sudden, Ku heard the landlord of the inn and his servant shouting out to him that dinner was ready, and was dreadfully afraid that the young Prince, too, had heard. No one, however, seemed to have noticed anything, so Ku begged to be excused a moment, as he wished to change his clothes, and immediately ran out. He then looked up, and saw the sun low in the west, and his servant standing by his bedside, whereupon he knew that he had never left the inn. He was much chagrined at this, and wished to go back as fast as he could; he, therefore, dismissed his servant, and on shutting his eyes once more, he found everything just as he had left it, except that where, on the first occasion, he had observed the young girls, there were none now to be seen, but only some dishevelled humpbacked creatures, who cried out at him, and asked him what he meant by spying about there. Ku didn’t dare reply, but hurried past them as quickly as he could, and on to the pavilion of the young Prince. There he found him still sitting, but with a black beard over a foot in length; and the Prince was anxious to know where he had been, saying that seven scenes of the play were already over. He then seized a big goblet of wine, and made Ku drink it as a penalty, by which time the play was finished, and the list was handed up for a further selection. The “Marriage of P‘êng Tsu” was selected, and then the singing girls began to hand round the wine in cocoanuts big enough to hold about five quarts, which Ku declined, on the ground that he was suffering from weak eyes, and was consequently afraid to drink too much. “If your eyes are bad,” cried the young Prince, “the Court physician is at hand, and can attend to you.” Thereupon, one of the guests sitting to the east came forward, and opening Ku’s eyes with his fingers, touched them with some white ointment, which he applied from the end of a jade pin. He then bade Ku close his eyes, and take a short nap; so the Prince had him conducted into a sleeping room, where he found the bed so soft, and surrounded by such delicious perfume, that he soon fell into a deep slumber. By-and-by he was awaked by what appeared to be the clashing of cymbals, and fancied that the play was still going on; but on opening his eyes, he saw that it was only the inn dog, which was licking an oilman’s gong. His ophthalmia, however, was quite cured; and when he shut his eyes again he could see nothing.

顧生

　　江南顧生，客稷下，眼暴腫，晝夜呻吟，罔所醫藥。十餘日，痛少減。乃合眼時輒睹巨宅，凡四五進，門皆洞闢；最深處有人往來，但遙睹不可細認。一日，方凝神注之，忽覺身入宅中，三歷門戶，絕無人跡。有南北廳事，內以紅氈貼地。略窺之，見滿屋嬰兒，坐者、臥者、膝行者，不可數計。愕疑間，一人自舍後出，見之曰：「小王子謂有遠客在門，果然。」便邀之。顧不敢入，強之乃入。問：「此何所？」曰：「九王世子居。世子瘧疾新瘥，今日親賓作賀，先生有緣也。」言未已，有奔至者，督促速行。俄至一處，雕榭朱欄，一殿北向，凡九楹。歷階而升，則客已滿座，見一少年北面坐，知是王子，便伏堂下。滿堂盡起。王子曳顧東向坐。酒既行，鼓樂暴作，諸妓升堂，演「華封祝」。纔過三折，逆旅主人及僕喚進午餐，就床頭頻呼之。耳聞甚真，心恐王子知，遂託更衣而出。仰視日中夕，則見僕立床前，始悟未離旅邸。心欲急反，因遣僕闔扉去。甫交睫，見宮舍依然，急循故道而入。路經前嬰兒處，並無嬰兒，有數十媼蓬首駝背，坐臥其中。望見顧，出惡聲曰：「誰家無賴子，來此窺伺！」顧驚懼，不敢置辨，疾趨後庭，升殿即坐。見王子頷下添髭尺餘矣。見顧，笑問：「何往？劇本過七折矣。」因以巨觥示罰。移時曲終，又呈齣目。顧點「彭祖娶婦」。妓即以椰瓢行酒，可容五斗許。顧離席辭曰：「臣目疾，不敢過醉。」王子曰：「君患目，有太醫在此，便合診視。」東座一客，即離坐來，兩指啟雙眥，以玉簪點白膏如脂，囑合目少睡。王子命侍兒導入複室，令臥；臥片時，覺床帳香軟，因而熟眠。居無何，忽聞鳴鉦鍠聒，即復驚醒。疑是優戲未畢；開目視之，則旅舍中狗舐油鐺也。然目疾若失。再閉眼，一無所睹矣。

LXXVIII. CHOU K‘OCH‘ANG AND HIS GHOST.

AT Huaishang there lived a graduate named Chou T‘ien-i, who, though fifty years of age, had but one son, called K‘och‘ang, whom he loved very dearly. This boy, when about thirteen or fourteen, was a handsome, well-favoured fellow, strangely averse to study, and often playing truant from school, sometimes for the whole day, without any remonstrance on the part of his father. One day he went away and did not come back in the evening; neither, after a diligent search, could any traces of him be discovered. His father and mother were in despair, and hardly cared to live; but after a year and more had passed away, lo and behold! K‘och‘ang returned, saying that he had been beguiled away by a Taoist priest, who, however, had not done him any harm, and that he had seized a moment while the priest was absent to escape and find his way home again. His father was delighted, and asked him no more questions, but set to work to give him an education; and K‘och‘ang was so much cleverer and more intelligent than he had been before, that by the following year he had taken his bachelor’s degree and had made quite a name for himself. Immediately all the good families of the neighbourhood wanted to secure him as a son-in-law. Among others proposed there was an extremely nice girl, the daughter of a gentleman named Chao, who had taken his doctor’s degree, and K‘och‘ang’s father was very anxious that he should marry the young lady. The youth himself would not hear of it, but stuck to his books and took his master’s degree, quite refusing to entertain any thought of marriage; and this so exasperated his mother that one day the good lady began to rate him soundly. K‘och‘ang got up in a great rage and cried out, “I have long been wanting to get away, and have only remained for your sakes. I shall now say farewell, and leave Miss Chao for any one that likes to marry her.” At this his mother tried to detain him, but in a moment he had fallen forwards on the ground, and there was nothing left of him but his hat and clothes. They were all dreadfully frightened, thinking that it must have been K‘och‘ang’s ghost who had been with them, and gave themselves up to weeping and lamentation; however, the very next day K‘och‘ang arrived, accompanied by a retinue of horses and servants, his story being that he had formerly been kidnapped and sold to a wealthy trader, who, being then childless, had adopted him, but who, when he subsequently had a son born to him by his own wife, sent K‘och‘ang back to his old home. And as soon as his father began to question him as to his studies, his utter dulness and want of knowledge soon made it clear that he was the real K‘och‘ang of old; but he was already known as a man who had got his master’s degree, (that is, the ghost of him had got it,) so it was determined in the family to keep the whole affair secret. This K‘och‘ang was only too ready to espouse Miss Chao; and before a year had passed over their heads his wife had presented the old people with the much longed-for grandson.

周克昌

　　淮上貢士周天儀，年五旬，止一子，名克昌，愛暱之。至十三四歲，丰姿益秀；而性不喜讀，輒逃塾，從群兒戲，恆終日不返。周亦聽之。一日，既暮不歸，始尋之，殊竟烏有。夫妻號咷，幾不欲生。年餘，昌忽自至。言：「為道士迷去，幸不見害。值其他出，得逃而歸。」周喜極，亦不追問。及教以讀，慧悟倍於疇曩。踰年，文思大進，既入郡庠試，遂知名。世族爭婚，昌頗不願。趙進士女有姿，周強為娶之。既入門，夫妻調笑甚懽；而昌恆獨宿，若無所私。逾年，秋戰而捷。周益慰。然年漸暮，日望抱孫，故嘗隱諷昌。昌漠若不解。母不能忍，朝夕多絮語。昌變色，出曰：「我久欲亡去，所不遽捨者，顧復之情耳。實不能探討房帷，以慰所望。請仍去，彼順志者且復來矣。」媼追曳之，已踣，衣冠如蛻。大駭，疑昌已死，是必其鬼也。悲嘆而已。次日，昌忽僕馬而至，舉家惶駭。近詰之，亦言：為惡人略賣於富商之家；商無子，子焉。得昌後，忽生一子。昌思家，遂送之歸。問所學，則頑鈍如昔。乃知此為昌；其入泮鄉捷者，鬼之假也。然竊喜其事未泄，即使襲孝廉之名。入房，婦甚狎熟；而昌靦然有愧色，似新婚者。甫周年，生子矣。

　　異史氏曰：「古言庸福人，必鼻口眉目間具有少庸，而後福隨之；其精光陸離者，鬼所棄也。庸之所在，桂籍可以不入闈而通，佳麗可以不親迎而致；而況少有憑藉，益之以鑽窺者乎！」

LXXIX. THE SPIRITS OF THE POYANG LAKE.

AN official, named Chai, was appointed to a post at Jaochou, and on his way thither crossed the Poyang lake. Happening to visit the shrine of the local spirits, he noticed a carved image of the patriotic Ting P‘ulang, and another of a namesake of his own, the latter occupying a very inferior position. “Come! come!” said Chai, “my patron saint shan’t be put in the background like that;” so he moved the image into a more honourable place, and then went back on board his boat again. Soon after, a great wind struck the vessel, and carried away the mast and sails; at which the sailors, in great alarm, set to work to howl and cry. However, in a few moments they saw a small skiff come cutting through the waves, and before long they were all safely on board. The man who rowed it was strangely like the image in the shrine, the position of which Chai had changed; but they were hardly out of danger when the squall had passed over, and skiff and man had both vanished.

鄱陽神

　　翟湛持，司理饒州，道經鄱陽湖。湖上有神祠，停蓋游瞻。內雕丁普郎死節臣像，翟姓一神，最居末坐。翟曰：「吾家宗人，何得在下！」遂於上易一座。既而登舟，大風斷帆，桅檣傾側，一家哀號。俄一小舟破浪而來；既近官舟，急挽翟登小舟，於是家人盡登。審視其人，與翟姓神無少異。無何，浪息，尋之已杳。

LXXX. THE STREAM OF CASH.

A CERTAIN gentleman’s servant was one day in his master’s garden, when he beheld a stream of cash flowing by, two or three feet in breadth and of about the same depth. He immediately seized two large handfuls, and then threw himself down on the top of the stream in order to try and secure the rest. However, when he got up he found that it had all flowed away from under him, none being left except what he had got in his two hands.

[“Ah!” says the commentator, “money is properly a circulating medium, and is not intended for a man to lie upon and keep all to himself.”]

錢流

　　沂水劉宗玉云：其僕杜和，偶在園中，見錢流如水，深廣二三尺許。杜驚喜，以兩手滿掬，復偃臥其上。既而起視，則錢已盡去；惟握於手者尚存。

LXXXI. THE INJUSTICE OF HEAVEN.

MR. HSÜ was a magistrate at Shantung. A certain upper chamber of his house was used as a storeroom; but some creature managed so frequently to get in and make havoc among the stores, for which the servants were always being scolded, that at length some of the latter determined to keep watch. By-and-by they saw a huge spider as big as a peck measure, and hurried off to tell their master, who thought it so strange that he gave orders to the servants to feed the insect with cakes. It thus became very tame, and would always come forth when hungry, returning as soon as it had taken enough to eat. Years passed away, and one day Mr. Hsü was consulting his archives, when suddenly the spider appeared and ran under the table. Thinking it was hungry, he bade his servants give it a cake; but the next moment he noticed two snakes, of about the thickness of a chopstick, lying one on each side. The spider drew in its legs as if in mortal fear, and the snakes began to swell out until they were as big round as an egg; at which Mr. Hsü was greatly alarmed, and would have hurried away, when crash! went a peal of thunder, killing every person in the house. Mr. Hsü himself recovered consciousness after a little while, but only to see his wife and servants, seven persons in all, lying dead; and after a month’s illness he, too, departed this life. Now Mr. Hsü was an upright, honourable man, who really had the interests of the people at heart. A subscription was accordingly raised to pay his funeral expenses, and on the day of his burial the air was rent for miles round with cries of weeping and lamentation.

[Hereon the commentator, I Shihshih, makes the following remark:—“That dragons play with pearls I have always regarded as an old woman’s tale. Is it possible, then, that the story is a fact? I have heard, too, that the thunder strikes only the guilty man; and, if so, how could a virtuous official be visited with this dire calamity?”]

龍戲蛛

　　徐公為齊東令。署中有樓，用藏肴餌，往往被物竊食，狼藉於地。家人屢受譙責，因伏伺之。見一蜘蛛，大如斗。駭走白公。公以為異，日遣婢輩投餌焉。蛛益馴，飢輒出依人，飽而後去。積年餘，公偶閱案牘，蛛忽來伏几上。疑其飢，方呼家人取餌；旋見兩蛇夾蛛臥，細裁如箸，蛛爪蜷腹縮，若不勝懼。轉瞬間，蛇暴長，粗於卵。大駭，欲走。巨霆大作，闔家震斃。移時，公甦；夫人及婢僕擊死者七人。公病月餘，尋卒。公為人廉正愛民，柩發之日，民斂錢以送，哭聲滿野。

　　異史氏曰：「龍戲蛛，每意是里巷之訛言耳，乃真有之乎？聞雷霆之擊，必於凶人，奈何以循良之吏，罹此慘毒；天公之憒憒，不已多乎！」

LXXXII. THE SEASERPENT.

A TRADER named Chia was voyaging on the south seas, when one night it suddenly became as light as day on board his ship. Jumping up to see what was the matter, he beheld a huge creature with its body half out of the water, towering up like a hill. Its eyes resembled two suns, and threw a light far and wide; and when the trader asked the boatmen what it was, there was not one who could say. They all crouched down and watched it; and byandby the monster gradually disappeared in the water again, leaving everything in darkness as before. And when they reached port, they found all the people talking about a strange phenomenon of a great light that had appeared in the night, the time of which coincided exactly with the strange scene they themselves had witnessed.

夜明

　　有賈客泛於南海。三更時，舟中大亮似曉。起視，見一巨物，半身出水上，儼若山岳；目如兩日初升，光四射，大地皆明。駭問舟人，並無知者。共伏瞻之。移時，漸縮入水，乃復晦。後至閩中，俱言某夜明而復昏，相傳為異。計其時，則舟中見怪之夜也。

LXXXIII. THE MAGIC MIRROR.

“... BUT if you would really like to have something that has belonged to me,” said she, “you shall.” Whereupon she took out a mirror and gave it to him, saying, “Whenever you want to see me, you must look for me in your books; otherwise I shall not be visible;”—and in a moment she had vanished. Liu went home very melancholy at heart; but when he looked in the mirror, there was Fênghsien, standing with her back to him, gazing, as it were, at some one who was going away, and about a hundred paces from her. He then bethought himself of her injunctions, and settled down to his studies, refusing to receive any visitors; and a few days subsequently, when he happened to look in the mirror, there was Fênghsien, with her face turned towards him, and smiling in every feature. After this, he was always taking out the mirror to look at her; however, in about a month his good resolutions began to disappear, and he once more went out to enjoy himself and waste his time as before. When he returned home and looked in the mirror, Fênghsien seemed to be crying bitterly; and the day after, when he looked at her again, she had her back turned towards him as on the day he received the mirror. He now knew that it was because he had neglected his studies, and forthwith set to work again with all diligence, until in a month’s time she had turned round once again. Henceforward, whenever anything interrupted his progress, Fênghsien’s countenance became sad; but whenever he was getting on well, her sadness was changed to smiles. Night and morning Liu would look at the mirror, regarding it quite in the light of a revered preceptor; and in three years’ time he took his degree in triumph. “Now,” cried he, “I shall be able to look Fênghsien in the face.” And there, sure enough, she was, with her delicately pencilled arched eyebrows, and her teeth just showing between her lips, as happy looking as she could be, when, all of a sudden, she seemed to speak, and Liu heard her say, “A pretty pair we make, I must allow”—and the next moment Fênghsien stood by his side.

鳳仙

　　劉赤水，平樂人，少穎秀。十五入郡庠。父母早亡，遂以游蕩自廢。家不中貲，而性好修飾，衾榻皆精美。一夕，被人招飲，忘滅燭而去。酒數行，始憶之，急返。聞室中小語，伏窺之，見少年擁麗者眠榻上。宅臨貴家廢第，恆多怪異，心知其狐，亦不恐。入而叱曰：「臥榻豈容鼾睡！」二人遑遽，抱衣赤身遁去。遺紫紈袴一，帶上繫針囊。大悅，恐其竊去，藏衾中而抱之。俄一蓬頭婢自門罅入，向劉索取。劉笑要償。婢請遺以酒，不應；贈以金，又不應。婢笑而去。旋返曰：「大姑言：如賜還，當以佳耦為報。」劉問：「伊誰？」曰：「吾家皮姓，大姑小字八仙，共臥者胡郎也；二姑水仙，適富川丁官人；三姑鳳仙，較兩姑尤美，自無不當意者。」劉恐失信，請坐待好音。婢去復返曰：「大姑寄語官人：好事豈能猝合？適與之言，反遭詬厲；但緩時日以待之，吾家非輕諾寡信者。」劉付之。過數日，渺無信息。薄暮，自外歸。閉門甫坐，忽雙扉自啟，兩人以被承女郎，手捉四角而入，曰：「送新人至矣！」笑置榻上而去。近視之，酣睡未醒，酒氣猶芳，頳顏醉態，傾絕人寰。喜極，為之捉足解襪，抱體緩裳。而女已微醒，開目見劉，四肢不能自主，但恨曰：「八仙淫婢賣我矣！」劉狎抱之。女嫌膚冰，微笑曰：「今夕何夕，見此涼人！」劉曰：「子兮子兮，如此涼人何！」遂相歡愛。既而曰：「婢子無恥，玷人床寢，而以妾換袴耶！必小報之！」從此無夕不至，綢繆甚殷。袖中出金釧一枚，曰：「此八仙物也。」又數日，懷繡履一雙來，珠嵌金繡，工巧殊絕，且囑劉暴揚之。劉出誇示親賓。求觀者皆以貲酒為贄，由此奇貨居之。女夜來，作別語。怪問之，答云：「姊以履故恨妾，欲攜家遠去，隔絕我好。」劉懼，願還之。女云：「不必，彼方以此挾妾，如還之，中其機矣。」劉問：「何不獨留？」曰：「父母遠去，一家十餘口，俱託胡郎經紀，若不從去，恐長舌婦造黑白也。」從此不復至。踰二年，思念綦切。偶在途中，遇女郎騎款段馬，老僕鞚之，摩肩過；反啟障紗相窺，丰姿豔絕。頃，一少年後至，曰：「女子何人？似頗佳麗。」劉亟贊之。少年拱手笑曰：「太過獎矣！此即山荊也。」劉惶愧謝過。少年曰：「何妨。但南陽三葛，君得其龍，區區者又何足道！」劉疑其言。少年曰：「君不認竊眠臥榻者耶？」劉始悟為胡。敘僚婿之誼，嘲謔甚歡。少年曰：「岳新歸，將以省覲，可同行否？」劉喜，從入縈山。──山上故有邑人避難之宅──女下馬入。少間，數人出望，曰：「劉官人亦來矣。」入門謁見翁嫗。又一少年先在，靴袍炫美。翁曰：「此富川丁婿。」並揖就坐。少時，酒灸紛綸，談笑頗洽。翁曰：「今日三婿並臨，可稱佳集。又無他人，可喚兒輩來，作一團圞之會。」俄，姊妹俱出。翁命設坐，各傍其婿。八仙見劉，惟掩口而笑；鳳仙輒與嘲弄；水仙貌少亞，而沉重溫克，滿座傾談，惟把酒含笑而已。於是履舄交錯，蘭麝熏人，飲酒樂甚。劉視床頭樂具畢備，遂取玉笛，請為翁壽。翁喜，命善者各執一藝，因而合座爭取；惟丁與鳳仙不取。八仙曰：「丁郎不諳可也；汝寧指屈不伸者？」因以拍板擲鳳仙懷中，便串繁響。翁悅曰：「家人之樂極矣！兒輩俱能歌舞，何不各盡所長？」八仙起，捉水仙曰：「鳳仙從來金玉其音，不敢相勞；我二人可歌『洛妃』一曲。」二人歌舞方已，適婢以金盤進果，都不知其何名。翁曰：「此自真臘攜來，所謂『田婆羅』也。」因掬數枚送丁前。鳳仙不悅曰：「婿豈以貧富為愛憎耶？」翁微哂不言。八仙曰：「阿爹以丁郎異縣，故是客耳。若論長幼，豈獨鳳妹妹有拳大酸婿耶？」鳳仙終不快，解華妝，以鼓拍授婢，唱「破窰」一折，聲淚俱下；既闋，拂袖逕去，一座為之不懽。八仙曰：「婢子喬性猶昔。」乃追之，不知所往。劉無顏，亦辭而歸。至半途，見鳳仙坐路旁，呼與並坐。曰：「君一丈夫，不能為床頭人吐氣耶？黃金屋自在書中，願好為之！」舉足云：「出門匆遽，棘剌破複履矣。所贈物，在身邊否？」劉出之。女取而易之。劉乞其敝者。囅然曰：「君亦大無賴矣！幾見自己衾枕之物，亦要懷藏者？如相見愛，一物可以相贈。」旋出一鏡付之曰：「欲見妾，當於書卷中覓之；不然，相見無期矣。」言已，不見。怊悵而歸。視鏡，則鳳仙背立其中，如望去人於百步之外者。因念所囑，謝客下帷。一日，見鏡中人忽現正面，盈盈欲笑，益重愛之。無人時，輒以共對。月餘，銳志漸衰，游恆忘返。歸見鏡影，慘然若涕；隔日再視，則背立如初矣：始悟為己之廢學也。乃閉戶研讀，晝夜不輟；月餘，則影復向外。自此驗之：每有事荒廢，則其容戚；數日攻苦，則其容笑。於是朝夕懸之，如對師保。如此二年，一舉而捷。喜曰：「今可以對我鳳仙矣！」攬鏡視之，見畫黛彎長，瓠犀微露，喜容可掬，宛在目前。愛極，停睇不已。忽鏡中人笑曰：「『影裏情郎，畫中愛寵』，今之謂矣。」驚喜四顧，則鳳仙已在座右。握手問翁媼起居。曰：「妾別後，不曾歸家，伏處巖穴，聊與君分苦耳。」劉赴宴郡中，女請與俱；共乘而往，人對面不相窺。既而將歸，陰與劉謀，偽為娶於郡也者。女既歸，始出見客，經理家政。人皆驚其美，而不知其狐也。劉屬富川令門人，往謁之。遇丁，殷殷邀至其家，款禮優渥。言：「岳父母近又他徙。內人歸寧，將復。當寄信往，並詣申賀。」劉初疑丁亦狐，及細審邦族，始知富川大賈子也。初，丁自別業暮歸，遇水仙獨步，見其美，微睨之。女請附驥以行。丁喜，載至齋，與同寢處。櫺隙可入，始知為狐。女言：「郎無見疑。妾以君誠篤，故願託之。」丁嬖之。竟不復娶。劉歸，假貴家廣宅，備客燕寢，灑掃光潔。而苦無供帳；隔夜視之，則陳設煥然矣。過數日，果有三十餘人，齎旗采酒禮而至，輿馬繽紛，填溢堦巷。劉揖翁及丁、胡入客舍；鳳仙逆嫗及兩姨入內寢。八仙曰：「婢子今貴，不怨冰人矣。──釧履猶存否？」女搜付之，曰：「履則猶是也，而被千人看破矣。」八仙以履擊背，曰：「撻汝寄於劉郎。」乃投諸火，祝曰：「新時如花開，舊時如花謝；珍重不曾著，姮娥來相借。」水仙亦代祝曰：「曾經籠玉筍，著出萬人稱；若使姮娥見，應憐太瘦生。」鳳仙撥火曰：「夜夜上青天，一朝去所懽，留得纖纖影，遍與世人看。」遂以灰捻柈中，堆作十餘分，望見劉來，托以贈之，但見繡履滿柈，悉如故款。八仙急出，推柈墮地；地上猶有一二隻存者，又伏吹之，其跡始滅。次日，丁以道遠，夫婦先歸。八仙貪與妹戲，翁及胡屢督促之，亭午始出，與眾俱去。初來，儀從過盛，觀者如市。有兩寇窺見麗人，魂魄喪失，因謀劫諸途。偵其離村，尾之而去。相隔不盈一矢，馬極奔，不能及。至一處，兩崖夾道，輿行稍緩；追及之，持刀吼吒，人眾都奔。下馬啟簾，則老嫗坐焉。方疑誤掠其母；纔他顧，而兵傷右臂，頃已被縛。凝視之，崖並非崖，乃平樂城門也；輿中則李進士母，自鄉中歸耳。一寇後至，亦被斷馬足而縶之。門丁執送太守，一訊而伏。時有大盜未獲，詰之，即其人也。明春，劉及第。鳳仙以招禍，故悉辭內戚之賀。劉亦更不他娶。及為郎官，納妾，生二子。

　　異史氏曰：「嗟乎！冷煖之態，仙凡固無殊哉！『少不努力，老大徒傷』。惜無好勝佳人，作鏡影悲笑耳。吾願恆河沙數仙人，並遣嬌女昏嫁人間，則貧窮海中，少苦眾生矣。」

LXXXIV. COURAGE TESTED.

MR. TUNG was a Hsüchou man, very fond of playing broadsword, and a light-hearted, devil-may-care fellow, who was often involving himself in trouble. One day he fell in with a traveller who was riding on a mule and going the same way as himself; whereupon they entered into conversation, and began to talk to each other about feats of strength and so on. The traveller said his name was T‘ung, and that he belonged to Liaoyang; that he had been twenty years away from home, and had just returned from beyond the sea. “And I venture to say,” cried Tung, “that in your wanderings on the Four Seas you have seen a great many people; but have you seen any supernaturally clever ones?” T‘ung asked him to what he alluded; and then Tung explained what his own particular hobby was, adding how much he would like to learn from them any tricks in the art of broadsword. “Supernatural,” replied the traveller, “are to be found everywhere. It needs but that a man should be a loyal subject and a filial son for him to know all that the super naturals know.” “Right you are, indeed!” cried Tung, as he drew a short sword from his belt, and, tapping the blade with his fingers, began to accompany it with a song. He then cut down a tree that was by the wayside, to shew T‘ung how sharp it was; at which T‘ung smoothed his beard and smiled, begging to be allowed to have a look at the weapon. Tung handed it to him, and, when he had turned it over two or three times, he said, “This is a very inferior piece of steel; now, though I know nothing about broadsword myself, I have a weapon which is really of some use.” He then drew from beneath his coat a sword of a foot or so in length, and with it he began to pare pieces off Tung’s sword, which seemed as soft as a melon, and which he cut quite away like a horse’s hoof. Tung was greatly astonished, and borrowed the other’s sword to examine it, returning it after carefully wiping the blade. He then invited T‘ung to his house, and made him stay the night; and, after begging him to explain the mystery of his sword, began to nurse his leg and sit listening respectfully without saying a word. It was already pretty late, when suddenly there was a sound of scuffling next door, where Tung’s father lived; and, on putting his ear to the wall, he heard an angry voice saying, “Tell your son to come here at once, and then I will spare you.” This was followed by other sounds of beating and a continued groaning, in a voice which Tung knew to be his father’s. He therefore seized a spear, and was about to rush forth, but T‘ung held him back, saying, “You’ll be killed for a certainty if you go. Let us think of some other plan.” Tung asked what plan he could suggest; to which the other replied, “The robbers are killing your father: there is no help for you; but as you have no brothers, just go and tell your wife and children what your last wishes are, while I try and rouse the servants.” Tung agreed to this, and ran in to tell his wife, who clung to him and implored him not to go, until at length all his courage had ebbed away, and he went upstairs with her to get his bow and arrows ready to resist the robbers’ attack. At that juncture he heard the voice of his friend T‘ung, outside on the eaves of the house, saying, with a laugh, “All right; the robbers have gone;” but on lighting a candle, he could see nothing of him. He then stole out to the front door, where he met his father with a lantern in his hand, coming in from a party at a neighbour’s house; and the whole courtyard was covered with the ashes of burnt grass, whereby he knew that T‘ung the traveller was himself a supernatural.

佟客

　　董生，徐州人。好擊劍，每慷慨自負。偶於途中遇一客，跨蹇同行。與之語，談吐豪邁。詰其姓字，云：「遼陽佟姓。」問：「何往？」曰：「余出門二十年，適自海外歸耳。」董曰：「君遨遊四海，閱人綦多，曾見異人否？佟曰：「異人何等？」董乃自述所好，恨不得異人之傳。佟曰：「異人何地無之，要必忠臣孝子，始得傳其術也。」董又毅然自許；即出佩劍，彈之而歌；又斬路側小樹，以矜其利。佟掀髯微笑，因便借觀。董授之。展玩一過，曰：「此甲鐵所鑄，為汗臭所蒸，最為下品。僕雖未聞劍術，然有一劍，頗可用。」遂於衣底出短刃尺許，以削董劍，脆如瓜瓠，應手斜斷，如馬蹄。董駭極，亦請過手，再三拂拭而後返之。邀佟至家，堅留信宿。叩以劍法，謝不知。董按膝雄談，惟敬聽而已。更既深，忽聞隔院紛拏。隔院為生父居，心驚疑。近壁凝聽，但聞人作怒聲曰：「教汝子速出即刑，便赦汝！」少頃，似加搒掠，呻吟不絕者，真其父也。生捉戈欲往。佟止之曰：「此去恐無生理，宜審萬全。」生皇然請教。佟曰：「盜坐名相索，必將甘心焉。君無他骨肉，宜囑後事於妻子；我啟戶，為君警廝僕。」生諾，入告其妻。妻牽衣泣。生壯念頓消，遂共登樓上，尋弓覓矢，以備盜攻。倉皇未已，聞佟在樓簷上笑曰：「賊幸去矣。」燭之已杳。逡巡出，則見翁赴鄰飲，籠燭方歸；惟庭前多編菅遺灰焉。乃知佟異人也。

　　異史氏曰：「忠孝，人之血性；古來臣子而不能死君父者，其初豈遂無提戈壯往時哉，要皆一轉念誤之耳。昔解縉與方孝孺相約以死，而卒食其言；安知矢約歸後，不聽床頭人嗚泣哉？邑有快役某，每數日不歸，妻遂與里中無賴通。一日歸，值少年自房中出，大疑，苦詰妻。妻不服。既於床頭得少年遺物，妻窘無詞，惟長跪哀乞。某怒甚，擲以繩，逼令自縊。妻請妝服而死，許之。妻乃入室理妝，某自酌以待之，呵叱頻催。俄妻炫服出，含涕拜曰：『君果忍令奴死耶？』某盛氣咄之。妻返走入房，方將結帶，某擲盞呼曰：『咍，返矣！一頂綠頭巾，或不能壓人死耳。』遂為夫婦如初。此亦大紳者類也，一笑。」

LXXXV. THE DISEMBODIED FRIEND.

MR. CH‘ÊN, M.A., of Shunt‘ien Fu, when a boy of sixteen, went to school at a Buddhist temple. There were a great many scholars besides himself, and, among others, one named Ch‘u, who said he came from Shantung. This Ch‘u was a very hardworking fellow; he never seemed to be idle, and actually slept in the schoolroom, not going home at all. Ch‘ên became much attached to him, and one day asked him why he never went away. “Well, you see,” replied Ch‘u, “my people are very poor, and can hardly afford to pay for my schooling; but, by dint of working half the night, two of my days are equal to three of anybody else’s.” Thereupon Ch‘ên said he would bring his own bed to the school, and that they would sleep there together; to which Ch‘u replied that the teaching they got wasn’t worth much, and that they would do better by putting themselves under a certain old scholar named Lü. This they were easily able to do, as the arrangement at the temple was monthly, and at the end of each month anyone was free to go or to come. So off they went to this Mr. Lü, a man of considerable literary attainments, who had found himself in Shunt‘ien Fu without a cash in his pocket, and was accordingly obliged to take pupils. He was delighted at getting two additions to his number and, Ch‘u showing himself an apt scholar, the two soon became very great friends, sleeping in the same room and eating at the same table. At the end of the month Ch‘u asked for leave of absence, and, to the astonishment of all, ten days elapsed without anything being heard of him. It then chanced that Ch‘ên went to the T‘ienning temple, and there he saw Ch‘u under one of the verandahs, occupied in cutting wood for Lucifer matches. The latter was much disconcerted by the arrival of Ch‘ên, who asked him why he had given up his studies; so the latter took him aside, and explained that he was so poor as to be obliged to work half a month to scrape together funds enough for his next month’s schooling. “You come along back with me,” cried Ch‘ên, on hearing this, “I will arrange for the payment,” which Ch‘u immediately consented to do on condition that Ch‘ên would keep the whole thing a profound secret. Now Ch‘ên’s father was a wealthy tradesman, and from his till Ch‘ên abstracted money wherewith to pay for Ch‘u; and by-and-by, when his father found him out, he confessed why he had done so. Thereupon Ch‘ên’s father called him a fool, and would not let him resume his studies; at which Ch‘u was much hurt, and would have left the school too, but that old Mr. Lü discovered what had taken place, and gave him the money to return to Ch‘ên’s father, keeping him still at the school, and treating him quite like his own son. So Ch‘ên studied no more, but whenever he met Ch‘u he always asked him to join in some refreshment at a restaurant, Ch‘u invariably refusing, but yielding at length to his entreaties, being himself loth to break off their old acquaintanceship.

Thus two years passed away, when Ch‘ên’s father died, and Ch‘ên went back to his books under the guidance of old Mr. Lü, who was very glad to see such determination. Of course Ch‘ên was now far behind Ch‘u; and in about six months Lü’s son arrived, having begged his way in search of his father, so Mr. Lü gave up his school and returned home with a purse which his pupils had made up for him, Ch‘u adding nothing thereto but his tears. At parting, Mr. Lü advised Ch‘ên to take Ch‘u as his tutor, and this he did, establishing him comfortably in the house with him. The examination was very shortly to commence, and Ch‘ên felt convinced that he should not get through; but Ch‘u said he thought he should be able to manage the matter for him. On the appointed day he introduced Ch‘ên to a gentleman who he said was a cousin of his, named Liu, and asked Ch‘ên to accompany this cousin, which Ch‘ên was just proceeding to do when Ch‘u pulled him back from behind, and he would have fallen down but that the cousin pulled him up again, and then, after having scrutinized his appearance, carried him off to his own house. There being no ladies there, Ch‘ên was put into the inner apartments; and a few days afterwards Liu said to him, “A great many people will be at the gardens today; let us go and amuse ourselves awhile, and afterwards I will send you home again.” He then gave orders that a servant should proceed on ahead with tea and wine, and by-and-by they themselves went, and were soon in the thick of the fête. Crossing over a bridge, they saw beneath an old willow tree a little painted skiff, and were soon on board, engaged in freely passing round the wine. However, finding this a little dull, Liu bade his servant go and see if Miss Li, the famous singing girl, was at home; and in a few minutes the servant returned bringing Miss Li with him. Ch‘ên had met her before, and so they at once exchanged greetings, while Liu begged her to be good enough to favour them with a song. Miss Li, who seemed labouring under a fit of melancholy, forthwith began a funeral dirge; at which Ch‘ên was not much pleased, and observed that such a theme was hardly suitable to the occasion. With a forced smile, Miss Li changed her key, and gave them a love song; whereupon Ch‘ên seized her hand, and said, “There’s that song of the Huansha river, which you sang once before; I have read it over several times, but have quite forgotten the words.” Then Miss Li began—

“Eyes overflowing with tears, she sits gazing into her glass,

Lifting the bamboo screen, one of her comrades approaches;

She bends her head and seems intent on her bowlike slippers,

And forces her eyebrows to arch themselves into a smile.

With her scarlet sleeve she wipes the tears from her perfumed cheek,

In fear and trembling lest they should guess the thoughts that o’erwhelm her.”

Ch‘ên repeated this over several times, until at length the skiff stopped, and they passed through a long verandah, where a great many verses had been inscribed on the walls, to which Ch‘ên at once proceeded to add a stanza of his own. Evening was now coming on, and Liu remarked that the candidates would be just about leaving the examination hall; so he escorted him back to his own home, and there left him. The room was dark, and there was no one with him; but by-and-by the servants ushered in some one whom at first he took to be Ch‘u. However, he soon saw that it was not Ch‘u, and in another moment the stranger had fallen against him and knocked him down. “Master’s fainted!” cried the servants, as they ran to pick him up; and then Ch‘ên discovered that the one who had fallen down was really no other than himself. On getting up, he saw Ch‘u standing by his side; and when they had sent away the servants the latter said, “Don’t be alarmed: I am nothing more than a disembodied spirit. My time for reappearing on earth is long overdue, but I could not forget your great kindness to me, and accordingly I have remained under this form in order to assist in the accomplishment of your wishes. The three bouts are over, and your ambition will be gratified.” Ch‘ên then inquired if Ch‘u could assist him in like manner for his doctor’s degree; to which the latter replied, “Alas! the luck descending to you from your ancestors is not equal to that. They were a niggardly lot, and unfit for the posthumous honours you would thus confer on them.” Ch‘ên next asked him whither he was going; and Ch‘u replied that he hoped, through the agency of his cousin, who was a clerk in Purgatory, to be born again in old Mr. Lü’s family. They then bade each other adieu; and, when morning came, Ch‘ên set off to call on Miss Li, the singing girl; but on reaching her house he found that she had been dead some days. He walked on to the gardens, and there he saw traces of verses that had been written on the walls, and evidently rubbed out, so as to be hardly decipherable. In a moment it flashed across him that the verses and their composers belonged to the other world. Towards evening Ch‘u reappeared in high spirits, saying that he had succeeded in his design, and had come to wish Ch‘ên a long farewell. Holding out his open palms, he requested Ch‘ên to write the word Ch‘u on each; and then, after refusing to take a parting cup, he went away, telling Ch‘ên that the examinationlist would soon be out, and that they would meet again before long. Ch‘ên brushed away his tears and escorted him to the door, where a man, who had been waiting for him, laid his hand on Ch‘u’s head and pressed it downwards until Ch‘u was perfectly flat. The man then put him in a sack and carried him off on his back. A few days afterwards the list came out, and, to his great joy, Ch‘ên found his name among the successful candidates; whereupon he immediately started off to visit his old tutor, Mr. Lü. Now Mr. Lü’s wife had had no children for ten years, being about fifty years of age, when suddenly she gave birth to a son, who was born with both fists doubled up so that no one could open them. On his arrival Ch‘ên begged to see the child, and declared that inside its hands would be found written the word Ch‘u. Old Mr. Lü laughed at this; but no sooner had the child set eyes on Ch‘ên than both its fists opened spontaneously, and there was the word as Ch‘ên had said. The story was soon told, and Ch‘ên went home, after making a handsome present to the family; and later on, when Mr. Lü went up for his doctor’s degree and stayed at Ch‘ên’s house, his son was thirteen years old, and had already matriculated as a candidate for literary honours.

褚生

　　順天陳孝廉，十六七歲時，嘗從塾師讀於僧寺，徒侶甚繁。內有褚生，自言山東人，攻苦講求，略不暇息；且寄宿齋中，未嘗一見其歸。陳與最善，因詰之。答曰：「僕家貧，辦束金不易，即不能惜寸陰，而加以夜半，則我之二日，可當人三日。」陳感其言，欲攜榻來與共寢。褚止之曰：「且勿，且勿！我視先生，學非吾師也。阜城門有呂先生，年雖耄，可師，請與俱遷之。」──蓋都中設帳者多以月計，月終束金完，任其留止。於是兩生同詣呂。呂，越之宿儒，落魄不能歸，因授童蒙，實非其志也。得兩生甚喜；而褚又甚惠，過目輒了，故尤器重之。兩人情好款密，晝同几，夜亦同榻。月既終，褚忽假歸，十餘日不復至。共疑之。一日，陳以故至天寧寺，遇褚廊下，劈檾淬硫，作火具焉。見陳，忸怩不安。陳問：「何遽廢讀？」褚握手請間，戚然曰：「貧無以遺先生，必半月販，始能一月讀。」陳感慨良久，曰：「但往讀，自合極力。」命從人收其業，同歸塾。戒陳勿洩，但託故以告先生。陳父固肆賈，居物致富，陳輒竊父金，代褚遺師。父以亡金責陳，陳實告之。父以為癡，遂使廢學。褚大慚，別師欲去。呂知其故，讓之曰：「子既貧，胡不早告？」乃悉以金返陳父，止褚讀如故，與共饔飧，若子焉。陳雖不入館，每邀褚過酒家飲。褚固以避嫌不往；而陳要之彌堅，往往泣下，褚不忍絕，遂與往來無間。逾二年，陳父死，復求受業。呂感其誠，納之；而廢學既久，較褚懸絕矣。居半年，呂長子自越來，丐食尋父。門人輩斂金助裝，褚惟灑涕依戀而已。呂臨別，囑陳師事褚。陳從之，館褚於家。未幾，入邑庠，以「遺才」應試。陳慮不能終幅，褚請代之。至期，褚偕一人來，云是表兄劉天若，囑陳暫從去。陳方出，褚忽自後曳之，身欲踣，劉急挽之而去。覽眺一過，相攜宿於其家。家無婦女，即館客於內舍。居數日，忽已中秋。劉曰：「今日李皇親園中，游人甚夥，當往一豁積悶，相便送君歸。」使人荷茶鼎、酒具而往。但見水肆梅亭，喧啾不得入。過水關，則老柳之下，橫一畫橈，相將登舟。酒數行，苦寂。劉顧僮曰：「梅花館近有新姬，不知在家否？」僮去少時，與姬俱至，蓋勾欄李遏雲也。李，都中名妓，工詩善歌，陳曾與友人飲其家，故識之。相見，略道溫涼。姬戚戚有憂容。劉命之歌，為歌「蒿里」。陳不悅，曰：「主客即不當卿意，何至對生人歌死曲？」姬起謝，強顏歡笑，乃歌豔曲。陳喜，捉腕曰：「卿向日『浣溪紗』讀之數過，今並忘之。」姬吟曰：「淚眼盈盈對鏡臺，開簾忽見小姑來，低頭轉側看弓鞋。強解綠蛾開笑面，頻將紅袖拭香腮，小心猶恐被人猜。」陳反覆數四。已而泊舟，過長廊，見壁上題詠甚多，即命筆記詞其上。日已薄暮，劉曰：「闈中人將出矣。」遂送陳歸。入門，即別去。陳見室暗無人，俄延間，褚已入門；細審之，卻非褚生。方疑，客遽近身而仆。家人曰：「公子憊矣！」共扶拽之。轉覺仆者非他，即己也。既起，見褚生在旁，惚惚若夢。屏人而研究之。褚曰：「告之勿驚：我實鬼也。久當投生，所以因循於此者，高誼所不能忘，故附君體，以代捉刀；三場畢，此願了矣。」陳復求赴春闈。曰：「君先世福薄，慳吝之骨，誥贈所不堪也。」問：「將何適？」曰：「呂先生與僕有父子之分，繫念常不能置。表兄為冥司典簿，求白地府主者，或當有說。」遂別而去。陳異之。天明，訪李姬，將問以泛舟之事；則姬死數日矣。又至皇親園，見題句猶存，而淡墨依稀，若將磨滅。始悟題者為魂，作者為鬼。至夕，褚喜而至，曰：「所謀幸成，敬與君別。」遂伸兩掌，命陳書褚字於上以誌之。陳將置酒為餞，搖首曰：「勿須。君如不忘舊好，放榜後，勿憚修阻。」陳揮涕送之。見一人伺候於門；褚方依依，其人以手按其頂，隨手而匾，掬入囊，負之而去。過數日，陳果捷。于是治裝如越。呂妻斷育幾十年，五旬餘，忽生一子，兩手握固不可開。陳至，請相見，便謂掌中當有文曰「褚」。呂不深信。兒見陳，十指自開，視之果然。驚問其故，具告之。共相歡異。陳厚貽之，乃返。後呂以歲貢，廷試入都，舍於陳；則兒十三歲，入泮矣。

　　異史氏曰：「呂老教門人，而不知自教其子。嗚呼！作善於人，而降祥於己，一間也哉！褚生者，未以身報師，先以魂報友，其志其行，可貫日月，豈以其鬼故奇之與！」

LXXXVI. THE CLOTH MERCHANT.

A CERTAIN cloth merchant went to Ch‘ingchou, where he happened to stroll into an old temple, all tumbledown and in ruins. He was lamenting over this sad state of things, when a priest who stood by observed that a devout believer like himself could hardly do better than put the place into repair, and thus obtain favour in the eyes of Buddha. This the merchant consented to do; whereupon the priest invited him to walk into the private quarters of the temple, and treated him with much courtesy; but he went on to propose that our friend the merchant should also undertake the general ornamentation of the place both inside and out. The latter declared he could not afford the expense, and the priest began to get very angry, and urged him so strongly that at last the merchant, in terror, promised to give all the money he had. After this he was preparing to go away, but the priest detained him, saying, “You haven’t given the money of your own free will, and consequently you’ll be owing me a grudge: I can’t do better than make an end of you at once.” Thereupon he seized a knife, and refused to listen to all the cloth merchant’s entreaties, until at length the latter asked to be allowed to hang himself, to which the priest consented; and, showing him into a dark room, told him to make haste about it.

At this juncture, a Tartar General happened to pass by the temple; and from a distance, through a breach in the old wall, he saw a damsel in a red dress pass into the priest’s quarters. This roused his suspicions, and dismounting from his horse, he entered the temple and searched high and low, but without discovering anything. The dark room abovementioned was locked and double barred, and the priest refused to open it, saying the place was haunted. The General in a rage burst open the door, and there beheld the cloth merchant hanging from a beam. He cut him down at once, and in a short time he was brought round and told the General the whole story. They then searched for the damsel, but she was nowhere to be found, having been nothing more than a divine manifestation. The General cut off the priest’s head and restored the cloth merchant’s property to him, after which the latter put the temple in thorough repair and kept it well supplied with lights and incense ever afterwards.

Mr. Chao, M.A., told me this story with all its details.

布商

布商某，至青州境，偶入廢寺，見其院宇零落，歎悼不已。僧在側曰：「今如有善信，暫起山門，亦佛面之光。」客慨然自任。僧喜，邀入方丈，款待殷勤。即而舉內外殿閣，並請裝修；客辭以不能。僧固強之，詞色悍怒。客懼，請即傾囊，於是倒裝而出，悉授僧。將行，僧止之曰：「君竭貲實非所願，得毋甘心於我乎？不如先之。」遂握刀相向。客哀求切，弗聽；請自經，許之。逼置暗室而迫促之。適有防海將軍經寺外，遙自缺牆外望見一紅裳女子入僧舍，疑之。下馬入寺，前後冥搜，竟不得。至暗室所，嚴扃雙扉，僧不肯開，託以妖異。將軍怒，斬關入，則見客縊梁上。救之，片時復甦，詰得其情。又械問女子所在，實則烏有，蓋神佛現化也。殺僧，財物仍以歸客。客益募修廟宇，由此香火大盛。趙孝廉豐原言之最悉。

LXXXVII. A STRANGE COMPANION.

HAN KUNGFU, of Yüch‘êng, told me that he was one day travelling along a road with a man of his village, named P‘êng, when all of a sudden the latter disappeared, leaving his mule to jog along with an empty saddle. At the same moment, Mr. Han heard his voice calling for assistance, and apparently proceeding from inside one of the panniers strapped across the mule’s back; and on looking closely, there indeed he was in one of the panniers, which, however, did not seem to be at all displaced by his weight. On trying to get him out the mouth of the pannier closed itself tightly; and it was only when he cut it open with a knife that he saw P‘êng curled up in it like a dog. He then helped him out, and asked him how he managed to get in; but this he was unable to say. It further appeared that his family was under fox influence, many strange things of this kind having happened before.

彭二掙

　　禹城韓公甫自言：「與邑人彭二掙並行於途，忽回首不見之，惟空蹇隨行。但聞號救甚急，細聽則在被囊中。近視囊內纍然，雖則偏重，亦不得墮。欲出之，則囊口縫紉甚密；以刀斷線，始見彭犬臥其中，即出，問何以人，亦茫不自知。蓋其家有狐為祟，事如此類甚多云。」

LXXXVIII. SPIRITUALISTIC SÉANCES.

IT is customary in Shantung, when any one is sick, for the womenfolk to engage an old sorceress or medium, who strums on a tambourine and performs certain mysterious antics. This custom obtains even more in the capital, where young ladies of the best families frequently organize such séances among themselves. On a table in the hall they spread out a profusion of wine and meat, and burn huge candles which make the place as light as day. Then the sorceress, shortening her skirts, stands on one leg and performs the shangyang, while two of the others support her, one on each side. All this time she is chattering unintelligible sentences, something between a song and a prayer, the words being confused but uttered in a sort of tune; while the hall resounds with the thunder of drums, enough to stun a person, with which her vaticinations are mixed up and lost. By-and-by her head begins to droop, and her eyes to look aslant; and but for her two supporters she would inevitably fall to the ground. Suddenly she stretches forth her neck and bounds several feet into the air, upon which the other women regard her in terror, saying, “The spirits have come to eat;” and immediately all the candles are blown out and everything is in total darkness. Thus they remain for about a quarter of an hour, afraid to speak a word, which in any case would not be heard through the din, until at length the sorceress calls out the personal name of the head of the family and some others; whereupon they immediately relight the candles and hurry up to ask if the reply of the spirits is favourable or otherwise. They then see that every scrap of the food and every drop of the wine has disappeared. Meanwhile, they watch the old woman’s expression, whereby they can tell if the spirits are well disposed; and each one asks her some question, to which she as promptly replies. Should there be any unbelievers among the party, the spirits are at once aware of their presence; and the old sorceress, pointing her finger at such a one, cries out, “Disrespectful mocker! where are your trousers?” upon which the mocker alluded to looks down, and lo! her trousers are gone—gone to the top of a tree in the courtyard, where they will subsequently be found.

Manchu women and girls, especially, are firm believers in spiritualism. On the slightest provocation they consult their medium, who comes into the room gorgeously dressed, and riding on an imitation horse or tiger. In her hand she holds a long spear, with which she mounts the couch and postures in an extraordinary manner, the animal she rides snorting or roaring fiercely all the time. Some call her Kuan Ti, others Chang Fei, and others again Chou Kung, from her terribly martial aspect, which strikes fear into all beholders. And should any daring fellow try to peep in while the séance is going on, out of the window darts the spear, transfixes his hat, and draws it off his head into the room, while women and girls, young and old, hop round one after the other like geese, on one leg, without seeming to get the least fatigued.

跳神

濟俗：民間有病者，閨中以神卜。倩老巫擊鐵環單面鼓，娑婆作態，名曰「跳神」。而此俗都中尤盛。良家少婦，時自為之。堂中肉於案，酒於盆，甚設几上。燒巨燭，明於晝。婦束短幅裙，屈一足，作「商羊舞」。兩人捉臂，左右扶掖之。婦刺刺瑣絮，似歌，又似祝；字多寡參差，無律帶腔。室數鼓亂撾如雷，蓬蓬聒人耳。婦吻闢翕，雜鼓聲，不甚辨了。既而首垂，目斜睨；立全須人，失扶則仆。旋忽伸頸巨躍，離地尺有咫。室中諸女子，凜然愕顧曰：「祖宗來喫食矣。」便一噓，吹燈滅，內外冥黑。人惵息立暗中，無敢交一語；語亦不得聞，鼓聲亂也。食頃，聞婦厲聲呼翁姑及夫嫂小字，始共爇燭，傴僂問休咎。視尊中，盎中，案中，都復空空。望顏色，察嗔喜。肅肅羅問之，答若響。中有腹誹者，神已知，便指某姍笑我，大不敬，將褫汝袴。誹者自顧，瑩然已裸，輒於門外樹頭覓得之。滿洲婦女，奉事尤虔。小有疑，必以決。時嚴妝，騎假虎假馬，執長兵，舞榻上，名曰「跳虎神」。馬虎勢作威怒，尸者聲傖儜。或言關、張、玄壇，不一號。赫氣慘凜，尤能畏怖人。有丈夫穴窗來窺，輒被長兵破窗刺帽，挑入去。一家媼媳姊若妹，森森蹜蹜，雁行立，無歧念，無懈骨。

LXXXIX. THE MYSTERIOUS HEAD.

SEVERAL traders who were lodging at an inn in Peking, occupied a room which was divided from the adjoining apartment by a partition of boards from which a piece was missing, leaving an aperture about as big as a basin. Suddenly a girl’s head appeared through the opening, with very pretty features and nicely dressed hair; and the next moment an arm, as white as polished jade. The traders were much alarmed, and, thinking it was the work of devils, tried to seize the head, which, however, was quickly drawn in again out of their reach. This happened a second time, and then, as they could see no body belonging to the head, one of them took a knife in his hand and crept up against the partition underneath the hole. In a little while the head reappeared, when he made a chop at it and cut it off, the blood spurting out all over the floor and wall. The traders hurried off to tell the landlord, who immediately reported the matter to the authorities, taking the head with him, and the traders were forthwith arrested and examined; but the magistrate could make nothing of the case, and, as no one appeared for the prosecution, the accused, after about six months’ incarceration, were accordingly released, and orders were given for the girl’s head to be buried.

美人首

　　諸商寓居京舍。舍與鄰屋相連，中隔板壁；板有松節脫處，穴如琖。忽女子探首入，挽鳳髻，絕美；旋伸一臂，潔白如玉。眾駭其妖，欲捉之，已縮去。少頃，又至，但隔壁不見其身。奔之，則又去之。一商操刀伏壁下。俄首出，暴決之，應手而落，血濺塵土。眾驚告主人。主人懼，以其首首焉。逮諸商

XC. THE SPIRIT OF THE HILLS.

A MAN named Li, of I-tu, was once crossing the hills when he came upon a number of persons sitting on the ground engaged in drinking. As soon as they saw Li they begged him to join them, and vied with each other in filling his cup. Meanwhile, he looked about him and noticed that the various trays and dishes contained all kinds of costly food; the wine only seemed to him a little rough on the palate. In the middle of their fun up came a stranger with a face about three feet long and a very tall hat; whereupon the others were very much alarmed, and cried out, “The hill spirit! the hill spirit!” running away in all directions as fast as they could go. Li hid himself in a hole in the ground; and when by-and-by he peeped out to see what had happened, the wine and food had disappeared, and there was nothing there but a few dirty potsherds and some pieces of broken tiles with efts and lizards crawling over them.

山神

　　益都李會斗，偶山行，值數人籍地飲。見李至，讙然並起，曳入座，競觴之。視其柈饌，雜陳珍錯。移時，飲甚懽；但酒味薄濇。忽遙有一人來，面狹長，可二三尺許；冠之高細稱是。眾驚曰：「山神至矣！」即都紛紛四去。李亦伏匿坎窞中。既而起視，則肴酒一無所有，惟有破陶器貯溲浡，瓦片上盛晰蜴數枚而已。

XCI. INGRATITUDE PUNISHED.

K‘U TAYU was a native of the Yang district, and managed to get a military appointment under the command of Tsu Shushun. The latter treated him most kindly, and finally sent him as Major General of some troops by which he was then trying to establish the dynasty of the usurping Chows. K‘u soon perceived that the game was lost, and immediately turned his forces upon Tsu Shushun, whom he succeeded in capturing, after Tsu had been wounded in the hand, and whom he at once forwarded as a prisoner to headquarters. That night he dreamed that the Judge of Purgatory appeared to him, and, reproaching him with his base ingratitude, bade the devil lictors seize him and scald his feet in a cauldron of boiling oil. K‘u then woke up with a start, and found that his feet were very sore and painful; and in a short time they swelled up, and his toes dropped off. Fever set in, and in his agony he shrieked out, “Ungrateful wretch that I was indeed,” and fell back and expired.

厙將軍

　　厙大有，字君實，漢中洋縣人。以武舉隸祖述舜麾下。祖厚遇之，屢蒙拔擢，遷偽周總戎。後覺大勢既去，潛以兵乘祖。祖格拒傷手，因就縛之，納款於總督蔡。至都，夢至冥司，冥王怒其不義，命鬼以沸油澆其足。既醒，足痛不可忍。後腫潰，指盡墮。又益之瘧。輒呼曰：「我誠負義！」遂死。

　　異史氏曰：「事偽朝固不足言忠；然國士庸人，因知為報，賢豪之自命宜爾也。是誠可以惕天下之人臣而懷二心者矣。」

XCII. SMELLING ESSAYS.

NOW as they wandered about the temple they came upon an old blind priest sitting under the verandah, engaged in selling medicines and prescribing for patients. “Ah!” cried Sung, “there is an extraordinary man who is well versed in the arts of composition;” and immediately he sent back to get the essay they had just been reading, in order to obtain the old priest’s opinion as to its merits. At the same moment up came their friend from Yühang, and all three went along together. Wang began by addressing him as “Professor;” whereupon the priest, who thought the stranger had come to consult him as a doctor, inquired what might be the disease from which he was suffering. Wang then explained what his mission was; upon which the priest smiled and said, “Who’s been telling you this nonsense? How can a man with no eyes discuss with you the merits of your compositions?” Wang replied by asking him to let his ears do duty for his eyes; but the priest answered that he would hardly have patience to sit out Wang’s three sections, amounting perhaps to some two thousand and more words. “However,” added he, “if you like to burn it, I’ll try what I can do with my nose.” Wang complied, and burnt the first section there and then; and the old priest, snuffing up the smoke, declared that it wasn’t such a bad effort, and finally gave it as his opinion that Wang would probably succeed at the examination. The young scholar from Yühang didn’t believe that the old priest could really tell anything by these means, and forthwith proceeded to burn an essay by one of the old masters; but the priest no sooner smelt the smoke than he cried out, “Beautiful indeed! beautiful indeed! I do enjoy this. The light of genius and truth is evident here.” The Yühang scholar was greatly astonished at this, and began to burn an essay of his own; whereupon the priest said, “I had had but a taste of that one; why change so soon to another?” “The first paragraph,” replied the young man, “was by a friend; the rest is my own composition.” No sooner had he uttered these words than the old priest began to retch violently, and begged that he might have no more, as he was sure it would make him sick. The Yühang scholar was much abashed at this, and went away; but in a few days the list came out and his name was among the successful ones, while Wang’s was not. He at once hurried off to tell the old priest, who, when he heard the news, sighed and said, “I may be blind with my eyes but I am not so with my nose, which I fear is the case with the examiners. Besides,” added he, “I was talking to you about composition: I said nothing about destiny.”

司文郎

　　平陽王平子，赴試北闈，賃居報國寺。寺中有餘杭生先在，王以比屋居，投刺焉。生不之答。朝夕遇之，多無狀。王怒其狂悖，交往遂絕。一日，有少年遊寺中，白服裙帽，望之傀然。近與接談，言語諧妙。心愛敬之。展問邦族，云：「登州宋姓。」因命蒼頭設座，相對噱談。餘杭生適過，共起遜坐。生居然上座，更不撝挹。卒然問宋：「爾亦入闈者耶？」答曰：「非也。駑駘之才，無志騰驤久矣。」又問：「何省？」宋告之。生曰：「竟不進取，足知高明。山左、右並無一字通者。」宋曰：「北人固少通者，而不通者未必是小生；南人固多通者，然通者亦未必是足下。」言已，鼓掌；王和之，因而鬨堂。生慚忿，軒眉攘腕而大言曰：「敢當前命題，一校文藝乎？」宋他顧而哂曰：「有何不敢！」便趨寓所，出經授王。王隨手一翻，指曰：「『闕黨童子將命。』」生起，求筆札。宋曳之曰：「口占可也。我破已成：『於賓客往來之地，而見一無所知之人焉。』」王捧腹大笑。生怒曰：「全不能文，徒事嫚罵，何以為人！」王力為排難，請另命佳題。又翻曰：「『殷有三仁焉。』」宋立應曰：「三子者不同道，其趨一也。夫一者何也？曰：仁也。君子亦仁而已矣，何必同？」生遂不作，起曰：「其為人也小有才。」遂去。王以此益重宋。邀入寓室，款言移晷，盡出所作質宋。宋流覽絕疾，踰刻已盡百首。曰：「君亦沉深於此道者；然命筆時，無求必得之念，而尚有冀倖得之心，即此，已落下乘。」遂取閱過者一一詮說。王大悅，師事之。使庖人以蔗糖作水角。宋啗而甘之，曰：「生平未解此味，煩異日更一作也。」由此相得甚懽。宋三五日輒一至，王必為之設水角焉。餘杭生時一遇之，雖不甚傾談，而傲睨之氣頓減。一日，以窗藝示宋。宋見諸友圈贊已濃，目一過，推置案頭，不作一語。生疑其未閱，復請之。答已覽竟。生又疑其不解。宋曰：「有何難解？但不佳耳！」生曰：「一覽丹黃，何知不佳？」宋便誦其文，如夙讀者，且誦且訾。生跼蹐汗流，不言而去。移時，宋去，生入，堅請王作。王拒之。生強搜得，見文多圈點，笑曰：「此大似水角子！」王故樸訥，靦然而已。次日，宋至，王具以告。宋怒曰：「我謂『南人不復反矣』，傖楚何敢乃爾！必當有以報之！」王力陳輕薄之戒以勸之，宋深感佩。既而場後，以文示宋，宋頗相許。偶與涉歷殿閣，見一瞽僧坐廊下，設藥賣醫。宋訝曰：「此奇人也！最能知文，不可不一請教。」因命歸寓取文。遇餘杭生，遂與俱來。王呼師而參之。僧疑其問醫者，便詰症候。王具白請教之意。僧笑曰：「是誰多口？無目何以論文？」王請以耳代目。僧曰：「三作兩千餘言，誰耐久聽！不如焚之，我視以鼻可也。」王從之。每焚一作，僧嗅而頷之曰：「君初法大家，雖未逼真，亦近似矣。我適受之以脾。」問：「可中否？」曰：「亦中得。」餘杭生未深信，先以古大家文燒試之。僧再嗅曰：「妙哉！此文我心受之矣，非歸、胡何解辦此！」生大駭，始焚己作。僧曰：「適領一藝，未窺全豹，何忽另易一人來也？」生託言：「朋友之作，止彼一首；此乃小生作也。」僧嗅其餘灰，咳逆數聲，曰：「勿再投矣！格格而不能下，強受之以鬲；再焚，則作惡矣。」生慚而退。數日榜放，生竟領薦；王下第。生與王走告僧。僧歎曰：「僕雖盲於目，而不盲於鼻；簾中人並鼻盲矣。」俄餘杭生至，意氣發舒，曰：「盲和尚，汝亦啖人水角耶？今竟何如？」僧曰：「我所論者文耳，不謀與君論命。君試尋諸試官之文，各取一首焚之，我便知孰為爾師。」生與王並搜之，止得八九人。生曰：「如有舛錯，以何為罰？」僧憤曰：「剜我盲瞳去！」生焚之，每一首，都言非是；至第六篇，忽向壁大嘔，下氣如雷。眾皆粲然。僧拭目向生曰：「此真汝師也！初不知而驟嗅之，刺於鼻，棘於腹，膀胱所不能容，直自下部出矣！」生大怒，去，曰：「明日自見，勿悔！勿悔！」越二三日，竟不至；視之，已移去矣。──乃知即某門生也。宋慰王曰：「凡吾輩讀書人，不當尤人，但當克己：不尤人則德益弘，能克己則學益進。當前踧落，固是數之不偶；平心而論，文亦未便登峰，其由此砥礪，天下自有不盲之人。」王肅然起敬。又聞次年再行鄉試，遂不歸，止而受教。宋曰：「都中薪桂米珠，勿憂資斧。舍後有窖鏹，可以發用。」即示之處。王謝曰：「昔竇、范貧而能廉，今某幸能自給，敢自污乎？」王一日醉眠，僕及庖人竊發之。王忽覺，聞舍後有聲；窺出，則金堆地上。情見事露，並相慴伏。方訶責間，見有金爵，類多鐫款，審視，皆大父字諱。──蓋王祖曾為南部郎，入都寓此，暴病而卒，金其所遺也。王乃喜，稱得金八百餘兩。明日告宋，且示之爵，欲與瓜分，固辭乃已。以百金往贈瞽僧，僧已去。積數月，敦習益苦。及試，宋曰：「此戰不捷，始真是命矣！」俄以犯規被黜。王尚無言；宋大哭，不能止。王反慰解之。宋曰：「僕為造物所忌，困頓至於終身，今又累及良友。其命也夫！其命也夫！」王曰：「萬事固有數在。如先生乃無志進取，非命也。」宋拭淚曰：「久欲有言，恐相驚怪。某非生人，乃飄泊之游魂也。少負才名，不得志於場屋。佯狂至都，冀得知我者，傳諸著作。甲申之年，竟罹於難，歲歲飄蓬。幸相知愛，故極力為『他山』之攻，生平未酬之願，實欲借良朋一快之耳。今文字之厄若此，誰復能漠然哉！」王亦感泣。問：「何淹滯？」曰：「去年上帝有命，委宣聖及閻羅王核查劫鬼，上者備諸曹任用，餘者即俾轉輪。賤名已錄，所未投到者，欲一見飛黃之快耳，今請別矣。」王問：「所考何職？」曰：「梓潼府中缺一司文郎，暫令聾僮署篆，文運所以顛倒。萬一倖得此秩，當使聖教昌明。」明日，忻忻而至，曰：「願遂矣！宣聖命作『性道論』，視之色喜，謂可司文。閻羅穆簿，欲以『口孽』見棄。宣聖爭之，乃得就。某伏謝已。又呼近案下，囑云：『今以憐才，拔充清要；宜洗心供職，勿蹈前愆。』此可知冥中重德行更甚於文學也。君必修行未至，但積善勿懈可耳。」王曰：「果爾，餘杭其德行何在？」曰：「此即不知。要冥司賞罰，皆無少爽。即前日瞽僧，亦一鬼也，是前朝名家。以生前拋棄字紙過多，罰作瞽。彼自欲醫人疾苦，以贖前愆，故託游廛肆耳。」王命置酒。宋曰：「無須；終歲之擾，盡此一刻，再為我設水角足矣。」王悲愴不食。坐令自噉，頃刻，已過三盛。捧腹曰：「此餐可飽三日，吾以志君德耳。向所食，都在舍後，已成菌矣。藏作藥餌，可益兒慧。」王問後會，曰：「既有官責，當引嫌也。」又問：「梓潼祠中，一相酹祝，可能達否？」曰：「此都無益。九天甚遠，但潔身力行，自有地司牒報，則某必與知之。」言已，作別而沒。王視舍後，果生紫菌，采而藏之。旁有新土墳起，則水角宛然在焉。王歸，彌自刻厲。一夜，夢宋輿蓋而至，曰：「君向以小忿，誤殺一婢，削去祿籍；今篤行已折除矣。然命薄不足任仕進也。」是年，捷於鄉；明年，春闈又捷。遂不復仕。生二子，其一絕鈍，啖以菌，遂大慧。後以故詣金陵，遇餘杭生於旅次，極道契闊，深自降抑，然鬢毛斑矣。

　　異史氏曰：「餘杭生公然自詡，意其為文，未必盡無可觀；而驕詐之意態顏色，遂使人頃刻不可復忍。天人之厭棄已久，故鬼神皆玩弄之。脫能增修厥德，則簾內之『刺鼻棘心』者，遇之正易，何所遭之僅也。」

XCIII. HIS FATHER’S GHOST.

A MAN named T‘ien Tzŭch‘êng, of Chiangning, was crossing the Tungt‘ing lake, when the boat was capsized, and he was drowned. His son, Liangssŭ, who, towards the close of the Ming dynasty, took the highest degree, was then a baby in arms; and his wife, hearing the bad news, swallowed poison forthwith, and left the child to the care of his grandmother. When Liangssŭ grew up, he was appointed magistrate in Hupei, where he remained about a year. He was then transferred to Hunan, on military service; but, on reaching the Tungt‘ing lake, his feelings overpowered him, and he returned to plead inability as an excuse for not taking up his post. Accordingly, he was degraded to the rank of Assistant Magistrate, which he at first declined, but was finally compelled to accept; and thenceforward gave himself up to roaming about on the lakes and streams of the surrounding country, without paying much attention to his official duties.

One night he had anchored his boat alongside the bank of a river, when suddenly the cadence of a sweetly played flageolet broke upon his ear; so he strolled along by the light of the moon in the direction of the music, until, after a few minutes’ walking, he reached a cottage standing by itself, with a few citron trees round it, and brilliantly lighted inside. Approaching a window, he peeped in, and saw three persons sitting at a table, engaged in drinking. In the place of honour was a graduate of about thirty years of age; an old man played the host, and at the side sat a much younger man playing on the flageolet. When he had finished, the old man clapped his hands in admiration; but the graduate turned away with a sigh, as if he had not heard a note. “Come now, Mr. Lu,” cried the old man, addressing the latter, “kindly favour us with one of your songs, which, I know, must be worth hearing.” The graduate then began to sing as follows:—

“Over the river the wind blows cold on lonely me:

Each flow’ret trampled under foot, all verdure gone.

At home a thousand li away, I cannot be;

So towards the Bridge my spirit nightly wanders on.”

The above was given in such melancholy tones that the old man smiled and said, “Mr. Lu, these must be experiences of your own,” and, immediately filling a goblet, added, “I can do nothing like that; but if you will let me, I will give you a song to help us on with our wine.” He then sung a verse from “Li T‘aipoh,” and put them all in a lively humour again; after which the young man said he would just go outside and see how high the moon was, which he did, and observing Liangssŭ outside, clapped his hands, and cried out to his companions, “There is a man at the window, who has seen all we have been doing.” He then led Liangssŭ in; whereupon the other two rose, and begged him to be seated, and to join them in their wine. The wine, however, was cold, and he therefore declined; but the young man at once perceived his reason, and proceeded to warm some for him. Liangssŭ now ordered his servant to go and buy some more, but this his host would not permit him to do. They next inquired Liangssŭ’s name, and whence he came, and then the old man said, “Why, then, you are the father and mother of the district in which I live. My name is River: I am an old resident here. This young man is a Mr. Tu, of Kiangsi; and this gentleman,” added he, pointing to the graduate, “is Mr. Rushten, a fellow provincial of yours.” Mr. Rushten looked at Liangssŭ in rather a contemptuous way, and without taking much notice of him; whereupon Liangssŭ asked him whereabouts he lived in Chiangning, observing that it was strange he himself should never have heard of such an accomplished gentleman. “Alas!” replied Rushten, “it is many a long day since I left my home, and I know nothing even of my own family. Alas, indeed!” These words were uttered in so mournful a tone of voice that the old man broke in with, “Come, come, now! talking like this, instead of drinking when we’re all so jolly together; this will never do.” He then drained a bumper himself, and said, “I propose a game of forfeits. We’ll throw with three dice; and whoever throws so that the spots on one die equal those on the other two shall give us a verse with a corresponding classical allusion in it.” He then threw himself, and turned up an ace, a two, and a three; whereupon he sang the following lines:—

“An ace and a deuce on one side, just equal a three on the other:

For Fan a chicken was boiled, though three years had passed, by Chang’s mother.

Thus friends love to meet!”

Then the young musician threw, and turned up two twos and a four; whereupon he exclaimed, “Don’t laugh at the feeble allusion of an unlearned fellow like me:—

‘Two deuces are equal to a four:

Four men united their valour in the old city.

Thus brothers love to meet!’”

Mr. Rushten followed with two aces and a two, and recited these lines:—

“Two aces are equal to a two:

Luhsiang stretched out his two arms and embraced his father.

Thus father and son love to meet!”

Liang then threw, and turned up the same as Mr. Rushten; whereupon he said:—

“Two aces are equal to a two:

Maojung regaled Lintsung with two baskets.

Thus host and guest love to meet!”

When the partie was over Liangssŭ rose to go, but Mr. Rushten said, “Dear me! why are you in such a hurry; we haven’t had a moment to speak of the old place. Please stay: I was just going to ask you a few questions.” So Liangssŭ sat down again, and Mr. Rushten proceeded. “I had an old friend,” said he, “who was drowned in the Tungt‘ing lake. He bore the same name as yourself; was he a relative?” “He was my father,” replied Liangssŭ; “how did you know him?” “We were friends as boys together; and when he was drowned, I recovered and buried his body by the riverside.” Liangssŭ here burst into tears, and thanked Mr. Rushten very warmly, begging him to point out his father’s grave. “Come again tomorrow,” said Mr. Rushten, “and I will shew it to you. You could easily find it yourself. It is close by here, and has ten stalks of water rush growing on it.” Liangssŭ now took his leave, and went back to his boat, but he could not sleep for thinking of what Mr. Rushten had told him; and at length, without waiting for the dawn, he set out to look for the grave. To his great astonishment, the house where he had spent the previous evening had disappeared; but hunting about in the direction indicated by Mr. Rushten, he found a grave with ten water rushes growing on it, precisely as Mr. Rushten had described. It then flashed across him that Mr. Rushten’s name had a special meaning, and that he had been holding converse with none other than the disembodied spirit of his own father. And, on inquiring of the people of the place, he learnt that twenty years before a benevolent old gentleman, named Kao, had been in the habit of collecting the bodies of persons found drowned, and burying them in that spot. Liang then opened the grave, and carried off his father’s remains to his own home, where his grandmother, to whom he described Mr. Rushten’s appearance, confirmed the suspicion he himself had formed. It also turned out that the young musician was a cousin of his, who had been drowned when nineteen years of age; and then he recollected that the boy’s father had subsequently gone to Kiangsi, and that his mother had died there, and had been buried at the Bamboo Bridge, to which Mr. Rushten had alluded in his song. But he did not know who the old man was.

田子成

　　江寧田子成，過洞庭，舟覆而沒。子良耜，明季進士，時在抱中。妻杜氏，聞訃，仰藥而死。良耜受庶祖母撫養成立，筮仕湖北。年餘，奉憲命營務湖南。至洞庭，痛哭而返。自告才力不及，降縣丞，隸漢陽，辭不就。院司強督促之乃就。輒放蕩江湖間，不以官職自守。一夕，艤舟江岸，聞洞簫聲，抑揚可聽。乘月步去，約半里許，見曠野中，茅屋數椽，熒熒燈火；近窗窺之，有三人對酌其中。上座一秀才，年三十許；下座一叟；側座吹簫者，年最少。吹竟，叟擊節贊佳。秀才面壁吟思，若罔聞。叟曰：「盧十兄必有佳作，請長吟，俾得共賞之。」秀才乃吟曰：「滿江風月冷淒淒，瘦草零花化作泥。千里雲山飛不到，夢魂夜夜竹橋西。」吟聲愴惻。叟笑曰：「盧十兄故態作矣！」因酌以巨觥，曰：「老夫不能屬和，請歌以侑酒。」乃歌「蘭陵美酒」之什。歌已，一座解頤。少年起曰：「我視月斜何度矣。」突出見客，拍手曰：「窗外有人，我等狂態盡露也！」遂挽客入，共一舉手。叟使與少年相對坐。試其杯皆冷酒，辭不飲。少年起以葦炬燎壺而進之。良耜亦命從者出錢行沽，叟固止之。因訊邦族，良耜具道生平。叟致敬曰：「吾鄉父母也。少君姓江，此間土著。」指少年曰：「此江西杜野侯。」又指秀才：「此盧十兄，與公同鄉。」盧自見良耜，殊偃蹇不甚為禮。良耜因問：「家居何里？如此清才，殊早不聞。」答曰：「流寓已久，親族恆不相識，可歎人也！」言之哀楚。叟搖手亂之曰：「好客相逢，不理觴政，聒絮如此，厭人聽聞！」遂把杯自飲，曰：「一令請共行之，不能者罰。每擲三色，以相逢為率，須一古典相合。」乃擲得么二三，唱曰：「三加么二點相同，雞黍三年約范公：朋友喜相逢。」次少年，擲得雙二單四，曰：「不讀書人，但見俚典，勿以為笑。四加雙二點相同，四人聚義古城中：兄弟喜相逢。」盧得雙么單二，曰：「二加雙么點相同，呂向兩手抱老翁：父子喜相逢。」良耜擲，復與盧同，曰：「二加雙么點相同，茅容二簋款林宗：主客喜相逢。」令畢，良耜興辭。盧始起曰：「故鄉之誼，未遑傾吐，何別之遽？將有所問，願少留也。」良耜復坐，問：「何言？」曰：「僕有老友某，沒於洞庭，與君同族否？」良耜曰：「是先君也，何以相識？」曰：「少時相善。沒日，惟僕見之，因收其骨，葬江邊耳。」良耜出涕下拜，求指墓所。盧曰：「明日來此，當指示之。要亦易辨，去此數武，但見墳上有叢蘆十莖者是也。」良耜灑涕，與眾拱別。至舟，終夜不寢，念盧情詞似皆有因。昧爽而往，則舍宇全無，益駭。因遵所指處尋墓，果得之。叢蘆其上，數之，適符其數。恍然悟盧十兄之稱，皆其寓言；所遇，乃其父之鬼也。細問土人，則二十年前，有高翁富而好善，溺水者皆拯其尸而埋之，故有數墳在焉。遂發冢負骨，棄官而返。歸告祖母，質其狀貌皆確。江西杜野侯，乃其表兄，年十九，溺於江；後其父流寓江西。又悟杜夫人歿後，葬竹橋之西，故詩中憶之也。但不知叟何人耳。

XCIV. THE BOATGIRL BRIDE.

WANG KUINGAN was a young man of good family. It happened once when he was travelling southwards, and had moored his boat to the bank, that he saw in another boat close by a young boat girl embroidering shoes. He was much struck by her beauty, and continued gazing at her for some time, though she took not the slightest notice of him. By-and-by he began singing—

“The Loyang lady lives over the way:

[Fifteen years is her age I should say].”

to attract her attention, and then she seemed to perceive that he was addressing himself to her; but, after just raising her head and glancing at him, she resumed her embroidery as before. Wang then threw a piece of silver towards her, which fell on her skirt; however she merely picked it up, and flung it on to the bank, as if she had not seen what it was, so Wang put it back in his pocket again. He followed up by throwing her a gold bracelet, to which she paid no attention whatever, never taking her eyes off her work. A few minutes after her father appeared, much to the dismay of Wang, who was afraid he would see the bracelet; but the young girl quietly placed her feet over it, and concealed it from his sight. The boatman let go the painter, and away they went down stream, leaving Wang sitting there, not knowing what to do next. And, having recently lost his wife, he regretted that he had not seized this opportunity to make another match; the more so, as when he came to ask the other boatpeople of the place, no one knew anything about them. So Wang got into his own boat, and started off in pursuit; but evening came on, and, as he could see nothing of them, he was obliged to turn back and proceed in the direction where business was taking him. When he had finished that, he returned, making inquiries all the way along, but without hearing anything about the object of his search. On arriving at home, he was unable either to eat or to sleep, so much did this affair occupy his mind; and about a year afterwards he went south again, bought a boat, and lived in it as his home, watching carefully every single vessel that passed either up or down, until at last there was hardly one he didn’t know by sight. But all this time the boat he was looking for never reappeared.

Some six months passed away thus, and then, having exhausted all his funds, he was obliged to go home, where he remained in a state of general inaptitude for anything. One night he dreamed that he entered a village on the riverbank, and that, after passing several houses, he saw one with a door towards the south, and a palisade of bamboos inside. Thinking it was a garden, he walked in and beheld a beautiful magnolia, covered with blossoms, which reminded him of the line—

“And Judas tree in flower before her door.”

A few steps farther on was a neat bamboo hedge, on the other side of which, towards the north, he found a small house, with three columns, the door of which was locked; and another, towards the south, with its window shaded by the broad leaves of a plaintain tree. The door was barred by a clotheshorse, on which was hanging an embroidered petticoat; and, on seeing this, Wang stepped back, knowing that he had got to the ladies’ quarters; but his presence had already been noticed inside, and, in another moment, out came his heroine of the boat. Overjoyed at seeing her, he was on the point of grasping her hand, when suddenly the girl’s father arrived, and, in his consternation, Wang waked up, and found that it was all a dream. Every incident of it, however, remained clear and distinct in his mind, and he took care to say nothing about it to anybody, for fear of destroying its reality.

Another year passed away, and he went again to Chinkiang, where lived an official, named Hsü, who was an old friend of the family, and who invited Wang to come and take a cup of wine with him. On his way thither, Wang lost his way, but at length reached a village which seemed familiar to him, and which he soon found, by the door with the magnolia inside, to be identical, in every particular, with the village of his dream. He went in through the doorway, and there was everything as he had seen it in his dream, even to the boat girl herself. She jumped up on his arrival, and, shutting the door in his face, asked what his business was there. Wang inquired if she had forgotten about the bracelet, and went on to tell her how long he had been searching for her, and how, at last, she had been revealed to him in a dream. The girl then begged to know his name and family; and when she heard who he was, she asked what a gentleman like himself could want with a poor boat girl like her, as he must have a wife of his own. “But for you,” replied Wang, “I should, indeed, have been married long ago.” Upon which the girl told him if that was really the case, he had better apply to her parents, “although,” added she, “they have already refused a great many offers for me. The bracelet you gave me is here, but my father and mother are just now away from home; they will be back shortly. You go away now and engage a matchmaker, when I dare say it will be all right if the proper formalities are observed.” Wang then retired, the girl calling after him to remember that her name was Mêng Yün, and her father’s Mêng Chiangli. He proceeded at once on his way to Mr. Hsü’s, and after that sought out his intended father-in-law, telling him who he was, and offering him at the same time one hundred ounces of silver, as betrothal money for his daughter. “She is already promised,” replied the old man; upon which Wang declared he had been making careful inquiries, and had heard, on all sides, that the young lady was not engaged, winding up by begging to know what objection there was to his suit. “I have just promised her,” answered her father, “and I cannot possibly break my word;” so Wang went away, deeply mortified, not knowing whether to believe it or not. That night he tossed about a good deal; and next morning, braving the ridicule with which he imagined his friend would view his wished-for alliance with a boat girl, he went off to Mr. Hsü, and told him all about it. “Why didn’t you consult me before?” cried Mr. Hsü; “her father is a connection of mine.” Wang then went on to give fuller particulars, which his friend interrupted by saying, “Changli is indeed poor, but he has never been a boatman. Are you sure you are not making a mistake?” He then sent off his elder son to make inquiries; and to him the girl’s father said, “Poor I am, but I don’t sell my daughter. Your friend imagined that I should be tempted by the sight of his money to forego the usual ceremonies, and so I won’t have anything to do with him. But if your father desires this match, and everything is in proper order, I will just go in and consult with my daughter, and see if she is willing.” He then retired for a few minutes, and when he came back he raised his hands in congratulation, saying, “Everything is as you wish;” whereupon a day was fixed, and the young man went home to report to his father. Wang now sent off betrothal presents, with the usual formalities, and took up his abode with his friend, Mr. Hsü, until the marriage was solemnized, three days after which he bade adieu to his father-in-law, and started on his way northwards. In the evening, as they were sitting on the boat together, Wang said to his wife, “When I first met you near this spot, I fancied you were not of the ordinary boating class. Where were you then going?” “I was going to visit my uncle,” she replied. “We are not a wealthy family, you know, but we don’t want anything through an improper channel; and I couldn’t help smiling at the great eyes you were making at me, all the time trying to tempt me with money. But when I heard you speak, I knew at once you were a man of refinement, though I guessed you were a bit of a rake; and so I hid your bracelet, and saved you from the wrath of my father.” “And yet,” replied Wang, “you have fallen into my snare after all;” adding, after a little pressure, “for I can’t conceal from you much longer the fact that I have already a wife, belonging to a high official family.” This she did not believe, until he began to affirm it seriously; and then she jumped up and ran out of the cabin. Wang followed at once, but, before he could reach her, she was already in the river; whereupon he shouted out to boats to come to their assistance, causing quite a commotion all round about; but nothing was to be seen in the river, save only the reflection of the stars shining brightly on the water. All night long Wang went sorrowfully up and down, and offered a high reward for the body, which, however, was not forthcoming. So he went home in despair, and then, fearing lest his father-in-law should come to visit his daughter, he started on a visit to a connection of his, who had an appointment in Honan. In the course of a year or two, when on his homeward journey, he chanced to be detained by bad weather at a roadside inn of rather cleaner appearance than usual. Within he saw an old woman playing with a child, which, as soon as he entered, held out its arms to him to be taken. Wang took the child on his knee, and there it remained, refusing to go back to its nurse; and, when the rain had stopped, and Wang was getting ready to go, the child cried out, “Papa gone!” The nurse told it to hold its tongue, and, at the same moment, out from behind the screen came Wang’s long-lost wife. “You bad fellow,” said she, “what am I to do with this?” pointing to the child; and then Wang knew that the boy was his own son. He was much affected, and swore by the sun that the words he had uttered had been uttered in jest, and by-and-by his wife’s anger was soothed. She then explained how she had been picked up by a passing boat, the occupant of which was the owner of the house they were in, a man of sixty years of age, who had no children of his own, and who kindly adopted her. She also told him how she had had several offers of marriage, all of which she had refused, and how her child was born, and that she had called him Chishêng, and that he was then a year old. Wang now unpacked his baggage again, and went in to see the old gentleman and his wife, whom he treated as if they had actually been his wife’s parents. A few days afterwards they set off together towards Wang’s home, where they found his wife’s real father awaiting them. He had been there more than two months, and had been considerably disconcerted by the mysterious remarks of Wang’s servants; but the arrival of his daughter and her husband made things all smooth again, and when they told him what had happened, he understood the demeanour of the servants which had seemed so strange to him at first.

王桂菴

　　王樨，字桂菴，大名世家子。適南遊。泊舟江岸。鄰舟有榜人女，繡履其中，風姿韶絕。王窺既久，女若不覺。王朗吟「洛陽女兒對門居」，故使女聞。女似解其為己者，略舉首一斜瞬之，俛首繡如故。王神志益馳，以金一錠投之，墮女襟上；女拾棄之，金落岸邊。王拾歸，益怪之，又以金釧擲之，墮足下；女操業不顧。無何，榜人自他歸。王恐其見釧研詰，心急甚；女從容以雙鉤覆蔽之。榜人解纜，逕去。王心情喪惘，癡坐凝思。時王方喪偶，悔不即媒定之。乃詢舟人，皆不識其何姓。返舟急追之，杳不知其所往。不得已，返舟而南。務畢，北旋，又沿江細訪，並無音耗。抵家，寢食皆縈念之。踰年，復南，買舟江際，若家焉。日日細數行舟，往來者帆楫皆熟，而曩舟殊杳。居半年，貲罄而歸。行思坐想，不能少置。一夜，夢至江村，過數門，見一家柴扉南向，門內疏竹為籬，意是亭園，逕入。有夜合一株，紅絲滿樹。隱念：詩中「門前一樹馬纓花」，此其是矣。過數武，葦笆光潔。又入之，見北舍三楹，雙扉闔焉。南有小舍，紅蕉蔽窗。探身一窺，則椸架當門，罥畫裙其上，知為女子閨闥，愕然卻退；而內亦覺之，有奔出瞰客者，粉黛微呈，則舟中人也。喜出望外，曰：「亦有相逢之期乎！」方將狎就，女父適歸，倏然驚覺，始知是夢。景物歷歷，如在目前。祕之，恐與人言，破此佳夢。又年餘，再適鎮江。郡南有徐太僕，與有世誼，招飲。信馬而去，誤入小村，道途景象，彷彿平生所歷。一門內，馬纓一樹，夢境宛然。駭極，投鞭而入。種種物色，與夢無別。再入，則房舍一如其數。夢既驗，不復疑慮，直趨南舍，舟中人果在其中。遙見王，驚起，以扉自幛，叱問：「何處男子？」王逡巡間，猶疑是夢。女見步趨甚近，閛然扃戶。王曰：「卿不憶擲釧者耶？」備述相思之苦，且言夢徵。女隔窗審其家世，王具道之。女曰：「既屬宦裔，中饋必有佳人，焉用妾？」王曰：「非以卿故，昏娶固已久矣！」女曰：「果如所云，足知君心。妾此情難告父母，然亦方命而絕數家。金釧猶在，料鍾情者必有耗問耳。父母偶適外戚，行且至。君姑退，倩冰委禽，計無不遂；若望以非禮成耦，則用心左矣。」王倉卒欲出。女遙呼王郎曰：「妾芸娘，姓孟氏。父字江蘺。」王記而出。罷筵早返，謁江蘺。江迎入，設坐籬下。王自道家閥，即致來意，兼納百金為聘。翁曰：「息女已字矣。」王曰：「訊之甚確，固待聘耳，何見絕之深？」翁曰：「適間所說，不敢為誑。」王神情俱失，拱別而返。當夜輾轉，無人可媒。向欲以情告太僕，恐娶榜人女為先生笑；今情急，無可為媒，質明，詣太僕，實告之。太僕曰：「此翁與有瓜葛，是祖母嫡孫，何不早言？」王始吐隱情。太僕疑曰：「江蘺固貧，素不以操舟為業，得毋誤乎？」乃遣子大郎詣孟。孟曰：「僕雖空匱，非賣昏者。曩公子以金自媒，諒僕必為利動，故不敢附為婚姻。既承先生命，必無錯謬。但頑女頗恃嬌愛，好門戶輒便拗卻，不得不與商榷，免他日怨婚也。」遂起，少入而返，拱手一如尊命，約期乃別。大郎復命，王乃盛備禽妝，納采於孟，假館太僕之家，親迎成禮。居三日，辭岳北歸。夜宿舟中，問芸娘曰：「向於此處遇卿，固疑不類舟人子。當日泛舟何之？」答云：「妾叔家江北，偶借扁舟一省視耳。妾家僅可自給，然儻來物頗不貴視之。笑君雙瞳如豆，屢以金貲動人。初聞吟聲，知為風雅士，又疑為儇薄子作蕩婦挑之也。使父見金釧，君死無地矣。妾憐才心切否？」王笑曰：「卿固黠甚，然亦墮吾術矣！」女問：「何事？」王止而不言。又固詰之，乃曰：「家門日近，此亦不能終祕。實告卿：我家中固有妻在，吳尚書女也。」芸娘不信，王故壯其詞以實之。芸娘色變，默移時，遽起，奔出；王屣履追之，則已投江中矣。王大呼，諸船驚鬧，夜色昏蒙，惟有滿江星點而已。王悼痛終夜，沿江而下，以重價覓其骸骨，亦無見者。邑邑而歸，憂痛交集。又恐翁來視女，無詞可對。有姊丈官河南，遂命駕造之，年餘始歸。途中遇雨，休裝民舍，見房廊清潔，有老嫗弄兒廈間。兒見王入，即撲求抱，王怪之。又視兒秀婉可愛，攬置膝頭，嫗喚之，不去。少頃，雨霽，王舉兒付嫗，下堂趣裝。兒啼曰：「阿爹去矣！」嫗恥之，呵之不止，強抱而去。王坐待治任，忽有麗者自屏後抱兒出，則芸娘也。方詫異間，芸娘罵曰：「負心郎！遺此一塊肉，焉置之？」王乃知為己子。酸來刺心，不暇問其往跡，先以前言之戲，矢日自白。芸娘始反怒為悲。相向涕零。先是，第主莫翁，六旬無子，攜媼往朝南海。歸途泊江際，芸娘隨波下，適觸翁舟。翁命從人拯出之，療控終夜，始漸蘇。翁媼視之，是好女子，甚喜，以為己女，攜歸。居數月，欲為擇婿，女不可。踰十月，生一子，名曰寄生。王避雨其家，寄生方周歲也。王於是解裝，入拜翁媼，遂為岳婿。居數日，始舉家歸。至，則孟翁坐待，已兩月矣。翁初至，見僕輩情詞恍惚，心頗疑怪；既見，始共懽慰。歷述所遭，乃知其枝梧者有由也。

XCV. THE TWO BRIDES.

NOW Chishêng, or Wang Sun, was one of the cleverest young fellows in the district; and his father and mother, who had foreseen his ability from the time when, as a baby in long clothes, he distinguished them from other people, loved him very dearly. He grew up into a handsome lad; at eight or nine he could compose elegantly, and by fourteen he had already entered his name as a candidate for the first degree, after which his marriage became a question for consideration. Now his father’s younger sister, Erhniang, had married a gentleman named Chêng Tzŭch‘iao, and they had a daughter called Kueihsiu, who was extremely pretty, and with whom Chishêng fell deeply in love, being soon unable either to eat or to sleep. His parents became extremely uneasy about him, and inquired what it was that ailed him; and when he told them, they at once sent off a matchmaker to Mr. Chêng. The latter, however, was rather a stickler for the proprieties, and replied that the near relationship precluded him from accepting the offer. Thereupon Chishêng became dangerously ill, and his mother, not knowing what to do, secretly tried to persuade Erhniang to let her daughter come over to their house; but Mr. Chêng heard of it, and was so angry that Chishêng’s father and mother gave up all hope of arranging the match.

At that time there was a gentleman named Chang living near by, who had five daughters, all very pretty, but the youngest, called Wuk‘o, was singularly beautiful, far surpassing her four sisters. She was not betrothed to any one, when one day, as she was on her way to worship at the family tombs, she chanced to see Chishêng, and at her return home spoke about him to her mother. Her mother guessed what her meaning was, and arranged with a matchmaker, named Mrs. Yü, to call upon Chishêng’s parents. This she did precisely at the time when Chishêng was so ill, and forthwith told his mother that her son’s complaint was one she, Mrs. Yü, was quite competent to cure; going on to tell her about Miss Wuk‘o and the proposed marriage, at which the good lady was delighted, and sent her in to talk about it to Chishêng himself. “Alas!” cried he, when he had heard Mrs. Yü’s story, “you are bringing me the wrong medicine for my complaint.” “All depends upon the efficacy of the medicine,” replied Mrs. Yü; “if the medicine is good, it matters not what is the name of the doctor who administers the draught; while to set your heart on a particular person, and to lie there and die because that person doesn’t come, is surely foolish in the extreme.” “Ah,” rejoined Chishêng, “there’s no medicine under heaven that will do me any good.” Mrs. Yü told him his experience was limited, and proceeded to expatiate by speaking and gesticulating on the beauty and liveliness of Wuk‘o. But all Chishêng said was that she was not what he wanted, and, turning round his face to the wall, would listen to no more about her. So Mrs. Yü was obliged to go away, and Chishêng became worse and worse every day, until suddenly one of the maids came in and informed him that the young lady herself was at the door. Immediately he jumped up and ran out, and lo! there before him stood a beautiful girl, whom, however he soon discovered not to be Kueihsiu. She wore a light yellow robe with a fine silk jacket and an embroidered petticoat, from beneath which her two little feet peeped out; and altogether she more resembled a fairy than anything else. Chishêng inquired her name; to which she replied that it was Wuk‘o, adding that she couldn’t understand his devoted attachment to Kueihsiu, as if there was nobody else in the world. Chishêng apologized, saying that he had never before seen any one so beautiful as Kueihsiu, but that he was now aware of his mistake. He then swore everlasting fidelity to her, and was just grasping her hand, when he awoke and found his mother rubbing him. It was a dream, but so accurately defined in all its details that he began to think if Wuk‘o was really such as he had seen her, there would be no further need to try for his impracticable cousin. So he communicated his dream to his mother; and she, only too delighted to notice this change of feeling, offered to go to Wuk‘o’s house herself; but Chishêng would not hear of this, and arranged with an old woman who knew the family to find some pretext for going there, and to report to him what Wuk‘o was like. When she arrived Wuk‘o was ill in bed, and lay with her head propped up by pillows, looking very pretty indeed. The old woman approached the couch and asked what was the matter; to which Wuk‘o made no reply, her fingers fidgetting all the time with her waistband. “She’s been behaving badly to her father and mother,” cried the latter, who was in the room; “there’s many a one has offered to marry her, but she says she’ll have none but Chishêng: and then when I scold her a bit, she takes on and won’t touch her food for days.” “Madam,” said the old woman, “if you could get that young man for your daughter they would make a truly pretty pair; and as for him, if he could only see Miss Wuk‘o, I’m afraid it would be too much for him. What do you think of my going there and getting them to make proposals?” “No, thank you,” replied Wuk‘o; “I would rather not risk his refusal;” upon which the old woman declared she would succeed, and hurried off to tell Chishêng, who was delighted to find from her report that Wuk‘o was exactly as he had seen her in his dream, though he didn’t trust implicitly in all the old woman said. By-and-by, when he began to get a little better, he consulted with the old woman as to how he could see Wuk‘o with his own eyes; and, after some little difficulty, it was arranged that Chishêng should hide himself in a room from which he would be able to see her as she crossed the yard supported by a maid, which she did every day at a certain hour. This Chishêng proceeded to do, and in a little while out she came, accompanied by the old woman as well, who instantly drew her attention either to the clouds or the trees, in order that she should walk more leisurely. Thus Chishêng had a good look at her, and saw that she was truly the young lady of his dream. He could hardly contain himself for joy; and when the old woman arrived and asked if she would do instead of Kueihsiu, he thanked her very warmly and returned to his own home. There he told his father and mother, who sent off a matchmaker to arrange the preliminaries; but the latter came back and told them that Wuk‘o was already betrothed. This was a terrible blow for Chishêng, who was soon as ill as ever, and offered no reply to his father and mother when they charged him with having made a mistake. For several months he ate nothing but a bowl of rice gruel a day, and he became as emaciated as a fowl, when all of a sudden the old woman walked in and asked him what was the matter. “Foolish boy,” said she, when he had told her all; “before you wouldn’t have her, and do you imagine she is bound to have you now? But I’ll see if I can’t help you; for were she the Emperor’s own daughter, I should still find some way of getting her.” Chishêng asked what he should do, and she then told him to send a servant with a letter next day to Wuk‘o’s house, to which his father at first objected for fear of another repulse; but the old woman assured him that Wuk‘o’s parents had since repented, besides which no written contract had as yet been made; “and you know the proverb,” added she, “that those who are first at the fire will get their dinner first.” So Chishêng’s father agreed, and two servants were accordingly sent, their mission proving a complete success. Chishêng now rapidly recovered his health, and thought no more of Kueihsiu, who, when she heard of the intended match, became in her turn very seriously ill, to the great anger of her father, who said she might die for all he cared, but to the great sorrow of her mother, who was extremely fond of her daughter. The latter even went so far as to propose to Mr. Chang that Kueihsiu should go as second wife, at which he was so enraged that he declared he would wash his hands of the girl altogether. The mother then found out when Chishêng’s wedding was to take place; and, borrowing a chair and attendants from her brother under pretence of going to visit him, put Kueihsiu inside and sent her off to her uncle’s house. As she arrived at the door, the servants spread a carpet for her to walk on, and the band struck up the wedding march. Chishêng went out to see what it was all about, and there met a young lady in a bridal veil, from whom he would have escaped had not her servants surrounded them, and, before he knew what he was doing, he was making her the usual salutation of a bridegroom. They then went in together, and, to his further astonishment, he found that the young lady was Kueihsiu; and, being now unable to go and meet Wuk‘o, a message was sent to her father, telling him what had occurred. He, too, got into a great rage, and vowed he would break off the match; but Wuk‘o herself said she would go all the same, her rival having only got the start of her in point of time. And go she did; and the two wives, instead of quarrelling, as was expected, lived very happily together like sisters, and wore each other’s clothes and shoes without distinction, Kueihsiu taking the place of an elder sister as being somewhat older than Wuk‘o. One day, after these events, Chishêng asked Wuk‘o why she had refused his offer; to which she replied that it was merely to pay him out for having previously refused her father’s proposal. “Before you had seen me, your head was full of Kueihsiu; but after you had seen me, your thoughts were somewhat divided; and I wanted to know how I compared with her, and whether you would fall ill on my account as you had on hers, that we mightn’t quarrel about our looks.” “It was a cruel revenge,” said Chishêng; “but how should I ever have got a sight of you had it not been for the old woman?” “What had she to do with it?” replied Wuk‘o; “I knew you were behind the door all the time. When I was ill I dreamt that I went to your house and saw you, but I looked upon it only as a dream until I heard that you had dreamt that I had actually been there, and then I knew that my spirit must have been with you.” Chishêng now related to her the particulars of his vision, which coincided exactly with her own; and thus, strangely enough, had the matrimonial alliances of both father and son been brought about by dreams.

寄生

　　寄生字王孫，郡中名士。父母以其襁褓認父，謂有夙惠，鍾愛之。長益秀美，八九歲能文，十四入郡庠。每自擇偶。父桂菴有妹二娘，適鄭秀才子僑，生女閨秀，慧豔絕倫。王孫見之，心切愛慕。積久，寢食俱廢。父母大憂，苦研詰之，遂以實告。父遣冰於鄭；鄭性方謹，以中表為嫌，卻之。王孫愈病。母計無所出，陰婉致二娘，但求閨秀一臨存之。鄭聞，益怒，出惡聲焉。父母既絕望，聽之而已。郡有大姓張氏，五女皆美；幼者名五可，尤冠諸姊，擇婿未字。一日，上墓，途遇王孫，自輿中窺見，歸以白母。母沈知其意，見媒媼于氏，微示之。媼遂詣王所。時王孫方病，訊知，笑曰：「此病老身能醫之。」芸娘問故。媼述張氏意，極道五可之美。芸娘喜，使媼往候王孫。媼入，撫王孫而告之。王孫搖首曰：「醫不對症，奈何！」媼笑曰：「但問醫良否耳：其良也，召和而緩至，可矣；執其人以求之，守死而待之，不亦癡乎？」王孫欷歔曰：「但天下之醫，無愈和者。」媼曰：「何見之不廣也？」遂以五可之容顏髮膚，神情態度，口寫而手狀之。王孫又搖首曰：「媼休矣！此餘願所不及也。」反身向壁，不復聽矣。媼見其志不移，遂去。一日，王孫沉痼中，忽一婢入曰：「所思之人至矣！」喜極，躍然而起。急出舍，則麗人已在庭中。細認之，卻非閨秀，著松花色細褶繡裙，雙鉤微露，神仙不啻也。拜問姓名，答曰：「妾，五可也。君深於情者，而獨鍾閨秀，使人不平。」王孫謝曰：「生平未見顏色，故目中止一閨秀。今知罪矣！」遂與要誓。方握手殷殷，適母來撫摩，蘧然而覺，則一夢也。回思聲容笑貌，宛在目中。陰念：五可果如所夢，何必求所難遘。因而以夢告母。母喜其念少奪，急欲媒之。王孫恐夢見不的，託鄰嫗素識張氏者，偽以他故詣之，囑其潛相五可。嫗至其家，五可方病，靠枕支頤，婀娜之態，傾絕一世。近問：「何恙？」女默然弄帶，不作一語。母代答曰：「非病也。連日與爹娘負氣耳！」嫗問故。曰：「諸家問名，皆不願，必如王家寄生者方嫁。是為母者勸之急，遂作意不食數日矣。」嫗笑曰：「娘子若配王郎，真是玉人成雙也。渠若見五娘，恐又憔悴死矣！我歸，即令倩冰，如何？」五可止之曰：「姥勿爾！恐其不諧，益增笑耳！」嫗銳然以必成自任，五可方微笑。嫗歸，復命，一如媒媼言。王孫詳問衣履，亦與夢合，大悅。意雖稍舒，然終不以人言為信。過數日，漸瘳，祕招于媼來，謀以親見五可。媼難之，姑應而去。久之，不至。方欲覓問，媼忽忻然來曰：「機幸可圖。五娘向有小恙，日令婢輩將扶，移過對院。公子往伏伺之，五娘行緩澀，委曲可以盡睹矣。」王孫喜，明日，命駕早往，媼先在焉。即令縶馬村樹，引入臨路舍，設座掩扉而去。少間，五可果扶婢出。王孫自門隟目注之。女從門外過，媼故指揮雲樹以遲纖步，王孫窺覘盡悉，意顫不能自持。未幾，媼至，曰：「可以代閨秀否？」王孫申謝而返，始告父母，遣媒要盟。及妁往，則五可已別字矣。王孫失意，悔悶欲死，即刻復病。父母憂甚，責其自誤。王孫無詞，惟日飲米汁一合。積數日，雞骨支床，較前尤甚。媼忽至，驚曰：「何憊之甚？」王孫涕下，以情告。媼笑曰：「癡公子！前日人趁汝來，而故卻之；今日汝求人，而能必遂耶？雖然，尚可為力。早與老身謀，即許京都皇子，能奪還也。」王孫大悅，求策。媼命函啟遣伻，約次日候於張所。桂菴恐以唐突見拒。媼曰：「前與張公業有成言，延數日而遽悔之；且彼字他家，尚無函信。諺云：『先炊者先餐。』何疑也！」桂菴從之。次日，二僕往，並無異詞，厚犒而歸。王孫病頓起。由此閨秀之想遂絕。初，鄭子僑卻聘，閨秀頗不懌；及聞張氏婚成，心愈抑鬱，遂病，日就支離。父母詰之，不肯言。婢窺其意，隱以告母。鄭聞之，怒不醫，以聽其死。二娘懟曰：「吾姪亦殊不惡，何守頭巾戒，殺吾嬌女！」鄭恚曰：「若所生女，不如早亡，免貽笑柄！」以此夫妻反目。二娘故與女言，將使仍歸王孫，若為媵。女俛首不言，意若甚願。二娘商鄭，鄭更怒，一付二娘，置女度外，不復預聞。二娘愛女切，欲實其言。女乃喜，病漸瘥。竊探王孫，親迎有日矣。及期，以姪完婚，偽欲歸寧，昧旦，使人求僕輿於兄。兄最友愛，又以居村鄰近，遂以所備親迎車馬，先迎二娘。既至，則妝女入車，使兩僕兩媼護送之。到門，以氈貼地而入。時鼓樂已集，從僕叱令吹擂，一時人聲沸聒。王孫奔視，則女子以紅帕蒙首，駭極，欲奔；鄭僕夾扶，便令交拜。王孫不知何由，即便拜訖。二媼扶女，逕坐青廬，始知其閨秀也。舉家皇亂，莫知所為。時漸瀕暮，王孫不復敢行親迎之禮。桂菴遣僕以情告張；張怒，遂欲斷絕。五可不肯，曰：「彼雖先至，未受雁采；不如仍使親迎。」父納其言，以對來使。使歸，桂菴終不敢從。相對籌思，喜怒俱無所施。張待之既久，知其不行，遂亦以輿馬送五可至，因另設青帳於別室。而王孫周旋兩間，蹀踱無以自處。母乃調停於中，使序行以齒，二女皆諾。及五可聞閨秀差長，稱「姊」有難色。母甚慮之。比三朝公會，五可見閨秀風致宜人，不覺右之，自是始定。然父母恐其積久不相能，而二女卻無間言，衣履易著，相愛如姊妹焉。王孫始問五可卻媒之故。笑曰：「無他，聊報君之卻于媼耳。尚未見妾，意中止有閨秀；即見妾，亦略靳之，以覘君之視妾，較閨秀何如也。使君為伊病，而不為妾病，則亦不必強求容矣。」王孫笑曰：「報亦慘矣！然非于媼，何得一覲芳容。」五可曰：「是妾自欲見君，媼何能為。過舍門時，豈不知眈眈者在內耶。夢中業相要，何尚未知信耶？」王孫驚問：「何知？」曰：「妾病中夢至君家，以為妄；後聞君亦夢，妾乃知魂魄真到此也。」王孫異之，遂述所夢，時日悉符。父子之良緣，皆以夢成，亦奇情也。故並誌之。

　　異史氏曰：「父癡於情，子遂幾為情死。所謂情種，其王孫之謂與？不有善夢之父，何生離魂之子哉！」

XCVI. A SUPERNATURAL WIFE.

A CERTAIN Mr. Chao, of Ch‘angshan, lodged in a family of the name of T‘ai. He was very badly off, and, falling sick, was brought almost to death’s door. One day they moved him into the verandah, that it might be cooler for him; and, when he awoke from a nap, lo! a beautiful girl was standing by his side. “I am come to be your wife,” said the girl, in answer to his question as to who she was; to which he replied that a poor fellow like himself did not look for such luck as that; adding that, being then on his deathbed, he would not have much occasion for the services of a wife. The girl said she could cure him; but he told her he very much doubted that; “And even,” continued he, “should you have any good prescription, I have not the means of getting it made up.” “I don’t want medicine to cure you with,” rejoined the girl, proceeding at once to rub his back and sides with her hand, which seemed to him like a ball of fire. He soon began to feel much better, and asked the young lady what her name was, in order, as he said, that he might remember her in his prayers. “I am a spirit,” replied she; “and you, when alive under the Han dynasty as Ch‘u Suiliang, were a benefactor of my family. Your kindness being engraven on my heart, I have at length succeeded in my search for you, and am able in some measure to requite you.” Chao was dreadfully ashamed of his poverty-stricken state, and afraid that his dirty room would spoil the young lady’s dress; but she made him show her in, and accordingly he took her into his apartment, where there were neither chairs to sit upon, nor signs of anything to eat, saying, “You might, indeed, be able to put up with all this; but you see my larder is empty, and I have absolutely no means of supporting a wife.” “Don’t be alarmed about that,” cried she; and in another moment he saw a couch covered with costly robes, the walls papered with a silver flecked paper, and chairs and tables appear, the latter laden with all kinds of wine and exquisite viands. They then began to enjoy themselves, and lived together as husband and wife, many people coming to witness these strange things, and being all cordially received by the young lady, who in her turn always accompanied Mr. Chao when he went out to dinner anywhere. One day there was an unprincipled young graduate among the company, which she seemed immediately to become aware of; and, after calling him several bad names, she struck him on the side of the head, causing his head to fly out of the window while his body remained inside; and there he was, stuck fast, unable to move either way, until the others interceded for him and he was released. After some time visitors became too numerous, and if she refused to see them they turned their anger against her husband. At length, as they were sitting together drinking with some friends at the Tuanyang festival, a white rabbit ran in, whereupon the girl jumped up and said, “The doctor has come for me;” then, turning to the rabbit, she added, “You go on: I’ll follow you.” So the rabbit went away, and then she ordered them to get a ladder and place it against a high tree in the back yard, the top of the ladder overtopping the tree. The young lady went up first and Chao close behind her; after which she called out to anybody who wished to join them to make haste up. None ventured to do so with the exception of a serving boy belonging to the house, who followed after Chao; and thus they went up, up, up, up, until they disappeared in the clouds and were seen no more. However, when the bystanders came to look at the ladder, they found it was only an old doorframe with the panels knocked out; and when they went into Mr. Chao’s room, it was the same old, dirty, unfurnished room as before. So they determined to find out all about it from the serving boy when he came back; but this he never did.

褚遂良

　　長山趙某，稅屋大姓。病癥結，又孤貧，奄然就斃。一日，力疾就涼，移臥簷下。既醒，見絕代麗人坐其傍。因詰問之。女曰：「我特來為汝作婦。」某驚曰：「無論貧人不敢有妄想；且奄奄一息，有婦何為！」女曰：「我能治之。」某曰：「我病非倉猝可除；縱有良方，其如無貲買藥何！」女曰：「我醫疾不用藥也。」遂以手按趙腹，力摩之。覺其掌熱如火。移時，腹中痞塊，隱隱作解拆聲。又少時，欲登廁。急起，走數武，解衣大下，膠液流離，結塊盡出，覺通體爽快。返臥故處，謂女曰：「娘子何人？祈告姓氏，以便尸祝。」答云：「我狐仙也。君乃唐朝褚遂良，曾有恩於妾家，每銘心欲一圖報。日相尋覓，今始得見，夙願可酬矣。」某自慚形穢，又慮茅屋灶煤，玷染華裳。女但請行。趙乃導入家，土莝無席，灶冷無煙，曰：「無論光景如此，不堪相辱；即卿能甘之，請視甕底空空，又何以養妻子？」女但言：「無慮。」言次，一回頭，見榻上氈席衾褥已設；方將致詰，又轉瞬，見滿室皆銀光紙裱貼如鏡，諸物已悉變易，几案精潔，肴酒並陳矣。遂相歡飲。日暮，與同狎寢，如夫婦。主人聞其異，請一見之，女即出見。無難色。由此四方傳播，造門者甚夥。女並不拒絕。或設筵招之，女必與夫俱。一日，座中一孝廉，陰萌淫念。女已知之，忽加誚讓。即以手推其首；首過櫺外，而身猶在室，出入轉側，皆所不能。因共哀免，方曳出之。積年餘，造請者日益煩，女頗厭之。被拒者輒罵趙。值端陽，飲酒高會，忽一白兔躍入。女起曰：「春藥翁來見召矣！」謂兔曰：「請先行。」兔趨出，逕去。女命趙取梯。趙於舍後負長梯來，高數丈。庭有大樹一章，便倚其上；梯更高於樹杪。女先登，趙亦隨之。女回首曰：「親賓有願從者，當即移步。」眾相視不敢登。惟主人一僮，踴躍從其後。上上益高，梯盡雲接，不可見矣。共視其梯，則多年破扉，去其白板耳。群入其室，灰壁敗灶依然，他無一物。猶意僮返可問，竟終杳已。

XCVII. BRIBERY AND CORRUPTION.

AT Paoting Fu there lived a young man, who having purchased the lowest degree was about to proceed to Peking, in the hope of obtaining, by the aid of a little bribery, an appointment as District Magistrate. His boxes were all ready packed, when he was taken suddenly ill and was confined to his bed for more than a month. One day the servant entered and announced a visitor; whereupon our sick man jumped up and ran to the door as if there was nothing the matter with him. The visitor was elegantly dressed like a man of some position in society; and, after bowing thrice, he walked into the house, explaining that he was Kungsun Hsia, tutor to the Eleventh Prince, and that he had heard our Mr. So-and-so wished to arrange for the purchase of a magistracy. “If that is really so,” added he, “would you not do better to buy a prefecture?” So-and-so thanked him warmly, but said his funds would not be sufficient; upon which Mr. Kungsun declared he should be delighted to assist him with half the purchase money, which he could repay after taking up the post. He went on to say that being on intimate terms with the various provincial Governors the thing could be easily managed for about five thousand taels; and also that at that very moment Chênting Fu being vacant, it would be as well to make an early effort to get the appointment. So-and-so pointed out that this place was in his native province; but Kungsun only laughed at his objection, and reminded him that money could obliterate all distinctions of that kind. This did not seem quite satisfactory; however, Kungsun told him not to be alarmed, as the post of which he was speaking was below in the infernal regions. “The fact is,” said he, “that your term of life has expired, and that your name is already on the death list; by these means you will take your place in the world below as a man of official position. Farewell! in three days we shall meet again.” He then went to the door and mounted his horse and rode away. So-and-so now opened his eyes and spoke a few parting words to his wife and children, bidding them take money from his strong room and go buy large quantities of paper ingots, which they immediately did, quite exhausting all the shops. This was piled in the courtyard with paper images of men, devils, horses, &c., and burning went on day and night until the ashes formed quite a hill. In three days Kungsun returned, bringing with him the money; upon which So-and-so hurried off to the Board of Civil Office, where he had an interview with the high officials, who, after asking his name, warned him to be a pure and upright officer, and then calling him up to the table handed him his letter of appointment. So-and-so bowed and took his leave; but recollecting at once that his purchased degree would not carry much weight with it in the eyes of his subordinates, he sent off to buy elaborate chairs and a number of horses for his retinue, at the same time despatching several devil lictors to fetch his favourite wife in a beautifully adorned sedan chair. All arrangements were just completed when some of the Chênting staff came to meet the new Prefect, others awaiting him all along the line of road, about half a mile in length. He was immensely gratified at this reception, when all of a sudden the gongs before him ceased to sound and the banners were lowered to the ground. He had hardly time to ask what was the matter before he saw those of his servants who were on horseback jump hastily to the ground and dwindle down to about a foot in height, while their horses shrunk to the size of foxes or racoons. One of the attendants near his chariot cried out in alarm, “Here’s Kuan Ti!” and then he, too, jumped out in a fright, and saw in the distance Kuan Ti himself slowly approaching them, followed by four or five retainers on horseback. His great beard covered the lower half of his face, quite unlike ordinary mortals; his aspect was terrible to behold, and his eyes reached nearly to his ears. “Who is this?” roared he to his servants; and they immediately informed him that it was the new Prefect of Chênting. “What!” cried he; “a petty fellow like that to have a retinue like this?” Whereupon So-and-so’s flesh began to creep with fear, and in a few moments he found that he too had shrunk to the size of a little boy of six or seven. Kuan Ti bade his attendants bring the new Prefect with them, and went into a building at the roadside, where he took up his seat facing the south and calling for writing materials told So-and-so to write down his name and address. When this was handed to him he flew into a towering passion, and said, “The scribbly scrawl of a placeman, indeed! Can such a one be entrusted with the welfare of the people? Look me up the record of his good works.” A man then advanced, and whispered something in a low tone; upon which Kuan Ti exclaimed in a loud voice, “The crime of the briber is comparatively trifling; the heavy guilt lies with those who sell official posts for money.” So-and-so was now seized by angels in golden armour, and two of them tore off his cap and robes, and administered to him fifty blows with the bamboo until hardly any flesh remained on his bones. He was then thrust outside the door, and lo! his carriages and horses had disappeared, and he himself was lying, unable to walk for pain, at no great distance from his own house. However, his body seemed as light as a leaf, and in a day and a night he managed to crawl home. When he arrived, he awoke as it were from a dream, and found himself groaning upon the bed; and to the inquiries of his family he only replied that he felt dreadfully sore. Now he really had been dead for seven days; and when he came round thus, he immediately asked for Alien, which was the name of his favourite wife. But the very day before, while chatting with the other members of the family, Alien had suddenly cried out that her husband was made Prefect of Chênting, and that his lictors had come to escort her thither. Accordingly she retired to dress herself in her best clothes, and, when ready to start, she fell back and expired. Hearing this sad story, So-and-so began to mourn and beat his breast, and he would not allow her to be buried at once, in the hope that she might yet come round; but this she never did. Meanwhile So-and-so got slowly better, and by the end of six months was able to walk again. He would often exclaim, “The ruin of my career and the punishment I received—all this I could have endured; but the loss of my dear Alien is more than I can bear.”

公孫夏

　　保定有國學生某，將入都納貲，謀得縣尹。方趣裝而病，月餘不起。忽有僮入曰：「客至。」某亦忘其疾，趨出逆客。客華服類貴者。三揖入舍，叩所自來。客曰：「僕，公孫夏，十一皇子坐客也。聞治裝將圖縣尹，既有是志，太守不更佳耶？」某遜謝，但言：「貲薄，不敢有奢願。」客請效力，俾出半貲，約於任所取盈。某喜求策，客曰：「督、撫皆某最契之交，暫得五千緡，其事濟矣。目前真定缺員，便可急圖。」某訝其本省。客笑曰：「君迂矣！但有孔方在，何問吳、越桑梓 耶？」某終躊躕，疑其不經。客曰：「無須疑惑。實相告：此冥中城隍缺也。君壽盡，已注死籍。乘此營辦，尚可以致冥貴。」即起告別，曰：「君且自謀，三日當復會。」遂出門跨馬去，某忽開眸，與妻子永訣。命出藏鏹，市楮錠萬提，郡中是物為空。堆積庭中，雜芻靈鬼馬，日夜焚之，灰高如山。三日，客果至。某出貲交兌，客即導至部署，見貴官坐殿上，某便伏拜。貴官略審姓名，便勉以「清廉謹慎」等語。乃取憑文，喚至案前與之。某稽首出署。自念監生卑賤，非車服炫耀，不足震懾曹屬。於是益市輿馬；又遣鬼役以彩輿迓其美妾。區畫方已，真定鹵簿已至。途百里餘，一道相屬，意甚得。忽前導者鉦息旗靡。驚疑間，見騎者盡下，悉伏道周；人小徑尺，馬大如狸。車前者駭曰：「關帝至矣！」某懼，下車亦伏，遙見帝君從四五騎，緩轡而至。鬚多繞頰，不似世所模肖者；而神采威猛，目長幾近耳際。馬上問：「此何官？」從者答：「真定守。」帝君曰：「區區一郡，何直得如此張皇！」某聞之，灑然毛悚；身暴縮，自顧如六七歲兒。帝君令起，使隨馬蹤行。道傍有殿宇，帝君入，南向坐，命以筆札，俾自書鄉貫姓名。某書已，呈進。帝君視之，怒曰：「字訛誤不成形象！此市儈耳，何足以任民社！」又命稽其德籍。傍一人跪奏，不知何詞。帝君厲聲曰：「干進罪小，賣爵罪重！」旋見金甲神綰鎖去。遂有二人捉某，褫去冠服，笞五十，臀肉幾脫，逐出門外。四顧車馬盡空，痛不能步，偃息草間。細認其處，離家尚不甚遠。幸身輕如葉，一晝夜始抵家。豁若夢醒，床上呻吟。家人集問，但言股痛。蓋瞑然若死者，已七日矣，至是始寤。便問：「阿憐何不來。」──蓋妾小字也。先是，阿憐方坐談，忽曰：「彼為真定太守，差役來接我矣。」乃入室麗妝，妝竟而卒，才隔夜耳。家人述其異。某悔恨椎胸，命停尸勿葬，冀其復還。數日杳然，乃葬之。某病漸瘳，但股瘡大劇，半年始起。每自曰：「官貲盡耗，而橫被冥刑，此尚可忍；但愛妾不知舁向何所，清夜所難堪耳。」

　　異史氏曰：「嗟乎！市儈固不足南面哉！冥中既有線索，恐夫子馬蹤所不及到，作威福者，正不勝誅耳。吾鄉郭華野先生傳有一事，與此頗類，亦人中之神也。先生以清骾受主知，再起總制荊楚。行李蕭然，惟四五人從之，衣履皆敝陋。途中人皆不知為貴官也。適有新令赴任，道與相值。駝車二十餘乘，前驅數十騎，騶從以百計。先生亦不知其何官，時先之，時後之，時以數騎雜其伍。彼前馬者怒其擾，輒訶卻之。先生亦不顧瞻。亡何，至一巨鎮，兩俱休止。乃使人潛訪之，則一國學生，加納赴任湖南者也。乃遣一价召之使來。令聞呼駭疑；及詰官閥，始知為先生，悚懼無以為地。冠帶蒲伏而前。先生問：『汝即某縣縣尹耶？』答曰：『然。』先生曰：『蕞爾一邑，何能養如許騶從？履任，則一方塗炭矣！不可使殃民社，可即旋歸，勿前矣。』令叩首曰：『下官尚有文憑。」先生即令取憑，審驗已，曰：『此亦細事，代若繳之可耳。』令伏拜而出，歸途不知何以為情，而先生行矣。世有未蒞任而已受考成者，實所創聞。蓋先生奇人，故信其有此快事耳。」

XCVIII. A CHINESE JONAH.

A MAN named Sun Pichên was crossing the river when a great thundersquall broke upon the vessel and caused her to toss about fearfully, to the great terror of all the passengers. Just then, an angel in golden armour appeared standing upon the clouds above them, holding in his hand a scroll inscribed with certain characters, also written in gold, which the people on the vessel easily made out to be three in number, namely Sun Pichên. So, turning at once to their fellowtraveller, they said to him, “You have evidently incurred the displeasure of Heaven; get into a boat by yourself, and do not involve us in your punishment.” And without giving him time to reply whether he would do so or not, they hurried him over the side into a small boat and set him adrift; but when Sun Pichên looked back, lo! the vessel itself had capsized.

孫必振

　　孫必振渡江，值大風雷，舟船蕩搖，同舟大恐。忽見金甲神立雲中，手持金字牌下示；諸人共仰視之，上書「孫必振」三字，甚真。眾謂孫：「必汝有犯天譴，請自為一舟，勿相累。」孫尚無言，眾不待其肯可，視旁有小舟，共推置其上。孫既登舟，回首，則前舟覆矣。

XCIX. CHANG PULIANG.

A CERTAIN trader who was travelling in the province of Chihli, being overtaken by a storm of rain and hail, took shelter among some standing crops by the wayside. There he heard a voice from heaven, saying, “These are Chang Puliang’s fields; do not injure his crops.” The trader began to wonder who this Chang Puliang could be, and how, if he was pu liang (not virtuous), he came to be under divine protection; so when the storm was over and he had reached the neighbouring village, he made enquiries on the subject, and told the people there what he had heard. The villagers then informed him that Chang Puliang was a very wealthy farmer, who was accustomed every spring to make loans of grain to the poor of the district, and who was not too particular about getting back the exact amount he had lent,—taking, in fact, whatever they brought him without discussion; hence the sobriquet of pu liang “no measure” (i.e., the man who doesn’t measure the repayments of his loans). After that, they all proceeded in a body to the fields, where it was discovered that vast damage had been done to the crops generally, with the exception of Chang Puliang’s, which had escaped uninjured.

張不量

　　賈人某，至直隸界，忽大雨雹，伏禾中。聞空中云：「此張不量田，勿傷其稼。」賈私意張氏既云「不良」，何反祐護。雹止，入村，訪問其人，且問取名之義。蓋張素封，積粟甚富。每春間貧民就貸，償時多寡不校，悉內之，未嘗執概取盈，故名「不量」，非不良也。眾趨田中，見稞穗摧折如麻，獨張氏諸田無恙。

C. The Dutch Carpet.

FORMERLY, when the Dutch were permitted to trade with China, the officer in command of the coast defences would not allow them, on account of their great numbers, to come ashore. The Dutch begged very hard for the grant of a piece of land such as a carpet would cover; and the officer abovementioned, thinking that this could not be very large, acceded to their request. A carpet was accordingly laid down, big enough for about two people to stand on; but by dint of stretching, it was soon enough for four or five; and so they went on, stretching and stretching, until at last it covered about an acre, and by-and-by, with the help of their knives, they had filched a piece of ground several miles in extent.

紅毛氈

　　紅毛國，舊許與中國相貿易。邊帥見其眾，不許登岸。紅毛人固請：「賜一氈地足矣。」帥思一氈所容無幾，許之。其人置氈岸上，僅容二人；拉之，容四五人；且拉且登，頃刻氈大畝許，已數百人矣。短刃並發，出於不意，被掠數里而去。

CI. CARRYING A CORPSE.

A WOODSMAN who had been to market was returning home with his pole across his shoulder, when suddenly he felt it become very heavy at the end behind him, and looking round he saw attached to it the headless trunk of a man. In great alarm, he got his pole quit of the burden and struck about him right and left, whereupon the body disappeared. He then hurried on to the next village, and when he arrived there in the dusk of the evening, he found several men holding lights to the ground as if looking for something. On asking what was the matter, they told him that while sitting together a man’s head had fallen from the sky into their midst; that they had noticed the hair and beard were all draggled, but in a moment the head had vanished. The woodsman then related what had happened to himself; and thus one whole man was accounted for, though no one could tell whence he came. Subsequently, another man was carrying a basket when some one saw a man’s head in it, and called out to him; whereupon he dropped the basket in a fright, and the head rolled away and disappeared.

負尸

　　有樵夫赴市，荷杖而歸，忽覺杖頭如有重負。回顧，見一無頭人懸繫其上。大驚，脫杖亂擊之，遂不復見。駭奔，至一村。時已昏暮，有數人爇火照地，似有所尋。近問訊，蓋眾適聚坐，忽空中墮一人頭，鬚髮蓬然，倏忽已渺。樵人亦言所見，合之適成一人，究不解其何來。後有人荷籃而行，忽見其中有人頭，人訝詰之，始大驚，傾諸地上，宛轉而沒。

CII. A TAOIST DEVOTEE.

CHÜ YAOJU was a Ch‘ingchou man, who, when his wife died, left his home and became a priest. Some years afterwards he returned, dressed in the Taoist garb, and carrying his prayingmat over his shoulder; and after staying one night he wanted to go away again. His friends, however, would not give him back his cassock and staff; so at length he pretended to take a stroll outside the village, and when there, his clothes and other belongings came flying out of the house after him, and he got safely away.

鞠樂如

　　鞠樂如，青州人。妻死，棄家而去。後數年，道服荷蒲團至。經宿欲去，戚族強留其衣杖。鞠託閒步至村外，室中服具，皆冉冉飛出，隨之而去。

CIII. JUSTICE FOR REBELS.

DURING the reign of Shun Chih, of the people of T‘êngi, seven in ten were opposed to the Manchu dynasty. The officials dared not touch them; and subsequently, when the country became more settled, the magistrates used to distinguish them from the others by always deciding any cases in their favour: for they feared lest these men should revert to their old opposition. And thus it came about that one litigant would begin by declaring himself to have been a “rebel,” while his adversary would follow up by shewing such statement to be false; so that before any case could be heard on its actual merits, it was necessary to determine the status both of plaintiff and defendant, whereby infinite labour was entailed upon the Registrars.

Now it chanced that the yamên of one of the officials was haunted by a fox, and the official’s daughter was bewitched by it. Her father, therefore, engaged the services of a magician, who succeeded in capturing the animal and putting it into a bottle; but just as he was going to commit it to the flames, the fox cried out from inside the bottle, “I’m a rebel!” at which the bystanders were unable to suppress their laughter.

盜戶

　　順治間，滕、嶧之區，十人而七盜，官不敢捕。後受撫，邑宰別之為「盜戶」。凡值與良民爭，則曲意左袒之，蓋恐其復叛也。後訟者輒冒稱盜戶，而怨家則力攻其偽；每兩造具陳，曲直且置不辨，而先以盜之真偽，反復相苦，煩有司稽籍焉。適官署多狐，宰有女為所惑，聘術士來，符捉入瓶，將熾以火。狐在瓶內大呼曰：「我盜戶也！」聞者無不匿笑。

　　異史氏曰：「今有明火劫人者，官不以為盜而以為姦；踰牆行淫者，每不自認姦而自認盜：世局又一變矣。設今日官署有狐，亦必大呼曰『吾盜』無疑也。」

　　章丘漕糧徭役，以及徵收火耗，小民常數倍於紳衿，故有田者爭求託焉。雖於國課無傷，而實於官橐有損。邑令鐘，牒請釐弊，得可。初使自首；既而奸民以此要上，數十年鬻去之產，皆誣託詭挂，以訟售主。令悉左袒之，故良懦者多喪其產。有李生為某甲所訟，同赴質審。甲呼之「秀才」；李厲聲爭辯，不居秀才之名。喧不已。令詰左右，共指為真秀才。令問：「何故不承？」李曰：「秀才且置高閣，待爭地後，再作之未晚也。」噫！以盜之名，則爭冒之；以秀才之名，則爭辭之：變異矣哉！有人投匿名狀云：告狀人原壤，為抗法吞產事：身以年老不能當差，有負郭田五十畝，於隱公元年，暫挂惡衿顏淵名下。今功令森嚴，理合自首。詎惡久假不歸，霸為己有。身往理說，被伊師率惡黨七十二人，毒杖交加，傷殘脛肢；又將身鎖置陋巷，日給簟食瓢飲，囚餓幾死。互鄉地証，叩乞革頂嚴究，俾血產歸主，上告。」此可以繼柳跖之告夷、齊矣。

CIV. THEFT OF THE PEACH.

WHEN I was a little boy I went one day to the prefectural city. It was the time of the Spring festival, and the custom was that on the day before, all the merchants of the place should proceed with banners and drums to the judge’s yamên: this was called “bringing in the Spring.” I went with a friend to see the fun; the crowd was immense, and there sat the officials in crimson robes arranged right and left in the hall; but I was small and didn’t know who they were, my attention being attracted chiefly by the hum of voices and the noise of the drums. In the middle of it all, a man leading a boy with his hair unplaited and hanging down his back, walked up to the dais. He carried a pole on his shoulder, and appeared to be saying something which I couldn’t hear for the noise; I only saw the officials smile, and immediately afterwards an attendant came down, and in a loud voice ordered the man to give a performance. “What shall it be?” asked the man in reply; whereupon, after some consultation between the officials on the dais, the attendant inquired what he could do best. The man said he could invert the order of nature; and then, after another pause, he was instructed to produce some peaches; to this he assented; and taking off his coat, laid it on his box, at the same time observing that they had set him a hard task, the winter frost not having broken up, and adding that he was afraid the gentlemen would be angry with him, &c., &c. His son here reminded him that he had agreed to the task and couldn’t well get out of it; so, after fretting and grumbling awhile, he cried out, “I have it! with snow on the ground we shall never get peaches here; but I guess there are some up in heaven in the Royal Mother’s garden, and there we must try.” “How are we to get up, father?” asked the boy; whereupon the man said, “I have the means,” and immediately proceeded to take from his box a cord some tens of feet in length. This he carefully arranged, and then threw one end of it high up into the air where it remained as if caught by something. He now paid out the rope which kept going up higher and higher until the end he had thrown up disappeared in the clouds and only a short piece was left in his hands. Calling his son, he then explained that he himself was too heavy, and, handing him the end of the rope, bid him go up at once. The boy, however, made some difficulty, objecting that the rope was too thin to bear his weight up to such a height, and that he would surely fall down and be killed; upon which his father said that his promise had been given and that repentance was now too late, adding that if the peaches were obtained they would surely be rewarded with a hundred ounces of silver, which should be set aside to get the boy a pretty wife. So his son seized the rope and swarmed up, like a spider running up a thread of its web; and in a few moments he was out of sight in the clouds. By-and-by down fell a peach as large as a basin, which the delighted father handed up to his patrons on the dais who were some time coming to a conclusion whether it was real or imitation. But just then down came the rope with a run, and the affrighted father shrieked out, “Alas! alas! some one has cut the rope: what will my boy do now?” and in another minute down fell something else, which was found on examination to be his son’s head. “Ah me!” said he, weeping bitterly and shewing the head; “the gardener has caught him, and my boy is no more.” After that, his arms, and legs, and body, all came down in like manner; and the father, gathering them up, put them in the box and said, “This was my only son, who accompanied me everywhere; and now what a cruel fate is his. I must away and bury him.” He then approached the dais and said, “Your peach, gentlemen, was obtained at the cost of my boy’s life; help me now to pay his funeral expenses, and I will be ever grateful to you.” The officials who had been watching the scene in horror and amazement, forthwith collected a good purse for him; and when he had received the money, he rapped on his box and said, “Papa‘rh! why don’t you come out and thank the gentlemen?” Thereupon, there was a thump on the box from the inside and up came the boy himself, who jumped out and bowed to the assembled company. I have never forgotten this strange trick, which I subsequently heard could be done by the White Lily sect, who probably got it from this source.

偷桃

　　童時赴郡試，值春節。舊例，先一日，各行商賈，綵樓鼓吹赴藩司，名曰：「演春」。余從友人戲矚。是日遊人如堵。堂上四官，皆赤衣，東西相嚮坐。時方稚，亦不解其何官。但聞人語嚌嘈，鼓吹聒耳。忽有一人，率披發童，荷擔而上，似有所白；萬聲洶動，亦不聞為何語。但視堂上作笑聲。即有青衣人大聲命作劇。其人應命方興，問：「作何劇？」堂上相顧數語。吏下宣問所長。答言：「能顛倒生物。」吏以白官。少頃復下，命取桃子。術人聲諾，解衣覆笥上，故作怨狀，曰：「官長殊不了了！堅冰未解，安所得桃？不取，又恐為南面者所怒。奈何！」其子曰：「父已諾之，又焉辭？」術人惆悵良久，乃云：「我籌之爛熟。春初雪積，人間何處可覓？惟王母園中，四時常不凋謝，或有之。必竊之天上，乃可。」子曰：「嘻！天可階而升乎？」曰：「有術在。」乃啟笥，出繩一團，約數十丈，理其端，望空中擲去；繩即懸立空際，若有物以掛之。未幾，愈擲愈高，渺入雲中；手中繩亦盡。乃呼子曰：「兒來！余老憊，體重拙，不能行，得汝一往。」遂以繩授子，曰：「持此可登。」子受繩，有難色，怨曰：「阿翁亦大憒憒！如此一線之繩，欲我附之，以登萬仞之高天。倘中道斷絕，骸骨何存矣！」父又強嗚拍之，曰：「我已失口，悔無及。煩兒一行。兒勿苦，倘竊得來，必有百金賞，當為兒娶一美婦。」子乃持索，盤旋而上，手移足隨，如蛛趁絲，漸入雲霄，不可復見。久之，附一桃，如碗大。術人喜，持獻公堂。堂上傳示良久，亦不知其真偽。忽而繩落地上，術人驚曰：「殆矣！上有人斷吾繩，兒將焉托！」移時，一物墮。視之，其子首也。捧而泣曰：「是必偷桃為監者所覺，吾兒休矣！」又移時，一足落；無何，肢體紛墮，無復存者。術人大悲，一一拾置笥中而合之，曰：「老夫止此兒，日從我南北游。今承嚴命，不意罹此奇慘！當負去瘞之。」乃昇堂而跪，曰：「為桃故，殺吾子矣！如憐小人而助之葬，當結草以圖報耳。」坐官駭詫，各有賜金。術人受而纏諸腰，乃扣笥而呼曰：「八八兒，不出謝賞，將何待？」忽一蓬頭僮首抵笥蓋而出，望北稽首，則其子也。以其術奇，故至今猶記之。後聞白蓮教能為此術，意此其苗裔耶？

CV. KILLING A SERPENT.

AT Kuchi island in the eastern sea, there were camellias of all colours which bloomed throughout the year. No one, however, lived there, and very few people ever visited the spot. One day, a young man of Têngchou, named Chang, who was fond of hunting and adventure, hearing of the beauties of the place, put together some wine and food, and rowed himself across in a small open boat. The flowers were just then even finer than usual, and their perfume was diffused for a mile or so around; while many of the trees he saw were several armfuls in circumference. So he roamed about and gave himself up to enjoyment of the scene; and by-and-by he opened a flask of wine, regretting very much that he had no companion to share it with him, when all of a sudden a most beautiful young girl, with extremely bright eyes and dressed in red, stepped down from one of the camellias before him. “Dear me!” said she on seeing Mr. Chang; “I expected to be alone here, and was not aware that the place was already occupied.” Chang was somewhat alarmed at this apparition, and asked the young lady whence she came; to which she replied that her name was Chiaoch‘ang, and that she had accompanied thither a Mr. Hai, who had gone off for a stroll and had left her to await his return. Thereupon Chang begged her to join him in a cup of wine, which she very willingly did, and they were just beginning to enjoy themselves when a sound of rushing wind was heard and the trees and plants bent beneath it. “Here’s Mr. Hai!” cried the young lady; and jumping quickly up, disappeared in a moment. The horrified Chang now beheld a huge serpent coming out of the bushes near by, and immediately ran behind a large tree for shelter, hoping the reptile would not see him. But the serpent advanced and enveloped both Chang and the tree in its great folds, binding Chang’s arms down to his sides so as to prevent him from moving them; and then raising its head, darted out its tongue and bit the poor man’s nose, causing the blood to flow freely out. This blood it was quietly sucking up, when Chang, who thought that his last hour had come, remembered that he had in his pocket some fox poison; and managing to insert a couple of fingers, he drew out the packet, broke the paper, and let the powder lie in the palm of his hand. He next leaned his hand over the serpent’s coils in such a way that the blood from his nose dripped into his hand, and when it was nearly full the serpent actually did begin to drink it. And in a few moments the grip was relaxed; the serpent struck the ground heavily with its tail, and dashed away up against another tree, which was broken in half, and then stretched itself out and died. Chang was a long time unable to rise, but at length he got up and carried the serpent off with him. He was very ill for more than a month afterwards, and even suspected the young lady of being a serpent, too, in disguise.

海公子

東海古蹟島，有五色耐冬花，四時不凋。而島中古無居人，人亦罕到之。登州張生，好奇，喜游獵。聞其佳勝，備酒食，自掉扁舟而往。至則花正繁，香聞數裡；樹有大至十余圍者。反復留連，甚慊所好。開尊自酌，恨無同游。忽花中一麗人來，紅裳眩目，略無倫比。見張，笑曰：「妾自謂興致不凡，不圖先有同調。」張驚問：「何人？」曰：「我膠娼也。適從海公子來。彼尋勝翱翔，妾以艱于步履，故留此耳。」張方苦寂，得美人，大悅，招坐共飲。女言詞溫婉，蕩人神志。張愛好之，恐海公子來，不得盡歡，因挽與亂。女忻從之。相狎未已，忽聞風肅肅，草木偃折有聲。女急推張起，曰：「海公子至矣。」張束衣愕顧，女已失去，旋見一大蛇，自叢樹中出，粗于巨筒。張懼，幛身大樹後，冀蛇不睹。蛇近前，以身繞人並樹，糾纏數匝；兩臂直束胯間，不可少屈。昂其首，以舌刺張鼻。鼻血下注，流地上成窪，乃俯就飲之。張自分必死，忽憶腰中佩荷囊，有毒狐藥，因以二指夾出，破裹堆掌中；又側頸自顧其掌，令血滴藥上，頃刻盈把。蛇果就掌吸飲。飲未及盡，遽伸其體，擺尾若霹靂聲，觸樹，樹半體崩落，蛇臥地如梁而斃矣。張亦眩，莫能起，移時方蘇。載蛇而歸，大病月余，疑女子亦蛇精也。

CVI. THE RESUSCITATED CORPSE.

A CERTAIN old man lived at Ts‘aitien, in the Yanghsin district. The village was some miles from the district city, and he and his son kept a roadside inn where travellers could pass the night. One day, as it was getting dusk, four strangers presented themselves and asked for a night’s lodging; to which the landlord replied that every bed was already occupied. The four men declared it was impossible for them to go back, and urged him to take them in somehow; and at length the landlord said he could give them a place to sleep in if they were not too particular,—which the strangers immediately assured him they were not. The fact was that the old man’s daughter-in-law had just died, and that her body was lying in the women’s quarters, waiting for the coffin, which his son had gone away to buy. So the landlord led them round thither, and walking in, placed a lamp on the table. At the further end of the room lay the corpse, decked out with paper robes, &c., in the usual way; and in the foremost section were sleeping couches for four people. The travellers were tired, and, throwing themselves on the beds, were soon snoring loudly, with the exception of one of them, who was not quite off when suddenly he heard a creaking of the trestles on which the dead body was laid out, and, opening his eyes, he saw by the light of the lamp in front of the corpse that the girl was raising the coverings from her and preparing to get down. In another moment she was on the floor and advancing towards the sleepers. Her face was of a light yellow hue, and she had a silk kerchief round her head; and when she reached the beds she blew on the other three travellers, whereupon the fourth, in a great fright, stealthily drew up the bedclothes over his face, and held his breath to listen. He heard her breathe on him as she had done on the others, and then heard her go back again and get under the paper robes, which rustled distinctly as she did so. He now put out his head to take a peep, and saw that she was lying down as before; whereupon, not daring to make any noise, he stretched forth his foot and kicked his companions, who, however, shewed no signs of moving. He now determined to put on his clothes and make a bolt for it; but he had hardly begun to do so before he heard the creaking sound again, which sent him back under the bedclothes as fast as he could go. Again the girl came to him, and breathing several times on him, went away to lie down as before, as he could tell by the noise of the trestles. He then put his hand very gently out of bed, and, seizing his trousers, got quickly into them, jumped up with a bound, and rushed out of the place as fast as his legs would carry him. The corpse, too, jumped up; but by this time the traveller had already drawn the bolt, and was outside the door, running along and shrieking at the top of his voice, with the corpse following close behind. No one seemed to hear him, and he was afraid to knock at the door of the inn for fear they should not let him in in time; so he made for the highway to the city, and after a while he saw a monastery by the roadside, and, hearing the “wooden fish,” he ran up and thumped with all his might at the gate. The priest, however, did not know what to make of it, and would not open to him; and as the corpse was only a few yards off, he could do nothing but run behind a tree which stood close by, and there shelter himself, dodging to the right as the corpse dodged to the left, and so on. This infuriated the dead girl to madness; and at length, as tired and panting they stood watching each other on opposite sides of the tree, the corpse made a rush forward with one arm on each side in the hope of thus grabbing its victim. The traveller, however, fell backwards and escaped, while the corpse remained rigidly embracing the tree. By-and-by the priest, who had been listening from the inside, hearing no sounds for some time, came out and found the traveller lying senseless on the ground; whereupon he had him carried into the monastery, and by morning they had got him round again. After giving him a little broth to drink, he related the whole story; and then in the early dawn they went out to examine the tree, where they found the girl fixed tightly to the tree. The news being sent to the magistrate, that functionary attended at once in person, and gave orders to remove the body; but this they were at first unable to do, the girl’s fingers having penetrated into the bark so far that her nails were not to be seen. At length they got her away, and then a messenger was despatched to the inn, already in a state of great commotion over the three travellers, who had been found dead in their beds. The old man accordingly sent to fetch his daughter-in-law; and the surviving traveller petitioned the magistrate, saying, “Four of us left home, but only one will go back. Give me something that I may show to my fellow townsmen.” So the magistrate gave him a certificate and sent him home again.

尸變

　　陽信某翁者，邑之蔡店人。村去城五六里，父子設臨路店，宿行商。有車伕數人，往來負販，輒寓其家。一日昏暮，四人偕來，望門投止，則翁家各客宿邸滿。四人計無復之，堅請容納。翁沉吟思得一所，似恐不當客意。客言：「但求一席廈宇，更不敢有所擇。」時翁有子婦新死，停尸室中，子出購材木未歸。翁以靈所室寂，遂穿衢導客往。入其廬，燈昏案上；案後有搭帳衣，紙衾覆逝者。又觀寢所，則復室中有連榻。四客奔波頗困，甫就枕，鼻息漸粗。惟一客尚朦朧。忽聞靈床上察察有聲，急開目，則靈前燈火，照視甚了：女尸已揭衾起；俄而下，漸入臥室。面淡金色，生絹抹額。俯近榻前，遍吹臥客者三。客大懼，恐將及己，潛引被覆首，閉息忍咽以聽之。未幾，女果來，吹之如諸客。覺出房去，即聞紙衾聲。出首微窺，見僵臥猶初矣。客懼甚，不敢作聲，陰以足踏諸客；而諸客絕無少動。顧念無計，不如著衣以竄。裁起振衣，而察察之聲又作。客懼，復伏，縮首衾中。覺女復來，連續吹數數始去。少間，聞靈床作響，知其復臥。乃從被底漸漸出手得褲，遽就著之，白足奔出。尸亦起，似將逐客。比其離幃，而客已拔關出矣。尸馳從之。客且奔且號，村中人無有警者。欲扣主人之門，又恐遲為所及。遂望邑城路，極力竄去。至東郊，瞥見蘭若，聞木魚聲，乃急撾山門。道人訝其非常，又不即納。旋踵，尸已至，去身盈尺。客窘益甚。門外有白楊，圍四五尺許，因以樹自幛；彼右則左之，彼左則右之。尸益怒。然各浸倦矣。尸頓立。客汗促氣逆，庇樹間。尸暴起，伸兩臂隔樹探扑之。客驚仆。尸捉之不得，抱樹而僵。

　　道人竊聽良久，無聲，始漸出，見客臥地上。燭之死，然心下絲絲有動氣。負入，終夜始蘇。飲以湯水而問之，客具以狀對。時晨鐘已盡，曉色迷蒙，道人覘樹上，果見僵女。大駭，報邑宰。宰親詣質驗。使人拔女手，牢不可開。審諦之，則左右四指，並卷如鉤，入木沒甲。又數人力拔，乃得下。視指穴如鑿孔然。遣役探翁家，則以尸亡客斃，紛紛正嘩。役告之故。翁乃從往，舁尸歸。客泣告宰曰：「身四人出，今一人歸，此情何以信鄉里？」宰與之牒，齎送以歸。

CVII. THE FISHERMAN AND HIS FRIEND.

IN the northern parts of Tzŭchou there lived a man named Hsü, a fisherman by trade. Every night when he went to fish he would carry some wine with him, and drink and fish by turns, always taking care to pour out a libation on the ground, accompanied by the following invocation:—“Drink too, ye drowned spirits of the river!” Such was his regular custom; and it was also noticeable that, even on occasions when the other fishermen caught nothing, he always got a full basket. One night, as he was sitting drinking by himself, a young man suddenly appeared and began walking up and down near him. Hsü offered him a cup of wine, which was readily accepted, and they remained chatting together throughout the night, Hsü meanwhile not catching a single fish. However, just as he was giving up all hope of doing anything, the young man rose and said he would go a little way down the stream and beat them up towards Hsü, which he accordingly did, returning in a few minutes and warning him to be on the lookout. Hsü now heard a noise like that of a shoal coming up the stream, and, casting his net, made a splendid haul,—all that he caught being over a foot in length. Greatly delighted, he now prepared to go home, first offering his companion a share of the fish, which the latter declined, saying that he had often received kindnesses from Mr. Hsü, and that he would be only too happy to help him regularly in the same manner if Mr. Hsü would accept his assistance. The latter replied that he did not recollect ever meeting him before, and that he should be much obliged for any aid the young man might choose to afford him; regretting, at the same time, his inability to make him any adequate return. He then asked the young man his name and surname; and the young man said his surname was Wang, adding that Hsü might address him when they met as Wang Liulang, he having no other name. Thereupon they parted, and the next day Hsü sold his fish and bought some more wine, with which he repaired as usual to the river bank. There he found his companion already awaiting him, and they spent the night together in precisely the same way as the preceding one, the young man beating up the fish for him as before. This went on for some months, until at length one evening the young man, with many expressions of his thanks and his regrets, told Hsü that they were about to part for ever. Much alarmed by the melancholy tone in which his friend had communicated this news, Hsü was on the point of asking for an explanation, when the young man stopped him, and himself proceeded as follows:—“The friendship that has grown up between us is truly surprising; and, now that we shall meet no more, there is no harm in telling you the whole truth. I am a disembodied spirit—the soul of one who was drowned in this river when tipsy. I have been here many years, and your former success in fishing was due to the fact that I used secretly to beat up the fish towards you, in return for the libations you were accustomed to pour out. Tomorrow my time is up: my substitute will arrive, and I shall be born again in the world of mortals. We have but this one evening left, and I therefore take advantage of it to express my feelings to you.” On hearing these words, Hsü was at first very much alarmed; however, he had grown so accustomed to his friend’s society, that his fears soon passed away; and, filling up a goblet, he said, with a sigh, “Liulang, old fellow, drink this up, and away with melancholy. It’s hard to lose you; but I’m glad enough for your sake, and won’t think of my own sorrow.” He then inquired of Liulang who was to be his substitute; to which the latter replied, “Come to the riverbank tomorrow afternoon and you’ll see a woman drowned: she is the one.” Just then the village cocks began to crow, and, with tears in their eyes, the two friends bade each other farewell.

Next day Hsü waited on the river bank to see if anything would happen, and lo! a woman carrying a child in her arms came along. When close to the edge of the river, she stumbled and fell into the water, managing, however, to throw the child safely on to the bank, where it lay kicking and sprawling and crying at the top of its voice. The woman herself sank and rose several times, until at last she succeeded in clutching hold of the bank and pulled herself, dripping, out; and then, after resting awhile, she picked up the child and went on her way. All this time Hsü had been in a great state of excitement, and was on the point of running to help the woman out of the water; but he remembered that she was to be the substitute of his friend, and accordingly restrained himself from doing so. Then when he saw the woman get out by herself, he began to suspect that Liulang’s words had not been fulfilled. That night he went to fish as usual, and before long the young man arrived and said, “We meet once again: there is no need now to speak of separation.” Hsü asked him how it was so; to which he replied, “The woman you saw had already taken my place, but I could not bear to hear the child cry, and I saw that my one life would be purchased at the expense of their two lives, wherefore I let her go, and now I cannot say when I shall have another chance. The union of our destinies may not yet be worked out.” “Alas!” sighed Hsü, “this noble conduct of yours is enough to move God Almighty.”

After this the two friends went on much as they had done before, until one day Liulang again said he had come to bid Hsü farewell. Hsü thought he had found another substitute, but Liulang told him that his former behaviour had so pleased Almighty Heaven, that he had been appointed guardian angel of Wuchên, in the Chaoyüan district, and that on the following morning he would start for his new post. “And if you do not forget the days of our friendship,” added he, “I pray you come and see me, in spite of the long journey.” “Truly,” replied Hsü, “you well deserved to be made a God; but the paths of Gods and men lie in different directions, and even if the distance were nothing, how should I manage to meet you again?” “Don’t be afraid on that score,” said Liulang, “but come;” and then he went away, and Hsü returned home. The latter immediately began to prepare for the journey, which caused his wife to laugh at him and say, “Supposing you do find such a place at the end of that long journey, you won’t be able to hold a conversation with a clay image.” Hsü, however, paid no attention to her remarks, and travelled straight to Chaoyüan, where he learned from the inhabitants that there really was a village called Wuchên, whither he forthwith proceeded and took up his abode at an inn. He then inquired of the landlord where the village temple was; to which the latter replied by asking him somewhat hurriedly if he was speaking to Mr. Hsü. Hsü informed him that his name was Hsü, asking in reply how he came to know it; whereupon the landlord further inquired if his native place was not Tzŭchou. Hsü told him it was, and again asked him how he knew all this; to which the landlord made no answer, but rushed out of the room; and in a few moments the place was crowded with old and young, men, women, and children, all come to visit Hsü. They then told him that a few nights before they had seen their guardian deity in a vision, and he had informed them that Mr. Hsü would shortly arrive, and had bidden them to provide him with travelling expenses, &c. Hsü was very much astonished at this, and went off at once to the shrine, where he invoked his friend as follows:—“Ever since we parted I have had you daily and nightly in my thoughts; and now that I have fulfilled my promise of coming to see you, I have to thank you for the orders you have issued to the people of the place. As for me, I have nothing to offer you but a cup of wine, which I pray you accept as though we were drinking together on the riverbank.” He then burnt a quantity of paper money, when lo! a wind suddenly arose, which, after whirling round and round behind the shrine, soon dropped, and all was still. That night Hsü dreamed that his friend came to him, dressed in his official cap and robes, and very different in appearance from what he used to be, and thanked him, saying, “It is truly kind of you to visit me thus: I only regret that my position makes me unable to meet you face to face, and that though near we are still so far. The people here will give you a trifle, which pray accept for my sake; and when you go away, I will see you a short way on your journey.” A few days afterwards Hsü prepared to start, in spite of the numerous invitations to stay which poured in upon him from all sides; and then the inhabitants loaded him with presents of all kinds, and escorted him out of the village. There a whirlwind arose and accompanied him several miles, when he turned round and invoked his friend thus:—“Liulang, take care of your valued person. Do not trouble yourself to come any farther. Your noble heart will ensure happiness to this district, and there is no occasion for me to give a word of advice to my old friend.” By-and-by the whirlwind ceased, and the villagers, who were much astonished, returned to their own homes. Hsü, too, travelled homewards, and being now a man of some means, ceased to work any more as a fisherman. And whenever he met a Chaoyüan man he would ask him about that guardian angel, being always informed in reply that he was a most beneficent God. Some say the place was Shihk‘êngchuang, in Changch‘in: I can’t say which it was myself.

王六郎

　　許姓，家淄之北郭，業漁。每夜，攜酒河上，飲且漁。飲則酹地，祝云：「河中溺鬼得飲。」以為常。他人漁，迄無所獲，而許獨滿筐。一夕，方獨酌，有少年來，徘徊其側。讓之飲，慨與同酌。既而終夜不獲一魚，意頗失。少年起曰：「請于下流為君驅之。」遂飄然去。少間，復返，曰：「魚大至矣。」果聞唼呷有聲。舉網而得數頭，皆盈尺。喜極，申謝。欲歸，贈以魚，不受，曰：「屢叨佳醞，區區何足云報。如不棄，要當以為長耳。」許曰：「方共一夕，何言屢也？如肯永顧，誠所甚願；但愧無以為情。」詢其姓字，曰：「姓王，無字，相見可呼王六郎。」遂別。明日，許貨魚，益沽酒。晚至河干，少年已先在，遂與歡飲。飲數杯，輒為許驅魚。

　　如是半載。忽告許曰：「拜識清揚，情逾骨肉。然相別有日矣。」語甚悽楚。驚問之。欲言而止者再，乃曰：「情好如吾兩人，言之或勿訝耶？今將別，無妨明告：我實鬼也。素嗜酒，沉醉溺死，數年于此矣。前君之獲魚，獨勝于他人者，皆仆之暗驅，以報酹奠耳。明日業滿，當有代者，將往投生。相聚只今夕，故不能無感。」許初聞甚駭；然親狎既久，不復恐怖。因亦欷歔，酌而言曰：「六郎飲此，勿戚也。相見遽違，良足悲惻，然業滿劫脫，正宜相賀，悲乃不倫。」遂與暢飲。因問：「代者何人？」曰：「兄于河畔視之，亭午，有女子渡河而溺者，是也。」聽村雞既唱，灑涕而別。明日，敬伺河邊，以覘其異。果有婦人抱嬰兒來，及河而墮。兒拋岸上，揚手擲足而啼。婦沉浮者屢矣，忽淋淋攀岸以出，藉地少息，抱兒徑去。當婦溺時，意良不忍，思欲奔救，轉念是所以代六郎者，故止不救。及婦自出，疑其言不驗。抵暮，漁舊處。少年復至，曰：「今又聚首，且不言別矣。」問其故。曰：「女子已相代矣；仆憐其抱中兒，代弟一人，遂殘二命，故舍之。更代不知何期。或吾兩人之緣未盡耶？」許感嘆曰：「此仁人之心，可以通上帝矣。」由此盯聚如初。數日，又來告別。許疑其復有代者。曰：「非也。前一念惻隱，果達帝天。今授為招遠縣鄔鎮土地，來日赴任。倘不忘故交，當一往探，勿憚修阻。」許賀曰：「君正直為神，甚慰人心。但人神路隔，即不憚修阻，將復如何？」少年曰：「但往，勿慮。」再三叮嚀而去。

　　許歸，即欲治裝東下。妻笑曰：「此去數百里，即有其地，恐土偶不可以共語。」許不聽，竟抵招遠。問之居人，果有鄔鎮。尋至其處，息肩逆旅，問祠所在。主人驚曰：「得無客姓為許？」許曰：「然。何見知？」又曰：「得勿客邑為淄？」曰：「然。何見知？」主人不答，遽出。俄而丈夫抱子，媳女窺門，雜沓而來，環如牆堵。許乃告曰：「數夜前，夢神言：淄川許友當即來，可助為資斧。祗候已久。」許亦異之，乃往祭于祠而祝曰：「別君後，寤寐不去心，遠踐曩約。又蒙夢示居人，感篆中懷。愧無腆物，僅有卮酒；如不棄，當如河上之飲。」祝畢，焚錢紙。俄見風起座後，旋轉移時，始散。夜夢少年來，衣冠楚楚，大異平時。謝曰：「遠勞顧問，喜淚交並。但任微職，不便會面，咫尺河山，甚愴于懷。居人薄有所贈，聊酬夙好。歸如有期，尚當走送。」居數日，許欲歸。眾留慇懃，朝請暮邀，日更數主。許堅辭欲行。眾乃折柬抱襆，爭來致贐，不終朝，饋遺盈橐。蒼頭稚子畢集，祖送出村。欻有羊角風起，隨行十餘裡。許再拜曰：「六郎珍重！勿勞遠涉。君心仁愛，自能造福一方，無庸故人囑也。」風盤旋久之，乃去。村人亦嗟訝而返。許歸，家稍裕，遂不復漁。後見招遠人問之，其靈應如響雲。或言：即章丘石坑莊。未知孰是。

　　異史氏曰：「置身青雲，無忘貧賤，此其所以神也。今日車中貴介，寧復識戴笠 人哉？余鄉有林下者，家綦貧。有童稚交，任肥秩。計投之必相周顧。竭力辦裝，奔涉千里，殊失所望；瀉囊貨騎，始得歸。其族弟甚諧，作月令嘲之云：『是月也，哥哥至，貂帽解，傘蓋不張，馬化為驢，靴始收聲。』念此可為一笑。」

CVIII. THE PRIEST’S WARNING.

A MAN named Chang died suddenly, and was escorted at once by devil lictors into the presence of the King of Purgatory. His Majesty turned to Chang’s record of good and evil, and then, in great anger, told the lictors they had brought the wrong man, and bade them take him back again. As they left the judgment hall, Chang persuaded his escort to let him have a look at Purgatory; and, accordingly, the devils conducted him through the nine sections, pointing out to him the Knife Hill, the Sword Tree, and other objects of interest. By-and-by, they reached a place where there was a Buddhist priest, hanging suspended in the air head downwards, by a rope through a hole in his leg. He was shrieking with pain, and longing for death; and when Chang approached, lo! he saw that it was his own brother. In great distress, he asked his guides the reason of this punishment; and they informed him that the priest was suffering thus for collecting subscriptions on behalf of his order, and then privately squandering the proceeds in gambling and debauchery. “Nor,” added they, “will he escape this torment unless he repents him of his misdeeds.” When Chang came round, he thought his brother was already dead, and hurried off to the Hsingfu monastery, to which the latter belonged. As he went in at the door, he heard a loud shrieking; and, on proceeding to his brother’s room, he found him laid up with a very bad abscess in his leg, the leg itself being tied up above him to the wall, this being, as his brother informed him, the only bearable position in which he could lie. Chang now told him what he had seen in Purgatory, at which the priest was so terrified, that he at once gave up taking wine and meat, and devoted himself entirely to religious exercises. In a fortnight he was well, and was known ever afterwards as a most exemplary priest.

僧孽

　　張姓暴卒，隨鬼使去，見冥王。王稽簿，怒鬼使誤捉，責令送歸。張下，私浼鬼使，求觀冥獄。鬼導歷九幽，刀山、劍樹，一一指點。末至一處，有一僧孔股穿繩而倒懸之，號痛欲絕。近視，則其兄也。張見之驚哀，問：「何罪至此？」鬼曰：「是為僧，廣募金錢，悉供淫賭，故罰之。欲脫此厄，須其自懺。」張既蘇，疑兄已死。時其見居興福寺，因往探之。入門，便聞其號痛聲。入室，見瘡生股間，膿血崩潰，掛足壁上，宛冥司倒懸狀。駭問其故。曰：「掛之稍可，不則痛徹心腑。」張因告以所見。僧大駭，乃戒葷酒，虔誦經咒。半月尋愈。遂為戒僧。

　　異史氏曰：「鬼獄渺茫，惡人每以自解；而不知昭昭之禍，即冥冥之罰也。可勿懼哉！」

CIX. METEMPSYCHOSIS.

MR. LIN, who took his master’s degree in the same year as the late Mr. Wên Pi, could remember what had happened to him in his previous state of existence, and once told the whole story, as follows:—I was originally of a good family, but, after leading a very dissolute life, I died at the age of sixty-two. On being conducted into the presence of the King of Purgatory, he received me civilly, bade me be seated, and offered me a cup of tea. I noticed, however, that the tea in His Majesty’s cup was clear and limpid, while that in my own was muddy, like the lees of wine. It then flashed across me that this was the potion which was given to all disembodied spirits to render them oblivious of the past: and, accordingly, when the King was looking the other way, I seized the opportunity of pouring it under the table, pretending afterwards that I had drunk it all up. My record of good and evil was now presented for inspection, and when the King saw what it was, he flew into a great passion, and ordered the attendant devils to drag me away, and send me back to earth as a horse. I was immediately seized and bound, and the devils carried me off to a house, the doorsill of which was so high I could not step over it. While I was trying to do so, the devils behind lashed me with all their might, causing me such pain that I made a great spring, and—lo and behold! I was a horse in a stable. “The mare has got a nice colt,” I then heard a man call out; but, although I was perfectly aware of all that was passing, I could say nothing myself. Hunger now came upon me, and I was glad to be suckled by the mare; and by the end of four or five years I had grown into a fine strong horse, dreadfully afraid of the whip, and running away at the very sight of it. When my master rode me, it was always with a saddlecloth, and at a leisurely pace, which was bearable enough; but when the servants mounted me bare backed, and dug their heels into me, the pain struck into my vitals; and at length I refused all food, and in three days I died. Reappearing before the King of Purgatory, His Majesty was enraged to find that I had thus tried to shirk working out my time; and, flaying me forthwith, condemned me to go back again as a dog. And when I did not move, the devils came behind me and lashed me until I ran away from them into the open country, where, thinking I had better die right off, I jumped over a cliff, and lay at the bottom unable to move. I then saw that I was among a litter of puppies, and that an old bitch was licking and suckling me by turns; whereby I knew that I was once more among mortals. In this hateful form I continued for some time, longing to kill myself, and yet fearing to incur the penalty of shirking. At length, I purposely bit my master in the leg, and tore him badly; whereupon he had me destroyed, and I was taken again into the presence of the King, who was so displeased with my vicious behaviour that he condemned me to become a snake, and shut me up in a dark room, where I could see nothing. After a while I managed to climb up the wall, bore a hole in the roof, and escape; and immediately I found myself lying in the grass, a veritable snake. Then I registered a vow that I would harm no living thing, and I lived for some years, feeding upon berries and such like, ever remembering neither to take my own life, nor by injuring any one to incite them to take it, but longing all the while for the happy release, which did not come to me. One day, as I was sleeping in the grass, I heard the noise of a passing cart, and, on trying to get across the road out of its way, I was caught by the wheel, and cut in two. The King was astonished to see me back so soon, but I humbly told my story, and, in pity for the innocent creature that loses its life, he pardoned me, and permitted me to be born again at my appointed time as a human being.

Such was Mr. Lin’s story. He could speak as soon as he came into the world; and could repeat anything he had once read. In the year 1621 he took his master’s degree, and was never tired of telling people to put saddlecloths on their horses, and recollect that the pain of being gripped by the knees is even worse than the lash itself.

三生

　　劉孝廉，能記前身事。與先文賁兄為同年，嘗歷歷言之：一世為晉紳，行多玷。六十二歲而歿。初見冥王，待如鄉先生禮，賜坐，飲以茶。覷冥王盞中，茶色清澈；己盞中，濁如醪。暗疑迷魂湯得勿此耶？乘冥王他顧，以盞就案角瀉之，偽為盡者。俄頃，稽前生惡錄；怒，命群鬼卒下，罰作馬。即有厲鬼縶去。行至一家，門限甚高，不可逾。方趑趄間，鬼力楚之，痛甚而蹶。自顧，則身已在櫪下矣。但聞人曰：「驪馬生駒矣，牡也。」心甚明瞭，但不能言。覺大餒，不得已，就牝馬求乳。逾四五年，體修偉。甚畏撻楚，見鞭則懼而逸。主人騎，必覆障泥，緩轡徐徐，猶不甚苦；惟奴仆圉人，不加韉裝以行，兩踝夾擊，痛徹心腑。於是憤甚，三日不食，遂死。

　　至冥司，冥王查其罰限未滿，責其規避，剝其皮革，罰為犬。意懊喪，不欲行。群鬼亂撻之，痛極而竄于野。自念不如死，憤投絕壁，顛，莫能起。自顧，則身伏竇中，牝犬舐而腓字之，乃知身已復生于人世矣。稍長，見便液亦知穢；然嗅之而香，但立念不食耳。為犬經年，常忿欲死，又恐罪其規避。而主人又豢養，不肯戮。乃故嚙主人，脫股肉。主人怒，杖殺之。

　　冥王鞫狀，怒其狂猘，笞數百，俾作蛇。囚于幽室，暗不見天。悶甚，緣壁而上，穴屋而出。自視，則伏身茂草，居然蛇矣。遂矢志不殘生類，飢吞木實。積年余，每思自盡不可，害人而死又不可；欲求一善死之策而未得也。一日，臥草中，聞車過，遽出當路；車馳壓之，斷為兩。

　　冥王訝其速至，因蒲伏自剖。冥王以無罪見殺，原之，准其滿限復為人，是為劉公。公生而能言，文章書史，過輒成誦。辛酉舉孝廉。每勸人：乘馬必厚其障泥；股夾之刑，勝于鞭楚也。

　　異史氏曰：「毛角之儔，乃有王公大人在其中；所以然者，王公大人之內，原未必無毛角者在其中也。故賤者為善，如求花而種其樹；貴者為善，如已花而培其本：種者可大，培者可久。不然，且將負鹽車，受羈馽，與之為馬；不然，且將啖便液，受烹割，與之為犬；又不然，且將披鱗介，葬鶴鸛，與之為蛇。」

CX. THE FORTY STRINGS OF CASH.

MR. JUSTICE WANG had a steward, who was possessed of considerable means. One night the latter dreamt that a man rushed in and said to him, “Today you must repay me those forty strings of cash.” The steward asked who he was; to which the man made no answer, but hurried past him into the women’s apartments. When the steward awoke, he found that his wife had been delivered of a son; and, knowing at once that retribution was at hand, he set aside forty strings of cash to be spent solely in food, clothes, medicines, and so on, for the baby. By the time the child was between three and four years old, the steward found that of the forty strings only about seven hundred cash remained; and when the wet-nurse, who happened to be standing by, brought the child and dandled it in her arms before him, he looked at it and said, “The forty strings are all but repaid; it is time you were off again.” Thereupon the child changed colour; its head fell back, and its eyes stared fixedly, and, when they tried to revive it, lo! respiration had already ceased. The father then took the balance of the forty strings, and with it defrayed the child’s funeral expenses—truly a warning to people to be sure and pay their debts.

Formerly, an old childless man consulted a great many Buddhist priests on the subject. One of them said to him, “If you owe no one anything, and no one owes you anything, how can you expect to have children? A good son is the repayment of a former debt; a bad son is a dunning creditor, at whose birth there is no rejoicing, at whose death no lamentations.”

四十千

　　新城王大司馬，有主計仆，家稱素封。忽夢一人奔入，曰：「汝欠四十千，今宜還矣。」問之，不答，徑入內去。既醒，妻產男。知為夙孽，遂以四十千捆置一室，凡兒衣食病藥，皆取給焉。過三四歲，視室中錢，僅存七百。適乳姥抱兒至，調笑于側。因呼之曰：「四十千將盡，如宜行矣。」言已，兒忽顏色蹙變，項折目張。再撫之，氣已絕矣。乃以余資置葬具而瘞之。此可為負欠者戒也。

　　昔有老而無子者，問諸高僧。僧曰：「汝不欠人者，人又不欠汝者，烏得子？」蓋生佳兒，所以報我之緣；生頑兒，所以取我之債。生者勿喜，死者勿悲也。

CXI. SAVING LIFE.

A CERTAIN gentleman of Shênyu, who had taken the highest degree, could remember himself in a previous state of existence. He said he had formerly been a scholar, and had died in middle life; and that when he appeared before the Judge of Purgatory, there stood the cauldrons, the boiling oil, and other apparatus of torture, exactly as we read about them on earth. In the eastern corner of the hall were a number of frames from which hung the skins of sheep, dogs, oxen, horses, etc.; and when anybody was condemned to reappear in life under any one of these forms, his skin was stripped off and a skin was taken from the proper frame and fixed on to his body. The gentleman of whom I am writing heard himself sentenced to become a sheep; and the attendant devils had already clothed him in a sheep’s skin in the manner above described, when the clerk of the record informed the Judge that the criminal before him had once saved another man’s life. The Judge consulted his books, and forthwith cried out, “I pardon him; for although his sins have been many, this one act has redeemed them all.” The devils then tried to take off the sheep’s skin, but it was so tightly stuck on him that they couldn’t move it. However, after great efforts, and causing the gentleman most excruciating agony, they managed to tear it off bit by bit, though not quite so cleanly as one might have wished. In fact, a piece as big as the palm of a man’s hand was left near his shoulder; and when he was born again into the world, there was a great patch of hair on his back, which grew again as fast as it was cut off.

某公

陝右某公，辛丑進士，能記前身。嘗言前生為士人，中年而死。死後見冥王判事，鼎鐺油鑊，一如世傳。殿東隅，設數架，上搭豬羊犬馬諸皮。簿吏呼名，或罰作馬，或罰作豬；皆裸之，于架上取皮披之。俄至公，聞冥王曰：「是宜作羊。」鬼取一白羊皮來，捺覆公體。吏白：「是曾拯一人死。」王檢籍覆視，示曰：「免之。惡雖多，此善可贖。」鬼又褫其毛革。革已粘體，不可復動。兩鬼捉臂按胸，力脫之，痛苦不可名狀；皮片片斷裂，不得盡淨。既脫，近肩處猶粘羊皮大如掌。公既生，背上有羊毛叢生，剪去復出。

CXII. THE SALT SMUGGLER.

WANG SHIH, of Kaowan, a petty salt huckster, was inordinately fond of gambling. One night he was arrested by two men, whom he took for lictors of the Salt Gabelle; and, flinging down what salt he had with him, he tried to make his escape. He found, however, that his legs would not move with him, and he was forthwith seized and bound. “We are not sent by the Salt Commissioner,” cried his captors, in reply to an entreaty to set him free; “we are the devil constables of Purgatory.” Wang was horribly frightened at this, and begged the devils to let him bid farewell to his wife and children; but this they refused to do, saying, “You aren’t going to die; you are only wanted for a little job there is down below.” Wang asked what the job was; to which the devils replied, “A new Judge has come into office, and, finding the river and the eighteen hells choked up with the bodies of sinners, he has determined to employ three classes of mortals to clean them out. These are thieves, unlicensed founders, and unlicensed dealers in salt, and, for the dirtiest work of all, he is going to take musicians.”

Wang accompanied the devils until at length they reached a city, where he was brought before the Judge, who was sitting in his Judgment hall. On turning up his record in the books, one of the devils explained that the prisoner had been arrested for unlicensed trading; whereupon the Judge became very angry, and said, “Those who drive an illicit trade in salt, not only defraud the State of its proper revenue, but also prey upon the livelihood of the people. Those, however, whom the greedy officials and corrupt traders of today denounce as unlicensed traders, are among the most virtuous of mankind—needy unfortunates who struggle to save a few cash in the purchase of their pint of salt. Are they your unlicensed traders?” The Judge then bade the lictors buy four pecks of salt, and send it to Wang’s house for him, together with that which had been found upon him; and, at the same time, he gave Wang an iron scourge, and told him to superintend the works at the river. So Wang followed the devils, and found the river swarming with people like ants in an anthill. The water was turbid and red, the stench from it being almost unbearable, while those who were employed in cleaning it out were working there naked. Sometimes they would sink down in the horrid mass of decaying bodies: sometimes they would get lazy, and then the iron scourge was applied to their backs. The assistant superintendents had small scented balls, which they held in their mouths. Wang himself approached the bank, and saw the licensed salt merchant of Kaowan in the midst of it all, and thrashed him well with his scourge, until he was afraid he would never come up again. This went on for three days and three nights, by which time half the workmen were dead, and the work completed; whereupon the same two devils escorted him home again, and then he waked up.

As a matter of fact, Wang had gone out to sell some salt, and had not come back. Next morning, when his wife opened the house door, she found two bags of salt in the courtyard; and, as her husband did not return, she sent off some people to search for him, and they discovered him lying senseless by the wayside. He was immediately conveyed home, where, after a little time, he recovered consciousness, and related what had taken place. Strange to say, the licensed salt merchant had fallen down in a fit on the previous evening, and had only just recovered; and Wang, hearing that his body was covered with sores—the result of the beating with the iron scourge—went off to his house to see him; however, directly the wretched man set eyes on Wang, he hastily covered himself up with the bedclothes, forgetting that they were no longer at the infernal river. He did not recover from his injuries for a year, after which he retired from trade.

王十

　　高苑民王十，負鹽於博興。夜為二人所獲。意為土商之邏卒也，舍鹽欲遁；足苦不前，遂被縛。哀之。二人曰：「我非鹽肆中人，乃鬼卒也。」十懼，乞一至家，別妻子。不許，曰：「此去亦未便即死，不過暫役耳。」十問：「何事？」曰：「冥中新閻王到任，見奈河淤平，十八獄坑廁俱滿，故捉三種人淘河：小偷、私鑄、私鹽；又一等人使滌廁：樂戶也。」十從去，入城郭，至一官署，見閻羅在上，方稽名籍。鬼稟曰：「捉一私販王十至。」閻羅視之，怒曰：「私鹽者，上漏國稅，下蠹民生者也。若世之暴官奸商所指為私鹽者，皆天下之良民。貧人揭錙銖之本，求升斗之息，何為私哉！」罰二鬼市鹽四斗，並十所負，代運至家。留十，授以蒺藜骨朵，令隨諸鬼督河工。鬼引十去，至奈河邊，見河內人夫，繈續如蟻。又視河水渾赤，臭不可聞。淘河者皆赤體持畚鍤，出沒其中。朽骨腐尸，盈筐負舁而出；深處則滅頂求之。惰者輒以骨朵攻背股。同監者以香綿丸如巨菽，使含口中，乃近岸。見高苑肆商，亦在其中，十獨苛遇之：入河楚背，上岸敲股。商懼，常沒身水中，十乃已。經三晝夜，河夫半死，河工亦竣。前二鬼仍送至家，豁然而蘇。先是，十負鹽未歸，天明，妻啟戶，則鹽兩囊置庭中，而十久不至。使人遍覓之，則死途中。舁之而歸，奄有微息，不解其故。及醒，始言之。肆商亦於前日死，至是始蘇。骨朵擊處，皆成巨疽，渾身腐潰，臭不可近。十故詣之。望見十，猶縮首衾中，如在奈河狀。一年，始愈，不復為商矣。

　　異史氏曰：「鹽之一道，朝遷之所謂私，乃不從乎公者也；官與商之所謂私，乃不從乎其私者也。近日齊、魯新規，土商隨在設肆，各限疆域。不惟此邑之民，不得去之彼邑；即此肆之民，不得去之彼肆。而肆中則潛設餌以釣他邑之民：其售於他邑，則廉其直；而售諸土人，則倍其價以昂之。而又設邏於道，使境內之人，皆不得逃吾網。其有境內冒他邑以來者，法不宥。彼此互相釣，而越肆假冒之愚民益多。一被邏獲，則先以刀杖殘其脛股，而後送諸官；官則桎梏之，是名『私鹽』。嗚呼！冤哉！漏數萬之稅非私，而負升斗之鹽則私之；本境售諸他境非私，而本境買諸本境則私之，冤矣！律中『鹽法』最嚴，而獨於貧難軍民，背負易食者，不之禁；今則一切不禁，而專殺此貧難軍民！且夫貧難軍民，妻子嗷嗷，上守法而不盜，下知恥而不倡；不得已，而揭十母而求一子。使邑盡此民，即『夜不閉戶』可也，非天下之良民乎哉！彼肆商者，不但使之淘奈河，直當使滌獄廁耳！而官於春秋節，受其斯須之潤，遂以三尺法助使殺吾良民。然則為貧民計，莫若為盜及私鑄耳：盜者白晝劫人，而官若聾；鑄者爐火亙天，而官若瞽；即異日淘河，尚不至如負販者所得無幾，而官刑立至也。嗚呼！上無慈惠之師，而聽奸商之法，日變日詭，奈何不頑民日生，而良民日死哉！」

　　各邑肆商，舊例以若干石鹽貲，歲奉本縣，名曰：「食鹽」。又逢節序，具厚儀。商以事謁官，官則禮貌之，坐與語，或茶焉。送鹽販至，重懲不遑。張公石年令淄川，肆商來見，循舊規，但揖不拜。公怒曰：「前令受汝賄，故不得不隆汝禮；我市鹽而食，何物商人，敢公堂抗禮乎！」捋袴將笞。商叩頭謝過，乃釋之。後肆中獲二負販者，其一逃去，其一被執到官。公問：「販者二人，其一焉往？」販者曰：「逃去矣。」公曰：「汝腿病不能奔耶？」曰：「能奔。」公曰：「既被捉，必不能奔；果能，可起試奔，驗汝能否。」其人奔數步欲止。公曰：「奔勿止！」其人疾奔，竟出公門而去。見者皆笑。公愛民之事不一，此其閒情，邑人猶樂誦之。

CXIII. COLLECTING SUBSCRIPTIONS.

THE Frog God frequently employs a magician to deliver its oracles to those who have faith. Should the magician declare that the God is pleased, happiness is sure to follow; but if he says the God is angry, women and children sit sorrowfully about, and neglect even their meals. Such is the customary belief, and it is probably not altogether devoid of foundation.

There was a certain wealthy merchant, named Chou, who was a very stingy man. Once, when some repairs were necessary to the temple of the God of War, and rich and poor were subscribing as much as each could afford, he alone gave nothing. By-and-by the works were stopped for want of funds, and the committee of management were at a loss what to do next. It happened that just then there was a festival in honour of the Frog God, at which the magician suddenly cried out, “General Chou has given orders for a further subscription. Bring forth the books.” The people all shouting assent to this, the magician went on to say, “Those who have already subscribed will not be compelled to do so again; those who have not subscribed must give according to their means.” Thereupon various persons began to put down their names, and when this was finished, the magician examined the books. He then asked if Mr. Chou was present; and the latter, who was skulking behind, in dread lest he should be detected by the God, had no alternative but to come to the front. “Put yourself down for one hundred taels,” said the magician to him; and when Chou hesitated, he cried out to him in anger, “You could give two hundred for your own bad purposes: how much more should you do so in a good cause?” alluding to a scandalous intrigue of Chou’s, the consequences of which he had averted by payment of the sum mentioned. This put our friend to the blush, and he was obliged to enter his name for one hundred taels, at which his wife was very angry, and said the magician was a rogue, and whenever he came to collect the money he was put off with some excuse.

Shortly afterwards, Chou was one day going to sleep, when he heard a noise outside his house, like the blowing of an ox, and beheld a huge frog walking leisurely through the front door, which was just big enough to let it pass. Once inside, the creature laid itself down to sleep, with its head on the threshold, to the great horror of all the inmates; upon which Chou observed that it had probably come to collect his subscription, and burning some incense, he vowed that he would pay down thirty taels on the spot, and send the balance later on. The frog, however, did not move, so Chou promised fifty, and then there was a slight decrease in the frog’s size. Another twenty brought it down to the size of a peck measure; and when Chou said the full amount should be paid on the spot, the frog became suddenly no larger than one’s fist, and disappeared through a hole in the wall. Chou immediately sent off fifty taels, at which all the other subscribers were much astonished, not knowing what had taken place. A few days afterwards the magician said Chou still owed fifty taels, and that he had better send it in soon; so Chou forwarded ten more, hoping now to have done with the matter. However, as he and his wife were one day sitting down to dinner, the frog reappeared, and glaring with anger, took up a position on the bed, which creaked under it, as though unable to bear the weight. Putting its head on the pillow, the frog went off to sleep, its body gradually swelling up until it was as big as a buffalo, and nearly filled the room, causing Chou to send off the balance of his subscription without a moment’s delay. There was now no diminution in the size of the frog’s body; and by-and-by crowds of small frogs came hopping in, boring through the walls, jumping on the bed, catching flies on the cooking stove, and dying in the saucepans, until the place was quite unbearable. Three days passed thus, and then Chou sought out the magician, and asked him what was to be done. The latter said he could manage it, and began by vowing on behalf of Chou twenty more taels’ subscription. At this the frog raised its head, and a further increase caused it to move one foot; and by the time a hundred taels was reached, the frog was walking out of the door. At the door, however, it stopped, and lay down once more, which the magician explained by saying, that immediate payment was required; so Chou handed over the amount at once, and the frog, shrinking down to its usual size, mingled with its companions, and departed with them.

The repairs to the temple were accordingly completed, but for “lighting the eyes,” and the attendant festivities, some further subscriptions were wanted. Suddenly, the magician, pointing at the managers, cried out, “There is money short; of fifteen men, two of you are defaulters.” At this, all declared they had given what they could afford; but the magician went on to say, “It is not a question of what you can afford; you have misappropriated the funds that should not have been touched, and misfortune would come upon you, but that, in return for your exertions, I shall endeavour to avert it from you. The magician himself is not without taint. Let him set you a good example.” Thereupon, the magician rushed into his house, and brought out all the money he had, saying, “I stole eight taels myself, which I will now refund.” He then weighed what silver he had, and finding that it only amounted to a little over six taels, he made one of the bystanders take a note of the difference. Then the others came forward and paid up, each what he had misappropriated from the public fund. All this time the magician had been in a divine ecstasy, not knowing what he was saying; and when he came round, and was told what had happened, his shame knew no bounds, so he pawned some of his clothes, and paid in the balance of his own debt. As to the two defaulters who did not pay, one of them was ill for a month and more; while the other had a bad attack of boils.

青蛙神

　　江漢之間，俗事蛙神最虔。祠中蛙不知幾百千萬，有大如籠者。或犯神怒，家中輒有異兆：蛙游几榻，甚或攀緣滑壁不得墮，其狀不一，此家當凶。人則大恐，斬牲禳禱之，神喜則已。楚有薛昆生者，幼惠，美姿容。六七歲時，有青衣媼至其家，自稱神使，坐致神意，願以女下嫁崑生。薛翁性朴拙，雅不欲，辭以兒幼。雖故卻之，而亦未敢議婚他姓。遲數年，崑生漸長，委禽於姜氏。神告姜曰：「薛崑生，吾婿也，何得近禁臠 ！」姜懼，反其儀。薛翁憂之，潔牲往禱，自言：「不敢與神相匹偶。」祝已，見肴酒中皆有巨蛆浮出，蠢然擾動；傾棄，謝罪而歸。心益懼，亦姑聽之。一日，崑生在途，有使者迎宣神命，苦邀移趾。不得已，從與俱往。入一朱門，樓閣華好。有叟坐堂上，類七八十歲人。崑生伏謁，叟命曳起之，賜坐案旁。少間，婢媼集視，紛紜滿側。叟顧曰：「人言薛郎至矣。」數婢奔去。移時，一媼率女郎出，年十六七，麗絕無儔。叟指曰：「此小女十娘，自謂與君可稱佳偶；君家尊乃以異類見拒。此自百年事，父母止主其半，是在君耳。」崑生目注十娘，心愛好之，默然不言。媼曰：「我固知郎意良佳。請先歸，當即送十娘往也。」崑生曰：「諾。」趨歸告翁。翁倉遽無所為計，乃授之詞，使返謝之，崑生不肯行。方消讓間，輿已在門，青衣成群，而十娘入矣。上堂朝拜，翁姑見之皆喜。即夕合巹，琴瑟甚諧。由此神翁神媼，時降其家。視其衣，赤為喜，白為財，必見，以故家日興。自婚於神，門堂藩溷皆蛙，人無敢詬蹴之。惟崑生少年任性，喜則忌，怒則踐斃，不甚愛惜。十娘雖謙馴，但善怒，頗不善崑生所為；而崑生不以十娘故斂抑之。十娘語侵崑生。崑生怒曰：「豈以汝家翁媼能禍人耶？丈夫何畏蛙也！」十娘甚諱言「蛙」，聞之恚甚，曰：「自妾入門，為汝家田增粟、賈益價，亦復不少。今老幼皆已溫飽，遂如鴞鳥生翼，欲啄母睛耶！」崑生益憤曰：「吾正嫌所增污穢，不堪貽子孫。請不如早別。」遂逐十娘。翁媼既聞之，十娘已去。呵崑生，使急往追復之。崑生盛氣不屈。至夜，母子俱病，鬱冒不食。翁懼，負荊於祠，詞義殷切。過三日，病尋愈。十娘亦自至，夫妻懽好如初。十娘日輒凝妝坐，不操女紅，崑生衣履，一委諸母。母一日忿曰：「兒既娶，仍累媼！人家婦事姑，吾家姑事婦！」十娘適聞之，負氣登堂曰：「兒婦朝侍食，暮問寢，事姑者，其道如何？所短者，不能吝傭錢，自作苦耳。」母無言，慚沮自哭。崑生入，見母涕痕，詰得故，怒責十娘。十娘執辨不相屈。崑生曰：「娶妻不能承歡，不如勿有！便觸老蛙怒，不過橫災死耳！」復出十娘。十娘亦怒，出門逕去。次日，居舍災，延燒數屋，几案床榻，悉為煨燼。崑生怒，詣祠責數曰：「養女不能奉翁姑，略無庭訓，而曲護其短！神者至公，有教人畏婦者耶！且盎盂相敲，皆臣所為，無所涉於父母。刀鋸斧鉞，即加臣身；如其不然，我亦焚汝居室，聊以相報。」言已，負薪殿下，爇火欲舉。居人集而哀之，始憤而歸。父母聞之，大懼失色。至夜，神示夢於近村，使為婿家營宅。及明，齎材鳩工，共為崑生建造，辭之不此；日數百人相屬於道，不數日，第舍一新，床幕器具悉備焉。修除甫竟，十娘已至，登堂謝過，言詞溫婉。轉身向崑生展笑，舉家變怨為喜。自此十娘性益和，居二年，無間言。十娘最惡蛇，崑生戲函小蛇，紿使啟之。十娘變色，詬崑生。崑生亦轉笑生嗔，惡相抵。十娘曰：「今番不待相迫逐，請從此絕！」遂出門去。薛翁大恐，杖崑生，請罪於神。幸不禍之，亦寂無音。積有年餘，崑生懷念十娘，頗自悔，竊詣神所哀十娘，迄無聲應。未幾，聞神以十娘字袁氏，中心失望，因亦求婚他族；而歷相數家，並無如十娘者，於是益思十娘。往探袁氏，則已堊壁滌庭，候魚軒 矣。心愧憤不能自已，廢食成疾。父母憂皇，不知所處。忽昏憒中有人撫之曰：「大丈夫頻欲斷絕，又作此態！」開目，則十娘也。喜極，躍起曰：「卿何來？」十娘曰：「以輕薄人相待之禮，止宜從父命，另醮而去。固久受袁家采幣，妾千思萬思而不忍也。卜吉已在今夕，父又無顏反璧，妾親攜而置之矣。適出門，父走送曰：『癡婢！不聽吾言，後受薛家凌虐，縱死亦勿歸也！』」崑生感其義，為之流涕。家人皆喜，奔告翁媼。媼聞之，不待往朝，奔入子舍，執手嗚泣。由此崑生亦老成，不作惡謔，於是情好益篤。十娘曰：「妾向以君儇薄，未必遂能相白首，故不敢留孽根於人世；今已靡他，妾將生子。」居無何，神翁神媼著朱袍，降臨其家。次日，十娘臨蓐，一舉兩男。由此往來無間。居民或犯神怒，輒先求崑生；乃使婦女輩盛妝入閨，朝拜十娘，十娘笑則解。薛氏苗裔甚繁，人名之「薛蛙子家」。近人不敢呼，遠人呼之。

　　青蛙神，往往託諸巫以為言。巫能察神嗔喜：告諸信士曰「喜矣」，神則至；「怒矣」，婦子坐愁歎，有廢餐者。流俗然哉？抑神實靈，非盡妄也？有富賈周某，性吝嗇。會居人斂金修關聖祠，貧富皆與有力；獨周一毛所不肯拔。久之，工不就，首事者無所為謀。適眾賽蛙神，巫忽言：「周將軍倉命小神司募政，其取簿籍來。」眾從之。巫曰：「已捐者，不復強；未捐者，量力自註。」眾唯唯敬聽，各註已。巫視曰：「周某在此否？」周方混蹟其後，惟恐神知，聞之失色，次且而前。巫指籍曰：「註金百。」周益窘。巫怒曰：「淫債尚酬二百，況好事耶！」蓋周私一婦，為夫掩執，以金二百自贖，故訐之也。周益慚懼，不得已，如命註之。既歸，告妻。妻曰：「此巫之詐耳。」巫屢索，卒不與。一日，方晝寢，忽聞門外如牛喘。視之，則一巨蛙，室門僅容其身，步履蹇緩，塞兩扉而入。既入，轉身臥，以閾承頷，舉家盡驚。周曰：「必討募金也。」焚香而祝，願先納三十，其餘以次齎送，蛙不動；請納五十，身忽一縮，小尺許；又加二十，益縮如斗；請全納，縮如拳，從容出，入牆罅而去。周急以五十金送監造所，人皆異之，周亦不言其故。積數日，巫又言：「周某欠金五十，何不催併？」周聞之，懼，又送十金，意將以此完結。一日，夫婦方食，蛙又至，如前狀，目作怒。少間，登其床，床搖撼欲傾；加喙於枕而眠，腹隆起如臥牛，四隅皆滿。周懼，即完百數與之。驗之，仍不少動。半日間，小蛙漸集，次日益多，穴倉登榻，無處不至；大於椀者，升灶啜蠅，糜爛釜中，以致穢不可食；至三日，庭中蠢蠢，更無隙處。一家皇駭，不知計之所出。不得已，請教於巫。巫曰：「此必少之也。」遂祝之，益以廿金，首始舉；又益之，起一足；直至百金，四足盡起，下床出門，狼犺數步，復返身臥門內。周懼，問巫。巫揣其意，欲周即解囊。周無奈何，如數付巫，蛙乃行，數步外，身暴縮，雜眾蛙中，不可辨認，紛紛然亦漸散矣。祠既成，開光祭賽，更有所需。巫忽指首事者曰：「某宜出如干數。」共十五人，止遺二人。眾祝曰：「吾等與某某，已同捐過。」巫曰：「我不以貧富為有無，但以汝等所侵漁之數為多寡。此等金錢，不可自肥，恐有橫災飛禍。念汝等首事勤勞，故代汝消之也。除某某廉正無所苟且外，即我家巫，我亦不少私之，便令先出，以為眾倡。」即奔入家，搜括箱櫝。妻問之，亦不答，盡卷囊蓄而出。告眾曰：「某私剋銀八兩，今使傾橐。」與眾共衡之，秤得六兩餘，使人誌其欠數。眾愕然，不敢置辯，悉如數納入。巫過此茫不自知；或告之，大慙，質衣以盈之。惟二人虧其數，事既畢，一人病月餘，一人患疔瘇，醫藥之費，浮於所欠，人以為私剋之報云。

　　異史氏曰：「老蛙司募，無不可與為善之人，其勝刺釘拖索者，不既多乎？又發監守之盜，而消其災，則其現威猛，正其行慈悲也。」

CXIV. Taoist Miracles.

AT Chinan Fu there lived a certain priest: I cannot say whence he came, or what was his name. Winter and summer alike he wore but one unlined robe, and a yellow girdle about his waist, with neither shirt nor trousers. He combed his hair with a broken comb, holding the ends in his mouth, like the strings of a hat. 即以齒銜髻，如冠狀。 By day he wandered about the marketplace; at night he slept in the street, and to a distance of several feet round where he lay, the ice and snow would melt. When he first arrived at Chinan he used to perform miracles, and the people vied with each other in making him presents. One day a disreputable young fellow gave him a quantity of wine, and begged him in return to divulge the secret of his power; and when the priest refused, the young man watched him get into the river to bathe, and then ran off with his clothes. The priest called out to him to bring them back, promising that he would do as the young man required; but the latter, distrusting the priest’s good faith, refused to do so; whereupon the priest’s girdle was forthwith changed into a snake, several spans in circumference, which coiled itself round its master’s head, and glared and hissed terribly. The young man now fell on his knees, and humbly prayed the priest to save his life; at which the priest put his girdle on again, and a snake that had appeared to be his girdle, wriggled away and disappeared. The priest’s fame was thus firmly established, and the gentry and officials of the place were constantly inviting him to join them in their festive parties. By-and-by the priest said he was going to invite his entertainers to a return feast; and at the appointed time each one of them found on his table a formal invitation to a banquet at the Water Pavilion, but no one knew who had brought the letters. However, they all went, and were met at the door by the priest, in his usual garb; and when they got inside, the place was all desolate and bare, with no banquet ready. “I’m afraid I shall be obliged to ask you gentlemen to let me use your attendants,” said the priest to his guests; “I am a poor man, and keep no servants myself.” To this all readily consented; whereupon the priest drew a double door upon the wall, and rapped upon it with his knuckles. Somebody answered from within, and immediately the door was thrown open, and a splendid array of handsome chairs, and tables loaded with exquisite viands and costly wines, burst upon the gaze of the astonished guests. The priest bade the attendants receive all these things from the door, and bring them outside, cautioning them on no account to speak with the people inside; and thus a most luxurious entertainment was provided to the great amazement of all present.

Now this Pavilion stood upon the bank of a small lake, and every year, at the proper season, it was literally covered with lilies; but, at the time of this feast, the weather was cold, and the surface of the lake was of a smoky green colour. “It’s a pity,” said one of the guests, “that the lilies are not out”—a sentiment in which the others very cordially agreed, when suddenly a servant came running in to say that, at that moment, the lake was a perfect mass of lilies. Every one jumped up directly, and ran to look out of the window, and, lo! it was so; and in another minute the fragrant perfume of the flowers was borne towards them by the breeze. Hardly knowing what to make of this strange sight, they sent off some servants, in a boat, to gather a few of the lilies, but they soon returned emptyhanded, saying, that the flowers seemed to shift their position as fast as they rowed towards them; at which the priest laughed, and said, “These are but the lilies of your imagination, and have no real existence.” And later on, when the wine was finished, the flowers began to droop and fade; and by-and-by a breeze from the north carried off every sign of them, leaving the lake as it had been before.

A certain Taot‘ai, at Chinan, was much taken with this priest, and gave him rooms at his yamên. One day, he had some friends to dinner, and set before them some very choice old wine that he had, and of which he only brought out a small quantity at a time, not wishing to get through it too rapidly. The guests, however, liked it so much that they asked for more; upon which the Taot‘ai said, “he was very sorry, but it was all finished.” The priest smiled at this, and said, “I can give the gentlemen some, if they will oblige me by accepting it;” and immediately inserted the wine kettle in his sleeve, bringing it out again directly, and pouring out for the guests. This wine tasted exactly like the choice wine they had just been drinking, and the priest gave them all as much of it as they wanted, which made the Taot‘ai suspect that something was wrong; so, after the dinner, he went into his cellar to look at his own stock, when he found the jars closely tied down, with unbroken seals, but one and all empty. In a great rage, he caused the priest to be arrested for sorcery, and proceeded to have him bambooed; but no sooner had the bamboo touched the priest than the Taot‘ai himself felt a sting of pain, which increased at every blow; and, in a few moments, there was the priest writhing and shrieking under every cut, while the Taot‘ai was sitting in a pool of blood. Accordingly, the punishment was soon stopped, and the priest was commanded to leave Chinan, which he did, and I know not whither he went. He was subsequently seen at Nanking, dressed precisely as of old; but on being spoken to, he only smiled and made no reply.

寒月芙蕖

　　濟南道人者，不知何許人，亦不詳其姓氏。冬夏著一單帢衣，系黃絳，無褲襦。每用半梳梳發，即以齒銜髻，如冠狀。日赤腳行市上；夜臥街頭，離身數尺外，冰雪盡熔。初來，輒對人作幻劇，市人爭貽之。有井曲無賴子，遺以酒，求傳其術，不許。遇道人浴于河津，驟抱其衣以脅之，道人揖曰：「請以賜還，當不吝術。」無賴者恐其紿，固不肯釋。道人曰：「果不相授耶？」曰：「然。」道人默不與語，俄見黃綈化為蛇，圍可數握，繞其身六七匝，怒目昂首，吐舌相向，某大愕，長跪，色青氣促，惟言乞命。道人乃竟取絳。絳竟非蛇；另有一蛇，蜿蜒入城去。由是道人之名益著。

　　縉紳家聞其異，招與游，從此往來鄉先生門。司、道俱耳其名，每宴集，必以道人從。一日，道人請于水面亭報諸憲之飲。至期，各于案頭得道人速帖，亦不知所由至。諸官赴宴所，道人傴僂出迎。既入，則空亭寂然，幾榻未設，或疑其妄。道人啟官宰曰：「貧道無僮仆，煩借諸扈從，少代奔走。」官共諾之。道人于壁上繪雙扉，以手撾之。內有應門者，振管而啟。共趨覘望，則見憧憧者往來于中，屏幔床幾，亦復都有。即有人一一傳送門外，道人命吏胥輩接列亭中，且囑勿與內人交語。兩相授受，惟顧而笑。頃刻，陳設滿亭，窮極奢麗。既而旨酒散馥，熱炙騰熏，皆自壁中傳遞而出，座客無不駭異。亭故背湖水，每六月時，荷花數十頃，一望無際。宴時方凌冬，窗外茫茫，惟有煙綠。一官偶嘆曰：「此日佳集，可惜無蓮花點綴！」眾俱唯唯。少頃，一青衣吏奔白：「荷葉滿塘矣！」一座皆驚。推窗眺矚，果見彌望菁蔥，間以菡萏。轉瞬間，萬枝千朵，一齊都開，朔風吹面，荷香沁腦。群以為異。遣吏人蕩舟采蓮，遙見吏人入花深處，少間返棹，素手來見。官詰之，吏曰：「小人乘舟去，見花在遠際，漸至北岸，又轉遙遙在南蕩中。」道人笑曰：「此幻夢之空花耳。」無何，酒闌，荷亦凋謝，北風驟起，摧折荷蓋，無復存矣。濟東觀察公甚悅之，攜歸署，日與狎玩。一日公與客飲。公故有傳家美醞，每以一斗為率，不肯供浪飲。是日客飲而甘之，固索傾釀，公堅以既盡為辭。道人笑謂客曰：「君必欲滿老饕，索之貧道而可。」客請之。道人以壺入袖中，少刻出，遍斟座上，與公所藏無異。盡歡而罷。公疑，入視酒瓻，封固宛然，瓶已罄矣。心竊愧怒，執以為妖，杖之。杖才加，公覺股暴痛，再加，臀肉欲裂。道人雖聲嘶階下，觀察已血殷座上。乃止不笞，遂令去。道人遂離濟，不知所往。后有人遇于金陵，衣裝如故，問之，笑不語。

CXV. ARRIVAL OF BUDDHIST PRIESTS.

TWO Buddhist priests having arrived from the West, one went to the Wut‘ai hill, while the other hung up his staff at T‘aishan. Their clothes, complexions, language, and features, were very different from those of our country. They further said they had crossed the Fiery Mountains, from the peaks of which smoke was always issuing as from the chimney of a furnace; that they could only travel after rain, and that excessive caution was necessary to avoid displacing any stone and thus giving a vent to the flames. They also stated that they had passed through the River of Sand, in the middle of which was a crystal hill with perpendicular sides and perfectly transparent; and that there was a defile just broad enough to admit a single cart, its entrance guarded by two dragons with crossed horns. Those who wished to pass prostrated themselves before these dragons, and on receiving permission to enter, the horns opened and let them through. The dragons were of a white colour, and their scales and bristles seemed to be of crystal. Eighteen winters and summers these priests had been on the road; and of twelve who started from the west together, only two reached China. These two said that in their country four of our mountains are held in great esteem, namely, T‘ai, Hua, Wut‘ai, and Lochia. The people there also think that China is paved with yellow gold, that Kuanyin and Wênshu are still alive, and that they have only come here to be sure of their Buddhahood and of immortal life. Hearing these words it struck me that this was precisely what our own people say and think about the West; and that if travellers from each country could only meet half way and tell each other the true state of affairs, there would be some hearty laughter on both sides, and a saving of much unnecessary trouble.

西僧

兩僧自西域來，一赴五臺，一卓錫泰山。其服色言貌，俱與中國殊異。自言：「歷火焰山，山重重，氣熏騰若爐灶。凡行必于雨後，心凝目注，輕跡步履之；誤蹴山石，則飛焰騰灼焉。又經流沙河，河中有水晶山，峭壁插天際，四面瑩澈，似無所隔。又有隘，可容單車；二龍交角對口把守之。過者先拜龍；龍許過，則口角自開。龍色白，鱗鬣皆如晶然。」僧言：「途中歷十八寒暑矣。離西土者十有二人，至中國僅存其二。西土傳中國名山四：一泰山，一華山，一五臺，一落伽也。相傳山上遍地皆黃金，觀音﹑文殊猶生。能至其處，則身便是佛，長生不死。」聽其所言狀，亦猶世人之慕西土也。倘有西遊人，與東渡者中途相值，各述所有，當必相視失笑，兩免跋涉矣。

CXVI. THE STOLEN EYES.

WHEN His Excellency Mr. T‘ang, of our village, was quite a child, a relative of his took him to a temple to see the usual theatrical performances. He was a clever little fellow, afraid of nothing and nobody; and when he saw one of the clay images in the vestibule staring at him with its great glass eyes, the temptation was irresistible; and, secretly gouging them out with his finger, he carried them off with him. When they reached home, his relative was taken suddenly ill and remained for a long time speechless; at length, jumping up he cried out several times in a voice of thunder, “Why did you gouge out my eyes?” His family did not know what to make of this, until little T‘ang told them what he had done; they then immediately began to pray to the possessed man, saying, “A mere child, unconscious of the wickedness of his act, took away in his fun thy sacred eyes. They shall be reverently replaced.” Thereupon the voice exclaimed, “In that case, I shall go away;” and he had hardly spoken before T‘ang’s relative fell flat upon the ground and lay there in a state of insensibility for some time. When he recovered, they asked him concerning what he had said; but he remembered nothing of it. The eyes were then forthwith restored to their original sockets.

泥鬼

余鄉唐太史濟武，數歲時，有表親某，相攜戲寺中。太史童年磊落，膽即最豪。見廡中泥鬼，睜琉璃眼，甚光而巨；愛之，陰以指抉取，懷之而歸。既抵家，某暴病，不語移時。忽起，厲聲曰：「何故抉我睛！」噪叫不休。眾莫之知。太史始言所作。家人乃祝曰：「童子無知，戲傷尊目，行奉還也。」乃大言曰：「如此，我便當去。」言訖，仆地遂絕。良久而甦；問其所言，茫不自覺。乃送睛仍安鬼眶中。

異史氏曰：「登堂索睛，土偶何其靈也。顧太史抉睛，而何以遷怒于同游？蓋以玉堂之貴，而且至性觥觥，觀其上書北闕，拂袖南山，神且憚之，而況鬼乎？」

CXVII. THE INVISIBLE PRIEST.

MR. HAN was a gentleman of good family, on very intimate terms with a skilful Taoist priest and magician named Tan, who, when sitting amongst other guests, would suddenly become invisible. Mr. Han was extremely anxious to learn this art, but Tan refused all his entreaties, “Not,” as he said, “because I want to keep the secret for myself, but simply as a matter of principle. To teach the superior man would be well enough; others, however, would avail themselves of such knowledge to plunder their neighbours. There is no fear that you would do this, though even you might be tempted in certain ways.” Mr. Han, finding all his efforts unavailing, flew into a great passion, and secretly arranged with his servants that they should give the magician a sound beating; and, in order to prevent his escape through the power of making himself invisible, he had his threshing floor covered with a fine ash dust, so that at any rate his footsteps would be seen and the servants could strike just above them. He then inveigled Tan to the appointed spot, which he had no sooner reached than Han’s servants began to belabour him on all sides with leathern thongs. Tan immediately became invisible, but his footprints were clearly seen as he moved about hither and thither to avoid the blows, and the servants went on striking above them until finally he succeeded in getting away. Mr. Han then went home, and subsequently Tan reappeared and told the servants that he could stay there no longer, adding that before he went he intended to give them all a feast in return for many things they had done for him. And diving into his sleeve he brought forth a quantity of delicious meats and wines which he spread out upon the table, begging them to sit down and enjoy themselves. The servants did so, and one and all of them got drunk and insensible; upon which Tan picked each of them up and stowed them away in his sleeve. When Mr. Han heard of this, he begged Tan to perform some other trick; so Tan drew upon the wall a city, and knocking at the gate with his hand it was instantly thrown open. He then put inside it his wallet and clothes, and stepping through the gateway himself, waved his hand and bade Mr. Han farewell. The city gates were now closed, and Tan vanished from their sight. It was said that he appeared again in Ch‘ingchou, where he taught little boys to paint a circle on their hands, and, by dabbing this on to another person’s face or clothes, to imprint the circle on the place thus struck without a trace of it being left behind upon the hand.

單道士

韓公子，邑世家。有單道士，工作劇，公子愛其術，以為座上客。單與人行坐，輒忽不見。公子欲傳其法，單不肯。公子固懇之。單曰：「我非吝吾術，恐壞吾道也。所傳而君子則可；不然，有借此以行竊者矣。公子固無慮此，然或出見美麗而悅，隱身入人閨闥，是濟惡而宣淫也。不敢從命。」公子不能強，而心怒之，陰與仆輩謀撻辱之。恐其遁匿，因以細灰塵布麥場上：思左道能隱形，而履處必有印跡，可隨印處急擊之。於是誘單往，使人執牛鞭立撻之。單忽不見，灰上果有履跡，左右亂擊，頃刻已迷。公子歸，單亦至。謂諸仆曰：「吾不可復居矣！向勞服役，今且別，當有以報。」袖中出旨酒一盛，又探得餚一簋，並陳幾上。陳已，復探；凡十餘探，案上已滿。遂邀眾飲，俱醉；一一仍內袖中。韓聞其異，使復作劇。單于壁上畫一城，以手推撾，城門頓癖。因將囊衣篋物，悉擲門內，乃拱別曰：「我去矣。」躍身入城，城門遂合，道士頓杳。後聞在青州市上，教兒童畫墨圈于掌，逢人戲拋之，隨所拋處，或面或衣，圈輒脫去，落印其上。又聞其善房中術，能令下部吸燒酒，盡一器。公子嘗面試之。

CXVIII. THE CENSOR IN PURGATORY.

JUST beyond Fêngtu there is a fathomless cave which is reputed to be the entrance to Purgatory. All the implements of torture employed therein are of human manufacture; old, worn-out gyves and fetters being occasionally found at the mouth of the cave, and as regularly replaced by new ones, which disappear the same night, and for which the magistrate of the district makes a formal charge in his accounts.

Under the Ming dynasty, there was a certain Censor, named Hua, whose duties brought him to this place; and hearing the story of the cave, he said he did not believe it, but would penetrate into it and see for himself. People tried to dissuade him from such an enterprise; however, he paid no heed to their remonstrances, and entered the cave with a lighted candle in his hand, followed by two attendants. They had proceeded about half a mile, when suddenly the candle was violently extinguished, and Mr. Hua saw before him a broad flight of steps leading up to the Ten Courts, or Judgment halls, in each of which a judge was sitting with his robes and tablets all complete. On the eastern side there was one vacant place; and when the judges saw Mr. Hua, they hastened down the steps to meet him, and each one cried out, “So you have come at last, have you? I hope you have been quite well since last we met.” Mr. Hua asked what the place was; to which they replied that it was the Court of Purgatory, and then Mr. Hua in a great fright was about to take his leave, when the judges stopped him, saying, “No, no, Sir! that is your seat there; how can you imagine you are to go back again?” Thereupon Mr. Hua was overwhelmed with fear, and begged and implored the judges to forgive him; but the latter declared they could not interfere with the decrees of fate, and taking down the register of Life and Death they showed him that it had been ordained that on such a day of such a month his living body would pass into the realms of darkness. When Mr. Hua read these words he shivered and shook as if iced water was being poured down his back, and thinking of his old mother and his young children, his tears began to flow. At that juncture an angel in golden armour appeared, holding in his hand a document written on yellow silk, before which the judges all performed a respectful obeisance. They then unfolded and read the document, which was nothing more or less than a general pardon from the Almighty for the suffering sinners in Purgatory, by virtue of which Mr. Hua’s fate would be set aside, and he would be enabled to return once more to the light of day. Thereupon the judges congratulated him upon his release, and started him on his way home; but he had not got more than a few steps of the way before he found himself plunged in total darkness. He was just beginning to despair, when forth from the gloom came a God with a red face and a long beard, rays of light shooting out from his body and illuminating the darkness around. Mr. Hua made up to him at once, and begged to know how he could get out of the cave; to which the God curtly replied, “Repeat the sûtras of Buddha!” and vanished instantly from his sight. Now Mr. Hua had forgotten almost all the sûtras he had ever known; however, he remembered a little of the diamond sûtra, and, clasping his hands in an attitude of prayer, he began to repeat it aloud. No sooner had he done this than a faint streak of light glimmered through the darkness, and revealed to him the direction of the path; but the next moment he was at a loss how to go on and the light forthwith disappeared. He then set himself to think hard what the next verse was, and as fast as he recollected and could go on repeating, so fast did the light reappear to guide him on his way, until at length he emerged once more from the mouth of the cave. As to the fate of the two servants who accompanied him it is needless to inquire.

酆都御史

　　酆都縣外有洞，深不可測，相傳閻羅署。其中一切獄具，皆借人工。桎梏朽敗，輒擲洞口，邑宰即以新者易之，經宿失所在。供應度支，載之經制。

　　明有御史行臺華公，按臨酆都，聞之不以為信，欲入洞以決其惑，眾云不可。公弗聽，乃秉燭入，以二役從。入里許，燭暴滅。視之，階道闊朗，有廣殿十余間，列坐尊官，袍笏儼然。惟東首虛一座。尊官見公至，降階而迎，笑問曰：「至矣乎？別來無恙否？」公問：「此何處所？」尊官曰：「此冥府也。」公愕然告退。尊官指虛座曰：「此為君坐，那可復還。」公益懼，固請寬宥，尊官曰：「定數何可逃也！」遂檢一卷示公，上注云：「某月日，某以肉身歸陰。」公覽之，戰栗如濯冰水，念母老子幼，泫然流涕。

　　俄有金甲神人，捧黃帛書至，群拜舞啟讀已，乃賀公曰：「君有回陽之機矣。」公喜致問。曰：「適接帝詔，大赦幽冥，可為君委折原例耳。」乃示公途而出，數武之外，冥黑如漆，不辨行路，公甚窘苦。忽一神將，軒然而入，赤面長髯，光射數尺。公迎拜而哀之，神人曰：「誦佛經可出。」言已而去。公自計經咒多不記憶，惟《金剛經》頗曾習之，乃合掌而誦，頓覺一線光明，映照前路。偶有遺忘，則目前頓黑，定想移時，復誦復明；乃始得出。其二役，則不可問矣。

CXIX. MR. WILLOW AND THE LOCUSTS.

DURING the Ming dynasty a plague of locusts visited Ch‘ingyen, and was advancing rapidly towards the I district, when the magistrate of that place, in great tribulation at the pending disaster, retired one day to sleep behind the screen in his office. There he dreamt that a young graduate, named Willow, wearing a tall hat and a green robe, and of very commanding stature, came to see him, and declared that he could tell the magistrate how to get rid of the locusts. “Tomorrow,” said he, “on the southwest road, you will see a woman riding on a large jennet: she is the Spirit of the Locusts; ask her, and she will help you.” The magistrate thought this strange advice; however, he got everything ready, and waited, as he had been told, at the roadside. By-and-by, along came a woman with her hair tied up in a knot, and a serge cape over her shoulders, riding slowly northwards on an old mule; whereupon the magistrate burned some sticks of incense, and, seizing the mule’s bridle, humbly presented a goblet of wine. The woman asked him what he wanted; to which he replied, “Lady, I implore you to save my small magistracy from the dreadful ravages of your locusts.” “Oho!” said the woman, “that scoundrel, Willow, has been letting the cat out of the bag, has he? He shall suffer for it: I won’t touch your crops.” She then drank three cups of wine, and vanished out of sight. Subsequently, when the locusts did come, they flew high in the air, and did not settle on the crops; but they stripped the leaves off every willow tree far and wide; and then the magistrate awaked to the fact that the graduate of his dream was the Spirit of the Willows. Some said that this happy result was owing to the magistrate’s care for the welfare of his people.

柳秀才

明季，蝗生青兗間，漸集于沂，沂令憂之。退臥署幕，夢一秀才來謁，峨冠綠衣，狀貌修偉，自言御蝗有策。詢之，答云：「明日西南道上有婦跨碩腹牝驢子，蝗神也。哀之，可免。」令異之。治具出邑南。伺良久，果有婦高髻褐帔，獨控老蒼衛，緩蹇北度。即爇香，捧卮酒，迎拜道左，捉驢不令去。婦問：「大夫將何為？」令便哀求：「區區小治，幸憫脫蝗口。」婦曰：「可恨柳秀才饒舌，泄我密機！當即以其身受，不損禾稼可耳。」乃盡三卮，瞥不復見。

后蝗來飛蔽天日，竟不落禾田，盡集楊柳，過處柳葉都盡。方悟秀才柳神也。或云：「是宰官憂民所感。」誠然哉！

CXX. MR. TUNG; OR, VIRTUE REWARDED.

AT Ch‘ingchow there lived a Mr. Tung, President of one of the Six Boards, whose domestic regulations were so strict that the men and women servants were not allowed to speak to each other. One day he caught a slave girl laughing and talking with one of his attendants, and gave them both a sound rating. That night he retired to sleep, accompanied by his valet-de-chambre, in his library, the door of which, as it was very hot weather, was left wide open. When the night was far advanced, the valet was awaked by a noise at his master’s bed: and, opening his eyes, he saw, by the light of the moon, the attendant abovementioned pass out of the door with something in his hand. Recognizing the man as one of the family, he thought nothing of the occurrence, but turned round and went to sleep again. Soon after, however, he was again aroused by the noise of footsteps tramping heavily across the room, and, looking up, he beheld a huge being with a red face and a long beard, very like the God of War, carrying a man’s head. Horribly frightened, he crawled under the bed, and then he heard sounds above him as of clothes being shaken out, and as if some one was being shampooed. In a few moments, the boots tramped once more across the room and went away; and then he gradually put out his head, and, seeing the dawn beginning to peep through the window, he stretched out his hand to reach his clothes. These he found to be soaked through and through, and, on applying his hand to his nose, he smelt the smell of blood. He now called out loudly to his master, who jumped up at once; and, by the light of a candle, they saw that the bed clothes and pillows were alike steeped in blood. Just then some constables knocked at the door, and when Mr. Tung went out to see who it was, the constables were all astonishment; “for,” said they, “a few minutes ago a man rushed wildly up to our yamên, and said he had killed his master; and, as he himself was covered with blood, he was arrested, and turned out to be a servant of yours. He also declared that he had buried your head alongside the temple of the God of War; and when we went to look, there, indeed, was a freshly dug hole, but the head was gone.” Mr. Tung was amazed at all this story, and, on proceeding to the magistrate’s yamên, he discovered that the man in charge was the attendant whom he had scolded the day before. Thereupon, the criminal was severely bambooed and released; and then Mr. Tung, who was unwilling to make an enemy of a man of this stamp, gave him the girl to wife. However, a few nights afterwards the people who lived next door to the newly married couple heard a terrific crash in their house, and, rushing in to see what was the matter, found that husband and wife, and the bedstead as well, had been cut clean in two as if by a sword. The ways of the God are many, indeed, but few more extraordinary than this.

董公子

　　青州董尚書可畏，家庭嚴肅，內外男女，不敢通一語。一日，有婢僕調笑於中門之外，公子見而怒叱之，各奔去。及夜，公子偕僮臥齋中。時方盛暑，室門洞敞。更深時，僮聞床上有聲甚厲，驚醒。月影中，見前僕提一物出門去。以其家人故，弗深怪，遂復寐。忽聞靴聲訇然，一偉丈夫赤面修髯，似壽亭侯像，捉一人頭入。僮懼，蛇行入床下。聞床上支支格格，如振衣，如摩腹，移時始罷。靴聲又響，乃去。僮伸頸漸出，見窗櫺上有曉色。以手捫床上，著手沾溼，嗅之血腥。大呼公子，公子方醒。告而火之，血盈枕席。大駭，不知其故。忽有官役叩門。公子出見，役愕然，但言怪事。詰之，告曰：「適衙前一人神色迷罔，大聲曰：『我殺主人矣！』眾見其衣有血污，執而白之官。審知為公子家人。渠言已殺公子，埋首於關廟之側。往驗之，穴土猶新，而首則並無。」公子駭異，趨赴公庭，見其人即前狎婢者也。因述其異。官甚惶惑，重責而釋之。公子不欲結怨於小人，以前婢配之，令去。積數日，其鄰堵者，夜聞僕房中一聲震響若崩裂，急起呼之，不應。排闥入視，見夫婦及寢床，皆截然斷而為兩，木肉上俱有削痕，似一刀所斷者。關公之靈蹟最多，未有奇於此者也。

CXXI. The Dead Priest.

A CERTAIN Taoist priest, overtaken in his wanderings by the shades of evening, sought refuge in a small Buddhist monastery. The monk’s apartment was, however, locked; so he threw his mat down in the vestibule of the shrine, and seated himself upon it. In the middle of the night, when all was still, he heard a sound of some one opening the door behind him; and looking round, he saw a Buddhist priest, covered with blood from head to foot, who did not seem to notice that anybody else was present. Accordingly, he himself pretended not to be aware of what was going on; and then he saw the other priest enter the shrine, mount the altar, and remain there some time embracing Buddha’s head, and laughing by turns. When morning came, he found the monk’s room still locked; and, suspecting something was wrong, he walked to a neighbouring village, where he told the people what he had seen. Thereupon the villagers went back with him, and broke open the door, and there before them lay the priest weltering in his blood, having evidently been killed by robbers, who had stripped the place bare. Anxious now to find out what had made the disembodied spirit of the priest laugh in the way it had been seen to do, they proceeded to inspect the head of the Buddha on the altar; and, at the back of it, they noticed a small mark, scraping through which they discovered a sum of over thirty ounces of silver. This sum was forthwith used for defraying the funeral expenses of the murdered man.

死僧

　　某道士，雲游日暮，投止野寺。見僧房扃閉，遂藉蒲團，趺坐廊下。夜既靜，聞啟闔聲，旋見一僧來，渾身血污，目中若不見道士，道士亦若不見之。僧直入殿，登佛座，抱佛頭而笑，久之乃去。及明，視室，門扃如故。怪之，入村道所見。眾如寺，發扃驗之，則僧殺死在地，室中席篋掀騰，知為盜劫。疑鬼笑有因；共驗佛首，見腦後有微痕，刓之，內藏三十餘金。遂用以葬之。

　　異史氏曰：「諺有之：『財連於命』。不虛哉！夫人儉嗇封殖，以予所不知誰何之人，亦已癡矣；況僧並不知誰何之人而無之哉！生不肯享，死猶顧而笑之，財奴之可歎如此。佛云：『一文將不去，惟有業隨身。』其僧之謂夫！」

CXXII. THE FLYING COW.

A CERTAIN man, who had bought a fine cow, dreamt the same night that wings grew out of the animal’s back, and that it had flown away. Regarding this as an omen of some pending misfortune, he led the cow off to market again, and sold it at a ruinous loss. Wrapping up in a cloth the silver he received, he slung it over his back, and was half way home, when he saw a falcon eating part of a hare. Approaching the bird, he found it was quite tame, and accordingly tied it by the leg to one of the corners of the cloth, in which his money was. The falcon fluttered about a good deal, trying to escape; and, by-and-by, the man’s hold being for a moment relaxed, away went the bird, cloth, money, and all. “It was destiny,” said the man every time he told the story; ignorant as he was, first, that no faith should be put in dreams; and, secondly, that people shouldn’t take things they see by the wayside. Quadrupeds don’t usually fly.

牛飛

　　邑人某，購一牛，頗健。夜夢牛生兩翼飛去，以為不祥，疑有喪失。牽入市損價售之。以巾裹金，纏臂上。歸至半途，見有鷹食殘兔，近之甚馴。遂以巾頭縶股，臂之。鷹屢擺撲，把捉稍懈，帶巾騰去。此雖定數，然不疑夢，不貪拾遺，則走者何遽能飛哉？

CXXIII. THE “MIRROR AND LISTEN” TRICK.

AT I-tu there lived a family of the name of Chêng. The two sons were both distinguished scholars, but the elder was early known to fame, and, consequently, the favourite with his parents, who also extended their preference to his wife. The younger brother was a trifle wild, which displeased his father and mother very much, and made them regard his wife, too, with anything but a friendly eye. The latter reproached her husband for being the cause of this, and asked him why he, being a man like his brother, could not vindicate the slights that were put upon her. This piqued him; and, setting to work in good earnest, he soon gained a fair reputation, though still not equal to his brother’s. That year the two went up for the highest degree; and, on New Year’s Eve, the wife of the younger, very anxious for the success of her husband, secretly tried the “mirror and listen” trick. She saw two men pushing each other in jest, and heard them say, “You go and get cool,” which remark she was quite unable to interpret for good or for bad, so she thought no more about the matter. After the examination, the two brothers returned home; and one day, when the weather was extremely hot, and their two wives were hard at work in the cookhouse, preparing food for their field labourers, a messenger rode up in hot haste to announce that the elder brother had passed. Thereupon his mother went into the cookhouse, and, calling to her daughter-in-law, said, “Your husband has passed; you go and get cool.” Rage and grief now filled the breast of the second son’s wife, who, with tears in her eyes, continued her task of cooking, when suddenly another messenger rushed in to say, that the second son had passed, too. At this, his wife flung down her frying pan, and cried out, “Now I’ll go and get cool;” and as in the heat of her excitement she uttered these words, the recollection of her trial of the “mirror and listen” trick flashed upon her, and she knew that the words of that evening had been fulfilled.

鏡聽

　　益都鄭氏兄弟，皆文學士。大鄭早知名，父母嘗過愛之，又因子並及其婦；二鄭落拓，不甚為父母所懽，遂惡次婦，至不齒禮：冷暖相形，頗存芥蒂。次婦每謂二鄭：「等男子耳，何遂不能為妻子爭氣？」遂擯弗與同宿。於是二鄭感憤，勤心銳思，亦遂知名。父母稍稍優顧之，然終殺於兄。次婦望夫綦切，是歲大比，竊於除夜以鏡聽卜。有二人初起，相推為戲，云：「汝也涼涼去！」婦歸，凶吉不可解，亦置之。闈後，兄弟皆歸。時暑氣猶盛，兩婦在廚下炊飯餉耕，其熱正苦。忽有報騎登門，報大鄭捷。母入廚喚大婦曰：「大男中式矣！汝可涼涼去。」次婦忿惻，泣且炊。俄又有報二鄭捷者。次婦力擲餅杖而起，曰：「儂也涼涼去！」此時中情所激，不覺出之於口；既而思之，始知鏡聽之驗也。

　　異史氏曰：「貧窮則父母不子，有以也哉！庭幃之中，固非憤激之地；然二鄭婦激發男兒，亦與怨望無賴者殊不同科。投杖而起，真千古之快事也！」

CXXIV. THE CATTLE PLAGUE.

CH‘ÊN HUAFÊNG, of Mêngshan, overpowered by the great heat, went and lay down under a tree, when suddenly up came a man with a thick comforter round his neck, who also sat down on a stone in the shade, and began fanning himself as hard as he could, the perspiration all the time running off him like a waterfall. Ch‘ên rose and said to him with a smile, “If Sir, you were to remove that comforter, you would be cool enough without the help of a fan.” “It would be easy enough,” replied the stranger, “to take off my comforter; but the difficulty would be in getting it on again.” He then went on to converse generally upon other matters, in a manner which betokened considerable refinement; and by-and-by he exclaimed, “What I should like now is just a draught of iced wine to cool the twelve joints of my œsophagus.” “Come along, then,” cried Ch‘ên, “my house is close by, and I shall be happy to give you what you want.” So off they went together; and Ch‘ên set before them some capital wine, which he produced from a cave, cold enough to numb their teeth. The stranger was delighted, and remained there drinking until late in the evening, when, all at once, it began to rain. Ch‘ên lighted a lamp; and he and his guest, who now took off the comforter, sat talking together in dishabille. Every now and again the former thought he saw a light coming from the back of the stranger’s head; and when at length he had gone off into a tipsy sleep, Ch‘ên took the light to examine more closely. He found behind the ears a large cavity, partitioned by a number of membranes, and looking like a lattice, with a thin skin hanging down in front of each, the spaces being apparently empty. In great astonishment Ch‘ên took a hairpin, and inserted it into one of these places, when pff! out flew something like a tiny cow, which broke through the window, and was gone. This frightened Ch‘ên, and he determined to play no more tricks; just then, however, the stranger waked up. “Alas!” cried he, “you have been at my head, and have let out the Cattle Plague. What is to be done, now?” Ch‘ên asked what he meant: upon which the stranger said, “There is no object in further concealment. I will tell you all. I am the Angel of Pestilence for the six kinds of domestic animals. That form which you have let out attacks oxen, and I fear that, for miles round, few will escape alive.” Now Ch‘ên himself was a cattle farmer, and when he heard this was dreadfully alarmed, and implored the stranger to tell him what to do. “What to do!” replied he; “why, I shall not escape punishment myself; how can I tell you what to do. However, you will find powdered K‘uts‘an an efficacious remedy, that is if you don’t keep it a secret for your private use.” The stranger then departed, first of all piling up a quantity of earth in a niche in the wall, a handful of which, he told Ch‘ên, given to each animal, might prove of some avail. Before long the plague did break out; and Ch‘ên, who was desirous of making a little money by it, told the remedy to no one, with the exception of his younger brother. The latter tried it on his own beasts with great success; while, on the other hand, those belonging to Ch‘ên himself died off, to the number of fifty head, leaving him only four or five old cows, which shewed every sign of soon sharing the same fate. In his distress, Ch‘ên suddenly bethought himself of the earth in the niche; and, as a last resource, gave some to the sick animals. By the next morning they were quite well, and then he knew that his secrecy about the remedy had caused it to have no effect. From that moment his stock went on increasing, and in a few years he had as many as ever.

牛癀

　　陳華封，蒙山人。以盛暑煩熱，枕藉野樹下。忽一人奔波而來，首著圍領，疾趨樹陰，掬石而座，揮扇不停，汗下如流瀋。陳起座，笑曰：「若除圍領，不扇可涼。」客曰：「脫之易，再著難也。」就與傾談，頗極蘊藉。既而曰：「此時無他想，但得冰浸良醞，一道冷芳，度下十二重樓，暑氣可消一半。」陳笑曰：「此願易遂，僕當為君償之。」因握手曰：「寒舍伊邇，請即迂步。」客笑而從之。至家，出藏酒於石洞，其涼震齒。客大悅，一舉十觥。日已就暮，天忽雨；於是張燈於室，客乃解除領巾，相與磅礡。語次，見客腦後，時漏燈光，疑之。無何，客酩酊，眠榻上。陳移燈竊窺之，見耳後有巨穴，琖大；數道厚膜，間鬲如櫺；櫺外耎革垂蔽，中似空空。駭極，潛抽髻簪，撥膜覘之，有一物，狀類小牛，隨手飛出，破窗而去。益駭，不敢復撥。方欲轉步，而客已醒。驚曰：「子窺見吾隱矣！放牛㾮出，將為奈何？」陳拜詰其故。客曰：「今已若此，尚復何諱。實相告：我六畜瘟神耳。適所縱者牛㾮，恐百里內牛無種矣。」陳故以養牛為業，聞之大恐，拜求術解。客曰：「余且不免於罪，其何術之能解？惟苦參散最效，其廣傳此方，勿存私念可也。」言已，謝別出門。又掬土堆壁龕中，曰：「每用一合亦效。」拱不復見。居無何，牛果病，瘟疫大作。陳欲專利，祕其方，不肯傳；惟傳其弟。弟試之神驗。而陳自剉啖牛，殊罔所效，有牛兩百蹄躈，倒斃殆盡；遺老牡牛四五頭，亦逡巡就死。中心懊惱，無所用力。忽憶龕中掬土，念未必效，姑妄投之，經夜，牛乃盡起。始悟藥之不靈，乃神罰其私也。後數年，牝牛繁育，漸復其故。

CXXV. THE MARRIAGE OF THE VIRGIN GODDESS.

AT Kueichi there is a shrine to the Plum Virgin, who was formerly a young lady named Ma, and lived at Tungwan. Her betrothed husband dying before the wedding, she swore she would never marry, and at thirty years of age she died. Her kinsfolk built a shrine to her memory, and gave her the title of the Plum Virgin. Some years afterwards, a Mr. Chin, on his way to the examination, happened to pass by the shrine; and entering in, he walked up and down thinking very much of the young lady in whose honour it had been erected. That night he dreamt that a servant came to summon him into the presence of the Goddess; and that, in obedience to her command, he went and found her waiting for him just outside the shrine. “I am deeply grateful to you, Sir,” said the Goddess, on his approach, “for giving me so large a share of your thoughts; and I intend to repay you by becoming your humble handmaid.” Mr. Chin bowed an assent; and then the Goddess escorted him back, saying, “When your place is ready, I will come and fetch you.” On waking in the morning, Mr. Chin was not over pleased with his dream; however that very night every one of the villagers dreamt that the Goddess appeared and said she was going to marry Mr. Chin, bidding them at once prepare an image of him. This the village elders, out of respect for their Goddess, positively refused to do; until at length they all began to fall ill, and then they made a clay image of Mr. Chin, and placed it on the left of the Goddess. Mr. Chin now told his wife that the Plum Virgin had come for him; and, putting on his official cap and robes, he straightway died. Thereupon his wife was very angry; and, going to the shrine, she first abused the Goddess, and then, getting on the altar, slapped her face well. The Goddess is now called Chin’s virgin wife.

金姑夫

　　會稽有梅姑祠。神故馬姓，族居東莞，未嫁而夫早死，遂矢志不醮，三旬而卒。族人祠之，謂之梅姑。丙申，上虞金生，赴試經此，入廟徘徊，頗涉冥想。至夜，夢青衣來，傳梅姑命招之。從去。入祠，梅姑立候簷下，笑曰：「蒙君寵顧，實切依戀。不嫌陋拙，願以身為姬侍。」金唯唯。梅姑送之曰：「君且去。設座成，當相迓耳。」醒而惡之。是夜，居人夢梅姑曰：「上虞金生，今為吾婿，宜塑其像。」詰旦，村人語夢悉同。族長恐玷其貞，以故不從。未幾，一家俱病。大懼，為肖像於左。既成，金生告妻子曰：「梅姑迎我矣。」衣冠而死。妻痛恨，詣祠指女像穢罵；又升座批頰數四，乃去。今馬氏呼為金姑夫。

　　異史氏曰：「不嫁而守，不可謂不貞矣。為鬼數百年，而始易其操，抑何其無恥也？大抵貞魂烈魄，未必即依於土偶；其廟貌有靈，驚世而駭俗者，皆鬼狐憑之耳。」

CXXVI. THE WINE INSECT.

A MR. LIN of Ch‘angshan was extremely fat, and so fond of wine that he would often finish a pitcher by himself. However, he owned about fifty acres of land, half of which was covered with millet, and being well off, he did not consider that his drinking would bring him into trouble. One day a foreign Buddhist priest saw him, and remarked that he appeared to be suffering from some extraordinary complaint. Mr. Lin said nothing was the matter with him; whereupon the priest asked him if he often got drunk. Lin acknowledged that he did; and the priest told him that he was afflicted by the wine insect. “Dear me!” cried Lin, in great alarm, “do you think you could cure me?” The priest declared there would be no difficulty in doing so; but when Lin asked him what drugs he intended to use, the priest said he should not use any at all. He then made Lin lie down in the sun; and tying his hands and feet together, he placed a stoup of good wine about half a foot from his head. By-and-by, Lin felt a deadly thirst coming on; and the flavour of the wine passing through his nostrils, seemed to set his vitals on fire. Just then he experienced a tickling sensation in his throat, and something ran out of his mouth and jumped into the wine. On being released from his bonds, he saw that it was an insect about three inches in length, which wriggled about in the wine like a tadpole, and had mouth and eyes all complete. Lin was overjoyed, and offered money to the priest, who refused to take it, saying, all he wanted was the insect, which he explained to Lin was the essence of wine, and which, on being stirred up in water, would turn it into wine. Lin tried this, and found it was so; and ever afterwards he detested the sight of wine. He subsequently became very thin, and so poor that he had hardly enough to eat and drink.

酒蟲

　　長山劉氏，體肥嗜飲。每獨酌，輒盡一甕。負郭田三百畝，輒半種黍；而家豪富，不以飲為累也。一番僧見之，謂其身有異疾。劉答言：「無。」僧曰：「君飲嘗不醉否？」曰：「有之。」曰：「此酒蟲也。」劉愕然，便求醫療。曰：「易耳。」問：「需何藥？」俱言不須。但令於日中俯臥，縶手足；去首半尺許，置良醞一器。移時，燥渴，思飲為極。酒香入鼻，饞火上熾，而苦不得飲。忽覺咽中暴癢，哇有物出，直墮酒中。解縛視之，赤肉長三寸許，蠕動如游魚，口眼悉備。劉驚謝。酬以金，不受，但乞其蟲。問：「將何用？」曰：「此酒之精，甕中貯水，入蟲攪之，即成佳釀。」劉使試之，果然。劉自是惡酒如仇。體漸瘦，家亦日貧，後飲食至不能給。

　　異史氏曰：「日盡一石，無損其富；不飲一斗，適以益貧：豈飲啄固有數乎？或言：『蟲是劉之福，非劉之病，僧愚之以成其術。』然歟否歟？」

CXXVII. THE FAITHFUL DOG.

A CERTAIN man of Lungan, whose father had been cast into prison, and was brought almost to death’s door, scraped together one hundred ounces of silver, and set out for the city to try and arrange for his parent’s release. Jumping on a mule, he saw that a black dog, belonging to the family, was following him. He tried in vain to make the dog remain at home; and when, after travelling for some miles, he got off his mule to rest awhile, he picked up a large stone and threw it at the dog, which then ran off. However, he was no sooner on the road again, than up came the dog, and tried to stop the mule by holding on to its tail. His master beat it off with the whip; whereupon the dog ran barking loudly in front of the mule, and seemed to be using every means in its power to cause his master to stop. The latter thought this a very inauspicious omen, and turning upon the animal in a rage, drove it away out of sight. He now went on to the city; but when, in the dusk of the evening, he arrived there, he found that about half his money was gone. In a terrible state of mind he tossed about all night; then, all of a sudden, it flashed across him that the strange behaviour of the dog might possibly have some meaning; so getting up very early, he left the city as soon as the gates were open, and though, from the number of passers-by, he never expected to find his money again, he went on until he reached the spot where he had got off his mule the day before. There he saw his dog lying dead upon the ground, its hair having apparently been wetted through with perspiration; and, lifting up the body by one of its ears, he found his lost silver. Full of gratitude, he bought a coffin and buried the dead animal; and the people now call the place the Grave of the Faithful Dog.

義犬

　　潞安某甲，父陷獄將死。搜括囊蓄，得百金，將詣郡關說。跨騾出，則所養黑犬從之。呵逐使退；既走，則又從之，鞭逐不返。從行數十里。某下騎，趨路側私焉。既乃以石投犬，犬始奔去；某既行，則犬歘然復來，囓騾尾足。某怒鞭之。犬鳴吠不已。忽躍在前，憤齕騾首，似欲阻其去路。某以為不祥，益怒，回騎馳逐之。視犬已遠，乃返轡疾馳；抵郡已暮。及捫腰橐，金亡其半。涔涔汗下，魂魄都失。輾轉終夜，頓念犬吠有因。候關出城，細審來途。又自計南北衝衢，行人如蟻，遺金寧有存理？逡巡至下騎所，見犬斃草間，毛汗溼如洗。提耳起視，則封金儼然。感其義，買棺葬之，人以為義犬冢云。

CXXVIII. AN EARTHQUAKE.

IN 1668 there was a very severe earthquake. I myself was staying at Chihsia, and happened to be that night sitting over a kettle of wine with my cousin Li Tu. All of a sudden we heard a noise like thunder, travelling from the southeast in a north-westerly direction. We were much astonished at this, and quite unable to account for the noise; in another moment the table began to rock, and the winecups were upset; the beams and supports of the house snapped here and there with a crash, and we looked at each other in fear and trembling. By-and-by we knew that it was an earthquake; and, rushing out, we saw houses and other buildings, as it were, fall down and get up again; and, amidst the sounds of crushing walls, we heard the shrieks of women and children, the whole mass being like a great seething cauldron. Men were giddy and could not stand, but rolled about on the ground; the river overflowed its banks; cocks crowed, and dogs barked from one end of the city to the other. In a little while the quaking began to subside; and then might be seen men and women running half naked about the streets, all anxious to tell their own experiences, and forgetting that they had on little or no clothing. I subsequently heard that a well was closed up and rendered useless by this earthquake; that a house was turned completely round, so as to face the opposite direction; that the Chihsia hill was riven open, and that the waters of the I river flowed in and made a lake of an acre and more. Truly such an earthquake as this is of rare occurrence.

地震

康熙七年六月十七日戌刻，地大震。余適客稷下，方與表兄李篤之對燭飲。忽聞有聲如雷，自東南來，向西北去。眾駭異，不解其故。俄而幾案擺簸，酒杯傾覆；屋梁椽柱，錯折有聲。相顧失色。久之，方知地震，各疾趨出。見樓閣房舍，仆而復起；牆傾屋塌之聲，與兒啼女號，喧如鼎沸。人眩暈不能立，坐地上，隨地轉側。河水傾潑丈余，鴨鳴犬吠滿城中。逾一時許，始稍定。視街上，則男女裸聚，競相告語，並忘其未衣也。後聞某處井傾仄，不可汲；某家樓台南北易向；棲霞山裂；沂水陷穴，廣數畝。此真非常之奇變也。

有邑人婦，夜起溲溺，回則狼銜其子，婦急與狼爭。狼一緩頰，婦奪兒出，攜抱中。狼蹲不去。婦大號，鄰人奔集，狼乃去。婦驚定作喜，指天畫地，述狼銜兒狀，己奪兒狀。良久，忽悟一身未著寸縷，乃奔。此與地震時男婦兩忘者，同一情狀也。人之惶急無謀，一何可笑！

CXXIX. MAKING ANIMALS.

THE tricks for bewitching people are many. Sometimes drugs are put in their food, and when they eat they become dazed, and follow the person who has bewitched them. This is commonly called ta hsü pa; in Kiangnan it is known as ch‘ê hsü. Little children are most frequently bewitched in this way. There is also what is called “making animals,” which is better known on the south side of the River.

One day a man arrived at an inn in Yangchow, leading with him five donkeys. Tying them up near the stable, he told the landlord he would be back in a few minutes, and bade him give his donkeys no water. He had not been gone long before the donkeys, which were standing out in the glare of the sun, began to kick about, and make a noise; whereupon the landlord untied them, and was going to put them in the shade, when suddenly they espied water, and made a rush to get at it. So the landlord let them drink; and no sooner had the water touched their lips than they rolled on the ground, and changed into women. In great astonishment, the landlord asked them whence they came; but their tongues were tied, and they could not answer, so he hid them in his private apartments, and at that moment their owner returned, bringing with him five sheep. The latter immediately asked the landlord where his donkeys were; to which the landlord replied by offering him some wine, saying, the donkeys would be brought to him directly. He then went out and gave the sheep some water, on drinking which they were all changed into boys. Accordingly, he communicated with the authorities, and the stranger was arrested and forthwith beheaded.

造畜

魘昧之術，不一其道，或投美餌，紿之食之，則人迷罔，相從而去，俗名曰：「打絮巴」，江南謂之「扯絮」。小兒無知，輒受其害。又有變人為畜者，名曰「造畜」。此術江北猶少，河以南輒有之。揚州旅店中，有一人牽驢五頭，暫縶櫪下，云：「我少選即返。」兼囑：「勿令飲啖。」遂去。驢暴日中，蹄嚙殊喧。主人牽著涼處。驢見水，奔之，遂縱飲之。一滾塵，化為婦人。怪之，詰其所由，舌強而不能答。乃匿諸室中。既而驢主至，驅五羊于院中，驚問驢之所在。主人曳客坐，便進餐飲，且云：「客姑飯，驢即至矣。」主人出，悉飲五羊，輾轉皆童子。陰報郡，遣役捕獲，遂械殺之。

CXXX. CRUELTY AVENGED.

A CERTAIN magistrate caused a petty oil vendor, who was brought before him for some trifling misdemeanour, and whose statements were very confused, to be bambooed to death. The former subsequently rose to high rank; and having amassed considerable wealth, set about building himself a fine house. On the day when the great beam was to be fixed in its place, among the friends and relatives who arrived to offer their congratulations, he was horrified to see the oilman walk in. At the same instant one of the servants came rushing up to announce to him the birth of a son; whereupon, he mournfully remarked, “The house not yet finished, and its destroyer already here.” The bystanders thought he was joking, for they had not seen what he had seen. However, when that boy grew up, by his frivolity and extravagance he quite ruined his father. He was finally obliged himself to go into service; and spent all his earnings in oil, which he swallowed in large quantities.

拆樓人

　　何冏卿，平陰人。初令秦中，一賣油者有薄罪，其言戇，何怒，杖殺之。後仕至銓司，家貲富饒。建一樓，上梁日，親賓稱觴為賀。忽見賣油者入，陰自駭疑。俄報妾生子，愀然曰：「樓工未成，拆樓人已至矣！」人謂其戲，而不知其實有所見也。後子既長，最頑，蕩其家。傭為人役，每得錢數文，輒買香油食之。

　　異史氏曰：「常見富貴家數第連亙，死後，再過已墟。此必有拆樓人降生其家也。身居人上，烏可不早自惕哉！」

CXXXI. THE WEICH‘I DEVIL.

A CERTAIN general, who had resigned his command, and had retired to his own home, was very fond of roaming about and amusing himself with wine and weich‘i. One day—it was the 9th of the 9th moon, when everybody goes up high—as he was playing with some friends, a stranger walked up, and watched the game intently for some time without going away. He was a miserable looking creature, with a very ragged coat, but nevertheless possessed of a refined and courteous air. The general begged him to be seated, an offer which he accepted, being all the time extremely deferential in his manner. “I suppose you are pretty good at this,” said the general, pointing to the board; “try a bout with one of my friends here.” The stranger made a great many apologies in reply, but finally accepted, and played a game in which, apparently to his great disappointment, he was beaten. He played another with the same result; and now, refusing all offers of wine, he seemed to think of nothing but how to get some one to play with him. Thus he went on until the afternoon was well advanced; when suddenly, just as he was in the middle of a most exciting game, which depended on a single place, he rushed forward, and throwing himself at the feet of the general, loudly implored his protection. The general did not know what to make of this; however, he raised him up, and said, “It’s only a game: why get so excited?” To this the stranger replied by begging the general not to let his gardener seize him; and when the general asked what gardener he meant, he said the man’s name was Mach‘êng. Now this Mach‘êng was often employed as a lictor by the Ruler of Purgatory, and would sometimes remain away as much as ten days, serving the warrants of death; accordingly, the general sent off to inquire about him, and found that he had been in a trance for two days. His master cried out that he had better not behave rudely to his guest, but at that very moment the stranger sunk down to the ground, and was gone. The general was lost in astonishment; however, he now knew that the man was a disembodied spirit, and on the next day, when Mach‘êng came round, he asked him for full particulars. “The gentleman was a native of Huhsiang,” replied the gardener, “who was passionately addicted to weich‘i, and had lost a great deal of money by it. His father, being much grieved at his behaviour, confined him to the house; but he was always getting out, and indulging the fatal passion, and at last his father died of a broken heart. In consequence of this, the Ruler of Purgatory curtailed his term of life, and condemned him to become a hungry devil, in which state he has already passed seven years. And now that the Phœnix Tower is completed, an order has been issued for the literati to present themselves, and compose an inscription to be cut on stone, as a memorial thereof, by which means they would secure their own salvation as a reward. Many of the shades failing to arrive at the appointed time, God was very angry with the Ruler of Purgatory, and the latter sent off me, and others who are employed in the same way, to hunt up the defaulters. But as you, Sir, bade me treat the gentleman with respect, I did not venture to bind him.” The general inquired what had become of the stranger; to which the gardener replied, “He is now a mere menial in Purgatory, and can never be born again.” “Alas!” cried his master, “thus it is that men are ruined by any inordinate passion.”

棋鬼

　　揚州督同將軍梁公，解組鄉居，日攜棋酒，游林丘間。會九日登高與客弈，忽有一人來，逡巡局側，耽玩不去。視之，目面寒儉，懸鶉結焉，然意態溫雅，有文士風。公禮之，乃坐。亦殊撝謙。分指棋謂曰：「先生當必善此，何不與客對壘？」其人遜謝移時，始即局。局終而負，神情懊熱，若不自己。又著又負，益憤慚。酌之以酒，亦不飲，惟曳客弈。自晨至于日昃，不遑溲溺。方以一子爭路，兩互喋聒，忽書生離席悚立，神色慘阻。少間，屈膝向公座，敗顙乞救，公駭疑，起扶之曰：「戲耳，何至是？」書生曰：「乞囑付圉人，勿縛小生頸。」公又異之，問：「圉人誰？」曰：「馬成。」

　　先是，公圉役馬成者，走無常，十數日一入幽冥，攝牒作勾役。公以書生言異，遂使人往視成，則已僵臥三日矣。公乃叱成不得無禮，瞥見書生即地而滅，公嘆咤良久，乃悟其鬼。越日馬成寤，公召詰之。成曰：「渠湖襄人，癖嗜弈，產蕩盡。父憂之，閉置齋中。輒逾垣出，竊引空處，與弈者狎。父聞詬詈，終不可制止，父赍恨死。閻王以書生不德，促其年壽，罰入餓鬼獄，于今七年矣。會東岳鳳樓成，下牒諸府，征文人作碑記。王出之獄中，使應召自贖。不意中道遷延，大愆限期。岳帝使直曹問罪于王。王怒，使小人輩羅搜之。前承主人命，故未敢以縲紲系之。」公問：「今日作何狀？」曰：「仍付獄吏，永無生期矣。」公嘆曰：「癖之誤人也如是夫！」異史氏曰：「見弈遂忘其死；及其死也，見弈又忘其生。非其所欲有甚于生者哉？然癖嗜如此，尚未獲一高著，徒令九泉下，有長死不生之弈鬼也。哀哉！」

CXXXII. THE FORTUNEHUNTER PUNISHED.

A CERTAIN man’s uncle had no children, and the nephew, with an eye to his uncle’s property, volunteered to become his adopted son. When the uncle died all the property passed accordingly to his nephew, who thereupon broke faith as to his part of the contract. He did the same with another uncle, and thus united three properties in his own person, whereby he became the richest man of the neighbourhood. Suddenly he fell ill, and seemed to go out of his mind; for he cried out, “So you wish to live in wealth, do you?” and immediately seizing a sharp knife, he began hacking away at his own body until he had strewed the floor with pieces of flesh. He then exclaimed, “You cut off other people’s posterity and expect to have posterity yourself, do you?” and forthwith he ripped himself open and died. Shortly afterwards his son, too, died, and the property fell into the hands of strangers. Is not this a retribution to be dreaded?

果報

　　安丘某生，通卜筮之術。其為人邪蕩不檢，每有鑽穴踰隙之行，則卜之。一日，忽病，藥之，不愈。曰：「吾實有所見。冥中怒我狎褻天數，將重譴矣，藥何能為！」亡何，目暴瞽，兩手無故自折。

　　某甲者，伯無嗣。甲利其有，願為之後。伯既死，田產悉為所有，遂背前盟。又有叔，家頗裕，亦無子。甲又父之。死，又背之。於是併三家之產，富甲一鄉。一日，暴病若狂，自言曰：「汝欲享富厚而生耶！」遂以利刃自割肉，片片擲地。又曰：「汝絕人後，尚欲有後耶！」剖腹流腸，遂斃。未幾，子亦死，產業歸人矣。果報如此，可畏也夫！

CXXXIII. LIFE PROLONGED.

A CERTAIN cloth merchant of Ch‘angch‘ing was stopping at T‘aingan, when he heard of a magician who was said to be very skilled in casting nativities. So he went off at once to consult him; but the magician would not undertake the task, saying, “Your destiny is bad: you had better hurry home.” At this the merchant was dreadfully frightened, and, packing up his wares, set off towards Ch‘angch‘ing. On the way he fell in with a man in short clothes, like a constable; and the two soon struck up a friendly intimacy, taking their meals together. By-and-by the merchant asked the stranger what his business was; and the latter told him he was going to Ch‘angch‘ing to serve summonses, producing at the same time a document and showing it to the merchant, who, on looking closely, saw a list of names, at the head of which was his own. In great astonishment he inquired what he had done that he should be arrested thus; to which his companion replied, “I am not a living being: I am a lictor in the employ of the infernal authorities, and I presume your term of life has expired.” The merchant burst into tears and implored the lictor to spare him, which the latter declared was impossible; “But,” added he, “there are a great many names down, and it will take me some time to get through them: you go off home and settle up your affairs, and, as a slight return for your friendship, I’ll call for you last.” A few minutes afterwards they reached a stream where the bridge was in ruins, and people could only cross with great difficulty; at which the lictor remarked, “You are now on the road to death, and not a single cash can you carry away with you. Repair this bridge and benefit the public; and thus from a great outlay you may possibly yourself derive some small advantage.” The merchant said he would do so; and when he got home, he bade his wife and children prepare for his coming dissolution, and at the same time set men to work and made the bridge sound and strong again. Some time elapsed, but no lictor arrived; and his suspicions began to be aroused, when one day the latter walked in and said, “I reported that affair of the bridge to the Municipal God, who communicated it to the Ruler of Purgatory; and for that good act your span of life has been lengthened, and your name struck out of the list. I have now come to announce this to you.” The merchant was profuse in his thanks; and the next time he went to T‘aingan, he burnt a quantity of paper ingots, and made offerings and libations to the lictor, out of gratitude for what he had done. Suddenly the lictor himself appeared, and cried out, “Do you wish to ruin me? Happily my new master has only just taken up his post, and he has not noticed this, or where should I be?” The lictor then escorted the merchant some distance; and, at parting, bade him never return by that road, but, if he had any business at T‘aingan, to go thither by a roundabout way.

布客

　　長清某，販布為業，客於泰安。聞有術人工星命之學，詣問休咎。術人推之曰：「運數大惡，可速歸。」某懼，囊貲北下。途中遇一短衣人，似是隸胥。漸漬與語，遂相知悅。屢市餐飲，呼與共啜。短衣人甚德之。某問所幹營，答言：「將適長清，有所勾致。」問為何人。短衣人出牒，示令自審；第一即己姓名。駭曰：「何事見勾？」短衣人曰：「我非生人，乃蒿里山東四司隸役。想子壽數盡矣。」某出涕求救。鬼曰：「不能。然牒上名多，拘集尚需時日。子速歸，處置後事，我最後相招，此即所以報交好耳。」無何，至河際，斷絕橋梁，行人艱涉。鬼曰：「子行死矣，一文亦將不去。請即建橋，利行人；雖頗煩費，然於子未必無小益。」某然之。歸，告妻子作周身具。剋日鳩工建橋。久之，鬼竟不至。心竊疑之。一日，鬼忽來曰：「我已以建橋事上報城隍，轉達冥司矣，謂此一節可延壽命。今牒名已除，敬以報命。」某喜感謝。後再至泰山，不忘鬼德，敬齎楮錠，呼名酹奠。既出，見短衣人匆遽而來曰：「子幾禍我！適司君方蒞事，幸不聞知；不然，奈何！」送之數武，曰：「後勿復來。倘有事北往，自當迂道過訪。」遂別而去。

CXXXIV. THE CLAY IMAGE.

ON the river I there lived a man named Ma, who married a wife from the Wang family, with whom he was very happy in his domestic life. Ma, however, died young; and his wife’s parents were unwilling that their daughter should remain a widow, but she resisted all their importunities, and declared firmly she would never marry again. “It is a noble resolve of yours, I allow,” argued her mother; “but you are still a mere girl, and you have no children. Besides, I notice that people who start with such rigid determinations always end by doing something discreditable, and therefore you had better get married as soon as you can, which is no more than is done every day.” The girl swore she would rather die than consent, and accordingly her mother had no alternative but to let her alone. She then ordered a clay image to be made, exactly resembling her late husband; and whenever she took her own meals, she would set meat and wine before it, precisely as if her husband had been there. One night she was on the point of retiring to rest, when suddenly she saw the clay image stretch itself and step down from the table, increasing all the while in height, until it was as tall as a man, and neither more nor less than her own husband. In great alarm she called out to her mother, but the image stopped her, saying, “Don’t do that! I am but shewing my gratitude for your affectionate care of me, and it is chill and uncomfortable in the realms below. Such devotion as yours casts its light back on generations gone by; and now I, who was cut off in my prime because my father did evil, and was condemned to be without an heir, have been permitted, in consequence of your virtuous conduct, to visit you once again, that our ancestral line may yet remain unbroken.” Every morning at cockcrow her husband resumed his usual form and size as the clay image; and after a time he told her that their hour of separation had come, upon which husband and wife bade each other an eternal farewell. By-and-by the widow, to the great astonishment of her mother, bore a son, which caused no small amusement among the neighbours who heard the story; and, as the girl herself had no proof of what she stated to be the case, a certain beadle of the place, who had an old grudge against her husband, went off and informed the magistrate of what had occurred. After some investigation, the magistrate exclaimed, “I have heard that the children of disembodied spirits have no shadow; and that those who have shadows are not genuine.” Thereupon they took Ma’s child into the sunshine, and lo! there was but a very faint shadow, like a thin vapour. The magistrate then drew blood from the child, and smeared it on the clay image; upon which the blood at once soaked in and left no stain. Another clay image being produced and the same experiment tried, the blood remained on the surface so that it could be wiped away. The girl’s story was thus acknowledged to be true; and when the child grew up, and in every feature was the counterpart of Ma, there was no longer any room for suspicion.

土偶

　　沂水馬姓者，娶妻王氏，琴瑟甚敦。馬早逝。王父母欲奪其志，王矢不他。姑憐其少，亦勸之，王不聽。母曰：「汝志良佳；然齒太幼，兒又無出。每見有勉強於初，而貽羞於後者，固不如早嫁，猶恆情也。」王正容，以死自誓，母乃任之。女命塑工肖夫像，每食，酹獻如生時。一夕，將寢，忽見土偶人欠伸而下。駭心愕顧，即已暴長如人，真其夫也。女懼，呼母。鬼止之曰：「勿爾。感卿情好，幽壤酸辛。一門有忠貞，數世祖宗，皆有光榮。吾父生有損德，應無嗣，遂至促我茂齡；冥司念爾苦節，故令我歸，與汝生一子承祧緒。」女亦沾衿。遂燕好如平生。雞鳴，即下榻去。如此月餘，覺腹微動。鬼乃泣曰：「限期已滿，從此永訣矣！」遂絕。女初不言；即而腹漸大，不能隱，陰以告母。母疑涉妄；然窺女無他，大惑不解。十月，果舉一男。向人言之，聞者罔不匿笑；女亦無以自伸。有里正故與馬有郤，告諸邑令。今拘訊鄰人，並無異言。今曰：「聞鬼子無影，有影者偽也。」抱兒日中，影淡淡如輕煙然。又刺兒指血傅土偶上，立入無痕；取他偶塗之，一拭便去。以此信之。長數歲，口鼻言動，無一不肖馬者。群疑始解。

CXXXV. DISHONESTY PUNISHED.

AT Chiaochou there lived a man named Liu Hsich‘uan, who was steward to His excellency Mr. Fa. When already over forty a son was born to him, whom he loved very dearly, and quite spoilt by always letting him have his own way. When the boy grew up he led a dissolute, extravagant life, and ran through all his father’s property. By-and-by he fell sick, and then he declared that nothing would cure him but a slice off a fat old favourite mule they had; upon which his father had another and more worthless animal killed; but his son found out he was being tricked, and, after abusing his father soundly, his symptoms became more and more alarming. The mule was accordingly killed, and some of it was served up to the sick man; however, he only just tasted it and sent the rest away. From that time he got gradually worse and worse, and finally died, to the great grief of his father, who would gladly have died too. Three or four years afterwards, as some of the villagers were worshipping on Mount Tai, they saw a man riding on a mule, the very image of Mr. Liu’s dead son; and, on approaching more closely, they saw that it was actually he. Jumping from his mule, he made them a salutation, and then they began to chat with him on various subjects, always carefully avoiding that one of his own death. They asked him what he was doing there; to which he replied that he was only roaming about, and inquired of them in his turn at what inn they were staying; “For,” added he, “I have an engagement just now, but I will visit you tomorrow.” So they told him the name of the inn, and took their leave, not expecting to see him again. However, the next day he came, and, tying his mule to a post outside, went in to see them. “Your father,” observed one of the villagers, “is always thinking about you. Why do you not go and pay him a visit?” The young man asked to whom he was alluding; and, at the mention of his father’s name, he changed colour and said, “If he is anxious to see me, kindly tell him that on the 7th of the 4th moon I will await him here.” He then went away, and the villagers returned and told Mr. Liu all that had taken place. At the appointed time the latter was very desirous of going to see his son; but his master dissuaded him, saying that he thought from what he knew of his son that the interview might possibly not turn out as he would desire; “Although,” added he, “if you are bent upon going, I should be sorry to stand in your way. Let me, however, counsel you to conceal yourself in a cupboard, and thus, by observing what takes place, you will know better how to act, and avoid running into any danger.” This he accordingly did, and, when his son came, Mr. Fa received him at the inn as before. “Where’s Mr. Liu?” cried the son. “Oh, he hasn’t come,” replied Mr. Fa. “The old beast! What does he mean by that?” exclaimed his son; whereupon Mr. Fa asked him what he meant by cursing his own father. “My father!” shrieked the son; “why he’s nothing more to me than a former rascally partner in trade, who cheated me out of all my money, and for which I have since avenged myself on him. What sort of a father is that, I should like to know?” He then went out of the door; and his father crept out of the cupboard from which, with the perspiration streaming down him and hardly daring to breathe, he had heard all that had passed, and sorrowfully wended his way home again.

柳氏子

　　膠州柳西川，法內史之主計僕也。年四十餘，生一子，溺愛甚至。縱任之，惟恐拂。既長，蕩侈踰檢，翁囊積為空。無何，子病。翁故蓄善騾。子曰：「騾肥可啗。殺啖我，我病可愈。」柳謀殺蹇劣者。子聞之，即大怒罵，疾益甚。柳懼，殺騾以進。子乃喜。然嘗一臠，便棄去。疾卒不減，尋斃。柳悼歎欲死。後三四年，村人以香社登岱。至山半，見一人乘騾駛行而來，怪似柳子。比至，果是。下騾遍揖，各道寒暄。村人共駭，亦不敢詰其死。但問：「在此何作？」答云：「亦無甚事，東西奔馳而已。」便問逆旅主人姓名，眾具告之。柳子拱手曰：「適有小故，不暇敘間闊。明日當相謁。」上騾遂去。眾既歸寓，亦謂其未必即來。厭旦伺之，子果至，繫騾廄柱，趨進笑言。眾謂：「尊大人日切思慕，何不一歸省侍？」子訝問：「言者何人？」眾以柳對。子神色俱變，久之曰：「彼既見思，請歸傳語：我於四月七日，在此相候。」言訖，別去。眾歸，以情致翁。翁大哭，如期而往，自以其故告主人。主人止之曰：「曩見公子神情冷落，似未必有嘉意。以我卜也，殆不可見。」柳涕泣不信。主人曰：「我非阻君，神鬼無常，恐遭不善。如必欲見，請伏櫝中，待其來，察其詞色，可見則出。」柳如其言。既而子果至，問：「柳某來否？」主人答云：「無。」子盛氣罵曰：「老畜產那便不來！」主人驚曰：「何罵父？」答曰：「彼是我何父！初與義為客侶，不圖包藏禍心，隱我血貲，悍不還。今願得而甘心，何父之有！」言已，出門，曰：「便宜他！」柳在櫝歷歷聞之，汗流接踵，不敢出氣。主人呼之，乃出，狼狽而歸。

　　異史氏曰：「暴得多金，何如其樂？所難堪者償耳。蕩費殆盡，尚不忘於夜臺，怨毒之於人甚矣哉！」

CXXXVI. THE MAD PRIEST.

A CERTAIN mad priest, whose name I do not know, lived in a temple on the hills. He would sing and cry by turns, without any apparent reason; and once somebody saw him boiling a stone for his dinner. At the autumn festival of the 9th day of the 9th moon, an official of the district went up in that direction for the usual picnic, taking with him his chair and his red umbrellas. After luncheon he was passing by the temple, and had hardly reached the door, when out rushed the priest, barefooted and ragged, and himself opening a yellow umbrella, cried out as the attendants of a mandarin do when ordering the people to stand back. He then approached the official, and made as though he were jesting at him; at which the latter was extremely indignant, and bade his servants drive the priest away. The priest moved off with the servants after him, and in another moment had thrown down his yellow umbrella, which split into a number of pieces, each piece changing immediately into a falcon, and flying about in all directions. The umbrella handle became a huge serpent, with red scales and glaring eyes; and then the party would have turned and fled, but that one of them declared it was only an optical delusion, and that the creature couldn’t do any hurt. The speaker accordingly seized a knife and rushed at the serpent, which forthwith opened its mouth and swallowed its assailant whole. In a terrible fright the servants crowded round their master and hurried him away, not stopping to draw breath until they were fully a mile off. By-and-by several of them stealthily returned to see what was going on; and, on entering the temple, they found that both priest and serpent had disappeared. But from an old ash tree hard by they heard a sound proceeding,—a sound, as it were, of a donkey panting; and at first they were afraid to go near, though after a while they ventured to peep through a hole in the tree, which was an old hollow trunk; and there, jammed hard and fast with his head downwards, was the rash assailant of the serpent. It being quite impossible to drag him out, they began at once to cut the tree away; but by the time they had set him free he was already perfectly unconscious. However, he ultimately came round and was carried home; but from this day the priest was never seen again.

顛道人

　　顛道人，不知姓名，寓蒙山寺。歌哭不常，人莫之測，或見其煮石為飯者。會重陽，有邑貴載酒登臨，輿蓋而往，宴畢過寺，甫及門，則道人赤足著破衲，自張黃蓋，作警蹕聲而出，意近玩弄。邑貴乃慚怒，揮僕輩逐罵之。道人笑而卻走。逐急棄蓋；共毀裂之，片片化為鷹隼，四散群飛。眾始駭，蓋柄轉成巨蟒，赤鱗耀目。眾譁欲奔，有同游者止之曰：「此不過翳眼之幻術耳，烏能噬人！」遂操刃直前。蟒張吻怒逆，吞客嚥之。眾駭，擁貴人急奔，息於三里之外。使數人逡巡往探，漸入寺，則人蟒俱無。方將返報，聞老槐內喘急如驢，駭甚。初不敢前；潛蹤移近之，見樹朽中空，有竅如盤。試一攀窺，則鬥蟒者倒植其中，而孔大僅容兩手，無術可以出之。急以刀劈樹，比樹開而人已死。踰時少蘇，舁歸。道人不知所之矣。

　　異史氏曰：「張蓋游山，厭氣浹於骨髓。仙人游戲三昧，一何可笑！予鄉殷生文屏，畢司農之妹夫也，為人玩世不恭。章丘有周生者，以寒賤起家，出必駕肩而行。亦與司農有瓜葛之舊。值太夫人壽，殷料其必來，先候於道，著豬皮靴，公服持手本。俟周輿至，鞠躬道左，唱曰：「淄川生員，接章丘生員！」周慚，下輿；略致數語而別。少間，同聚於司農之堂，冠裳滿座，視其服色，無不竊笑；殷傲睨自若。既而筵終出門，各命輿馬。殷亦大聲呼：「殷老爺獨龍車何在？」有二健僕，橫扁杖於前，騰身跨之。致聲拜謝，飛馳而去。殷亦仙人之亞也。」

CXXXVII. FEASTING THE RULER OF PURGATORY.

AT Chinghai there lived a young man, named Shao, whose family was very poor. On the occasion of his mother completing her cycle, he arranged a quantity of meat offerings and wine on a table in the courtyard, and proceeded to invoke the Gods in the usual manner; but when he rose from his knees, lo and behold! all the meat and wine had disappeared. His mother thought this was a bad omen, and that she was not destined to enjoy a long life; however, she said nothing on the subject to her son, who was himself quite at a loss to account for what had happened. A short time afterwards the Literary Chancellor arrived; and young Shao, scraping together what funds he could, went off to present himself as a candidate. On the road he met with a man who gave him such a cordial invitation to his house that he willingly accepted; and the stranger led him to a stately mansion, with towers and terraces rising one above the other as far as the eye could reach. In one of the apartments was a king, sitting upon a throne, who received Shao in a very friendly manner; and, after regaling him with an excellent banquet, said, “I have to thank you for the food and drink you gave my servants that day we passed your house.” Shao was greatly astonished at this remark, when the King proceeded, “I am the Ruler of Purgatory. Don’t you recollect sacrificing on your mother’s birthday?” The King then bestowed on Shao a packet of silver, saying, “Pray accept this in return for your kindness.” Shao thanked him and retired; and in another moment the palace and its occupants had one and all vanished from his sight, leaving him alone in the midst of some tall trees. On opening his packet he found it to contain five ounces of pure gold; and, after defraying the expenses of his examination, half was still left, which he carried home and gave to his mother.

閻羅宴

　　靜海邵生，家貧。值母初度，備牲酒祀於庭；拜已而起，則案上肴饌皆空。甚駭，以情告母。母疑其困乏不能為壽，故詭言之，邵默然無以自白。無何，學使案臨，苦無資斧，薄貸而往。途遇一人，伏候道左，邀請甚殷。從去。見殿閣樓臺，彌亙街路。既入，一王者坐殿上。邵伏拜。王者霽顏命坐，即賜宴飲。因曰：「前過華居，廝僕輩道路飢渴，有叨盛饌。」邵愕然不解。王者曰：「我忤官王也。不記尊堂設帨之辰乎？」筵終，出白鏹一裹，曰：「豚蹄之擾，聊以相報。」受之而出，則宮殿人物，一時都渺；惟有大樹數章，蕭然道側。視所贈，則真金，秤之得五兩。考終，止耗其半，猶懷歸以奉母焉。

CXXXVIII. THE PICTURE HORSE.

A CERTAIN Mr. Ts‘ui, of Linch‘ing, was too poor to keep his garden walls in repair, and used often to find a strange horse lying down on the grass inside. It was a black horse marked with white, and having a scrubby tail, which looked as if the end had been burnt off; and, though always driven away, would still return to the same spot. Now Mr. Ts‘ui had a friend, who was holding an appointment in Shansi; and though he had frequently felt desirous of paying him a visit, he had no means of travelling so far. Accordingly, he one day caught the strange horse and, putting a saddle on its back, rode away, telling his servant that if the owner of the horse should appear, he was to inform him where the animal was to be found. The horse started off at a very rapid pace, and, in a short time, they were thirty or forty miles from home; but at night it did not seem to care for its food, so the next day Mr. Ts‘ui, who thought perhaps illness might be the cause, held the horse in, and would not let it gallop so fast. However, the animal did not seem to approve of this, and kicked and foamed until at length Mr. Ts‘ui let it go at the same old pace; and by midday he had reached his destination. As he rode into the town, the people were astonished to hear of the marvellous journey just accomplished, and the Prince sent to say he should like to buy the horse. Mr. Ts‘ui, fearing that the real owner might come forward, was compelled to refuse this offer; but when, after six months had elapsed, no inquiries had been made, he agreed to accept eight hundred ounces of silver, and handed over the horse to the Prince. He then bought himself a good mule, and returned home. Subsequently, the Prince had occasion to use the horse for some important business at Linch‘ing; and when there it took the opportunity to run away. The officer in charge pursued it right up to the house of a Mr. Tsêng, who lived next door to Mr. Ts‘ui, and saw it run in and disappear. Thereupon he called upon Mr. Tsêng to restore it to him; and, on the latter declaring he had never even seen the animal, the officer walked into his private apartments, where he found, hanging on the wall, a picture of a horse, by Tzŭang, exactly like the one he was in search of, and with part of the tail burnt away by a jossstick. It was now clear that the Prince’s horse was a supernatural creature; but the officer, being afraid to go back without it, would have prosecuted Mr. Tsêng, had not Ts‘ui, whose eight hundred ounces of silver had since increased to something like ten thousand, stepped in and paid back the original purchase money. Mr. Tsêng was exceedingly grateful to him for this act of kindness, ignorant, as he was, of the previous sale of the horse by Ts‘ui to the Prince.

畫馬

　　臨清崔生，家窶貧。圍垣不修。每晨起，輒見一馬臥露草間，黑質白章；惟尾毛不整，似火燎斷者。逐去，夜又復來，不知所自。崔有好友，官於晉，欲往就之，苦無健步，遂捉馬施勒乘去。囑屬家人曰：「倘有尋馬者，當如晉以告。」既就途，馬騖駛，瞬息百里。夜不甚餤芻豆，意其病。次日緊啣不令馳；而馬蹄嘶噴沫，健怒如昨。復縱之，午已達晉。時騎入市廛，觀者無不稱歎。晉王聞之，以重直購之。崔恐為失者所尋，不敢售。居半年，無耗，遂以八百金貨於晉邸，乃自市健騾以歸。後王以急務，遣校尉騎赴臨清。馬逸，追至崔之東鄰，入門，不見。索諸主人。主曾姓，實莫之睹。及入室，見壁間挂子昂畫馬一幀，內一匹毛色渾似，尾處為香炷所燒，始知馬，畫妖也。校尉難復王命，因訟曾。時崔得馬貲，居積盈萬，自願以直貸曾，付校尉去。曾甚德之，不知崔即當年之售主也。

CXXXIX. THE BUTTERFLY’S REVENGE.

MR. WANG, of Ch‘angshan, was in the habit, when a District Magistrate, of commuting the fines and penalties of the Penal Code, inflicted on the various prisoners, for a corresponding number of butterflies. These he would let go all at once in the court, rejoicing to see them fluttering hither and thither, like so many tinsel snippings borne about by the breeze. One night he dreamt that a young lady, dressed in gay coloured clothes, appeared to him and said, “Your cruel practice has brought many of my sisters to an untimely end, and now you shall pay the penalty of thus gratifying your tastes.” The young lady then changed into a butterfly and flew away. Next day, the magistrate was sitting alone, over a cup of wine, when it was announced to him that the censor was at the door; and out he ran at once to receive His Excellency, with a white flower, that some of his women had put in his official hat, still sticking there. His Excellency was very angry at what he deemed a piece of disrespect to himself; and, after severely censuring Mr. Wang, turned round and went away. Thenceforward no more penalties were commuted for butterflies.

放蝶

　　長山王進士㞳生為令時，每聽訟，按律之輕重，罰令納蝶自贖；堂上千百齊放，如風飄碎錦，王乃拍案大笑。一夜，夢一女子，衣裳華好，從容而入，曰：「遭君虐政，姊妹多物故。當使君先受風流之小譴耳。」言已，化為蝶，迴翔而去。明日，方獨酌署中，忽報直指使至，皇遽而出，閨中戲以素花簪冠上，忘除之。直指見之，以為不恭，大受詬罵而返。由是罰蝶之令遂止。

　　青城于重寅，性放誕。為司理時，元夕以火花爆竹縛驢上，首尾並滿，牽登太守之門，擊柝而請，自白：「某獻火驢，幸出一覽。」時太守有愛子患痘，心緒方惡，辭之。于固請之。太守不得已，使閽人啟鑰。門甫闢，于火發機，推驢入。爆震驢驚，踶趹狂奔；又飛火射人，人莫敢近。驢穿堂入室，破甌毀甑，火觸成塵，窗紗都燼。家人大譁。痘兒驚陷，終夜而死。太守痛恨，將揭劾之。于浼諸司道，登堂負荊，乃免。

CXL. THE DOCTOR.

A CERTAIN poor man, named Chang, who lived at I, fell in one day with a Taoist priest. The latter was highly skilled in the science of physiognomy; and, after looking at Chang’s features, said to him, “You would make your fortune as a doctor.” “Alas!” replied Chang, “I can barely read and write; how then could I follow such a calling as that?” “And where, you simple fellow,” asked the priest, “is the necessity for a doctor to be a scholar? You just try, that’s all.” Thereupon Chang returned home; and, being very poor, he simply collected a few of the commonest prescriptions, and set up a small stall with a handful of fishes’ teeth and some dry honeycomb from a wasp’s nest, hoping thus to earn, by his tongue, enough to keep body and soul together, to which, however, no one paid any particular attention. Now it chanced that just then the Governor of Ch‘ingchou was suffering from a bad cough, and had given orders to his subordinates to send to him the most skilful doctors in their respective districts; and the magistrate of I, which was an out-of-the-way mountainous district, being unable to lay his hands on any one whom he could send in, gave orders to the beadle to do the best he could under the circumstances. Accordingly, Chang was nominated by the people, and the magistrate put his name down to go in to the Governor. When Chang heard of his appointment, he happened to be suffering himself from a bad attack of bronchitis, which he was quite unable to cure, and he begged, therefore, to be excused; but the magistrate would not hear of this, and forwarded him at once in charge of some constables. While crossing the hills, he became very thirsty, and went into a village to ask for a drink of water; but water there was worth its weight in jade, and no one would give him any. By-and-by he saw an old woman washing a quantity of vegetables in a scanty supply of water which was, consequently, very thick and muddy; and, being unable to bear his thirst any longer, he obtained this and drank it up. Shortly afterwards he found that his cough was quite cured, and then it occurred to him that he had hit upon a capital remedy. When he reached the city, he learned that a great many doctors had already tried their hand upon the patient, but without success; so asking for a private room in which to prepare his medicines, he obtained from the town some bunches of bishopwort, and proceeded to wash them as the old woman had done. He then took the dirty water, and gave a dose of it to the Governor, who was immediately and permanently relieved. The patient was overjoyed; and, besides making Chang a handsome present, gave him a certificate written in golden characters, in consequence of which his fame spread far and wide; and of the numerous cases he subsequently undertook, in not a single instance did he fail to effect a cure. One day, however, a patient came to him, complaining of a violent chill; and Chang, who happened to be tipsy at the time, treated him by mistake for remittent fever. When he got sober, he became aware of what he had done; but he said nothing to anybody about it, and three days afterwards the same patient waited upon him with all kinds of presents to thank him for a rapid recovery. Such cases as this were by no means rare with him; and soon he got so rich that he would not attend when summoned to visit a sick person, unless the summons was accompanied by a heavy fee and a comfortable chair to ride in.

醫術

　　張氏者，沂之貧民。途中遇一道士，善風鑑，相之曰：「子當以術業富。」張曰：「宜何從？」又顧之，曰：「醫可也。」張曰：「我僅識之無耳，烏能是？」道士笑曰：「迂哉！名醫何必多識字乎？但行之耳。」既歸，貧無業，乃摭拾海上方，即市廛中除地作肆，設魚牙蜂房，謀升斗於口舌之間，而人亦未之奇也。會青州太守病嗽，牒檄所屬徵醫。沂故山僻，少醫工；而令懼無以塞責，又責里中使自報。於是共舉張。令立召之。張方痰喘，不能自療，聞命大懼，固辭。令弗聽，卒郵送之去。路經深山，渴極，咳愈甚。入村求水，而山中水價與玉液等，遍乞之，無與者。見一婦漉野菜，菜多水寡，盎中濃濁如涎。張燥急難堪，便乞餘瀋飲之。少間，渴解，嗽亦頓止。陰念：殆良方也。比至郡，諸邑醫工，已先施治，並未痊減。張入，求密所，偽作藥目，傳示內外；復遣人於民間索諸藜藿，如法淘汰訖，以汁進太守。一服，病良已。太守大悅，賜賚甚厚，旌以金匾。由此名大譟，門常如市，應手無不悉效。有病傷寒者，言症求方。張適醉，誤以瘧劑予之。醒而悟之，不敢以告人。三日後，有盛儀造門而謝者，問之，則傷寒之人，大吐大下而愈矣。此類甚多。張由此稱素封，益以聲價自重，聘者非重貲安輿不至焉。

　　益都韓翁，名醫也。其未著時，貨藥於四方。暮無所宿，投止一家，則其子傷寒將死，因請施治。韓思不治則去此莫適，而治之誠無術。往復跮踱，以手搓體，而汙成片，捻之如丸。頓思以此紿之，當亦無所害。曉而不愈，已賺得寢食安飽矣。遂付之。中夜，主人撾門甚急。意其子死，恐被侵辱，驚起，踰垣疾遁。主人追之數里，韓無所逃，始止。乃知病者汗出而愈矣。挽回，款宴豐隆；臨行，厚贈之。

CXLI. SNOW IN SUMMER.

ON the 6th day of the 7th moon of the year TingHai (1647) there was a heavy fall of snow at Soochow. The people were in a great state of consternation at this, and went off to the temple of the Great Prince to pray. Then the spirit moved one of them to say, “You now address me as Your Honour. Make it Your Excellency, and, though I am but a lesser deity, it may be well worth your while to do so.” Thereupon the people began to use the latter term, and the snow stopped at once; from which I infer that flattery is just as pleasant to divine as to mortal ears.

夏雪

　　丁亥年七月初六日，蘇州大雪。百姓皇駭，共禱諸大王之廟。大王忽附人而言曰：「如今稱老爺者，皆增一大字；其以我神為小，消不得一大字耶？」眾悚然，齊呼「大老爺」，雪立止。由此觀之，神亦喜諂，宜乎治下部者之得車多矣。

　　異史氏曰：「世風之變也，下者益諂，上者益驕。即康熙四十餘年中，稱謂之不古，甚可笑也。舉人稱爺，二十年始；進士稱老爺，三十年始；司、院稱大老爺，二十五年始。昔者大令謁中丞，亦不過老大人而止；今則此稱久廢矣。即有君子，亦素諂媚行乎諂媚，莫敢有異詞也。若縉紳之妻呼太太，裁數年耳。昔惟縉紳之母，始有此稱；以妻而得此稱者，惟淫史中有林喬耳，他未之見也。唐時，上欲加張說大學士。說辭曰：『學士從無大名，臣不敢稱。』今之大，誰大之？初由於小人之諂，而因得貴倨者之悅，居之不疑，而紛紛者遂遍天下矣。竊意數年以後，稱爺者必進而老，稱老者必進而大，但不知大上造何尊稱？匪夷所思已！」

　　丁亥年六月初三日，河南歸德府大雪尺餘，禾皆凍死，惜乎其未知媚大王之術也。悲夫！

CXLII. PLANCHETTE.

AT Ch‘angshan there lived a man, named Wang Juit‘ing, who understood the art of planchette. He called himself a disciple of Lü Tungpin, and some one said he was probably that worthy’s crane. At his séances the subjects were always literary—essays, poetry, and so on. The wellknown scholar, Li Chih, thought very highly of him, and availed himself of his aid on more than one occasion; so that by degrees the literati generally also patronized him. His responses to questions of doubt or difficulty were remarkable for their reasonableness; matters of mere good or bad fortune he did not care to enter into. In 1631, just after the examination at Chinan, a number of the candidates requested Mr. Wang to tell them how they would stand on the list; and, after having examined their essays, he proceeded to pass his opinion on their merits. Among the rest there happened to be one who was very intimate with another candidate, not present, whose name was Li Pien; and who, being an enthusiastic student and a deep thinker, was confidently expected to appear among the successful few. Accordingly, the friend submitted Mr. Li’s essay for inspection; and in a few minutes two characters appeared on the sand—namely, “Number one.” After a short interval this sentence followed:—“The decision given just now had reference to Mr. Li’s essay simply as an essay. Mr. Li’s destiny is darkly obscured, and he will suffer accordingly. It is strange, indeed, that a man’s literary powers and his destiny should thus be out of harmony. Surely the Examiner will judge of him by his essay;—but stay: I will go and see how matters stand.” Another pause ensued, and then these words were written down:—“I have been over to the Examiner’s yamên, and have found a pretty state of things going on; instead of reading the candidates’ papers himself, he has handed them over to his clerks, some half dozen illiterate fellows who purchased their own degrees, and who, in their previous existence, had no status whatever,—‘hungry devils’ begging their bread in all directions; and who, after eight hundred years passed in the murky gloom of the infernal regions, have lost all discrimination, like men long buried in a cave and suddenly transferred to the light of day. Among them may be one or two who have risen above their former selves, but the odds are against an essay falling into the hands of one of these.” The young men then begged to know if there was any method by which such an evil might be counteracted; to which the planchette replied that there was, but, as it was universally understood, there was no occasion for asking the question. Thereupon they went off and told Mr. Li, who was so much distressed at the prediction that he submitted his essay to His Excellency Sun Tzŭmei, one of the finest scholars of the day. This gentleman examined it, and was so pleased with its literary merit that he told Li he was quite sure to pass, and the latter thought no more about the planchette prophecy. However, when the list came out, there he was down in the fourth class; and this so much disconcerted His Excellency Mr. Sun, that he went carefully through the essay again for fear lest any blemishes might have escaped his attention. Then he cried out, “Well, I have always thought this Examiner to be a scholar; he can never have made such a mistake as this; it must be the fault of some of his drunken assistants, who don’t know the mere rudiments of composition.” This fulfilment of the prophecy raised Mr. Wang very high in the estimation of the candidates, who forthwith went and burned incense and invoked the spirit of the planchette, which at once replied in the following terms:—“Let not Mr. Li be disheartened by temporary failure. Let him rather strive to improve himself still further, and next year he may be among the first on the list.” Li carried out these injunctions; and after a time the story reached the ears of the Examiner, who gratified Li by making a public acknowledgment that there had been some miscarriage of justice at the examination; and the following year he was passed high up on the list.

何仙

　　長山王公子瑞亭，能以乩卜。乩神自稱何仙，為純陽弟子，或謂是呂祖所跨鶴云。每降，輒與人論文作詩。李太史質君師事之，丹黃課藝，理緒明切；太史揣摩成，賴何仙力居多焉，因之文學士多皈依之。然為人決疑難事，多憑理，不甚言休咎。辛未歲，朱文宗案臨濟南，試後，諸友請決等第。何仙索試藝，悉月旦之。座中有與樂陵李忭相善者，李固好學深思之士，眾屬望之，因出其文，代為之請。乩註云：「一等。」少間，又書云：「適評李生，據文為斷。然此生運氣大晦，應犯夏楚。異哉！文與數適不相符，豈文宗不論文耶？諸公少待，試一往探之。」少頃，又書云：「我適至提學署中，見文宗公事旁午，所焦慮者殊不在文也。一切置付幕客六七人，粟生、例監，都在其中，前世全無根氣，大半餓鬼道中游魂，乞食於四方者也。曾在黑暗獄中八百年，損其目之精氣，如人久在洞中，乍出，則天地異色，無正明也。中有一二為人身所化者，閱卷分曹，恐不能適相值耳。」眾問挽回之術。書云：「其術至實，人所共曉，何必問？」眾會其意，以告李。李懼，以文質孫太史子未，且訴以兆。太史贊其文，因解其惑。李以太史海內宗匠，心益壯，乩語不復置懷。後案發，竟居四等。太史大駭，取其文復閱之，殊無疵摘。評云：「石門公祖，素有文名，必不悠謬至此。是必幕中醉漢，不識句讀者所為。」於是眾益服何仙之神，共焚香祝謝之。乩書曰：「李生勿以暫時之屈，遂懷慚怍。當多寫試卷，益暴之，明歲可得優等。」李如其教。久之署中頗聞，懸牌特慰之。次歲果列前名，其靈應如此。

　　異史氏曰：「幕中多此輩客，無怪京都醜婦巷中，至夕無閒床也。鳴呼！」

CXLIII. FRIENDSHIP WITH FOXES.

A CERTAIN man had an enormous stack of straw, as big as a hill, in which his servants, taking what was daily required for use, had made quite a hole. In this hole a fox fixed his abode, and would often shew himself to the master of the house under the form of an old man. One day the latter invited the master to walk into the cave, which he at first declined, but accepted on being pressed by the fox; and when he got inside, lo! he saw a long suite of handsome apartments. They then sat down, and exquisitely perfumed tea and wine were brought; but the place was so gloomy that there was no difference between night and day. By-and-by, the entertainment being over, the guest took his leave; and on looking back the beautiful rooms and their contents had all disappeared. The old man himself was in the habit of going away in the evening and returning with the first streaks of morning; and as no one was able to follow him, the master of the house asked him one day whither he went. To this he replied that a friend invited him to take wine; and then the master begged to be allowed to accompany him, a proposal to which the old man very reluctantly consented. However, he seized the master by the arm, and away they went as though riding on the wings of the wind; and, in about the time it takes to cook a pot of millet, they reached a city, and walked into a restaurant, where there were a number of people drinking together and making a great noise. The old man led his companion to a gallery above, from which they could look down on the feasters below; and he himself went down and brought away from the tables all kinds of nice food and wine, without appearing to be seen or noticed by any of the company. After a while a man dressed in red garments came forward and laid upon the table some dishes of cumquats; and the master at once requested the old man to go down and get him some of these. “Ah,” replied the latter, “that is an upright man: I cannot approach him.” Thereupon the master said to himself, “By thus seeking the companionship of a fox, I then am deflected from the true course. Henceforth I, too, will be an upright man.” No sooner had he formed this resolution, than he suddenly lost all control over his body, and fell from the gallery down among the revellers below. These gentlemen were much astonished by his unexpected descent; and he himself, looking up, saw there was no gallery to the house, but only a large beam upon which he had been sitting. He now detailed the whole of the circumstances, and those present made up a purse for him to pay his travelling expenses; for he was at Yüt‘ai—one thousand li from home.

河間生

　　河間某生，場中積麥穰如丘，家人日取為薪，洞之。有狐居其中，常與主人相見，老翁也。一日，屈主人飲，拱生入洞。生難之，強而後入。入則廊舍華好。即坐，茶酒香烈。但日色蒼黃，不辨中夕。筵罷既出，景物俱杳。翁每夜往夙歸，人莫能跡，問之，則言友朋招飲。生請與俱，翁不可。固請之，翁始諾。挽生臂，疾如乘風，可炊黍時，至一城市。入酒肆，見坐客良多，聚飲頗嘩。乃引生登樓上。下視飲者，几案柈飱 ，可以指數。翁自下樓，任意取案上酒果，抔來供生，筵中人曾莫之禁。移時，生視一朱衣人前列金橘，命翁取之。翁曰：「此正人，不可近。」生默念：狐與我游，必我邪也。自今以往，我必正！方一注想，覺身不自主，眩墮樓下。飲者大駭，相譁以妖。生仰視，竟非樓上，乃梁間耳。以實告眾。眾審其情確，贈而遣之。問其處，乃魚臺，去河間千里云。

CXLIV. THE GREAT RAT.

DURING the reign of the Emperor Wan Li, the palace was troubled by the presence of a huge rat, quite as big as a cat, which ate up all the cats that were set to catch it. Just then it chanced that among the tribute offerings sent by some foreign State was a lion cat, as white as snow. This cat was accordingly put into the room where the rat usually appeared; and, the door being closely shut, a secret watch was kept. By-and-by the rat came out of its hole and rushed at the cat, which turned and fled, finally jumping up on the table. The rat followed, upon which the cat jumped down; and thus they went on up and down for some time. Those who were watching said the cat was afraid and of no use; however, in a little while the rat began to jump less briskly, and soon after squatted down out of breath. Then the cat rushed at it, and, seizing the rat by the back of the neck, shook and shook while its victim squeaked and squeaked, until life was extinct. Thus they knew the cat was not afraid, but merely waited for its adversary to be fatigued, fleeing when pursued and itself pursuing the fleeing rat. Truly, many a bad swordsman may be compared with that rat!

大鼠

　　萬曆間，宮中有鼠，大與貓等，為害甚劇。遍求民間佳貓捕制之，輒被噉食。適異國來貢獅貓，毛白如雪。抱投鼠屋，闔其扉，潛窺之。貓蹲良久，鼠逡巡自穴中出，見貓，怒奔之。貓避登几上，鼠亦登，貓則躍下。如此往復，不啻百次。眾咸謂貓怯，以為是無能為者。既而鼠跳擲漸遲，碩腹似喘，蹲地上少休。貓即疾下，爪掬頂毛，口齕首領，輾轉爭持，貓聲嗚嗚，鼠聲啾啾。啟扉急視，則鼠首已嚼碎矣。然後知貓之避，非怯也，待其惰也。彼出則歸，彼歸則復，用此智耳。噫！匹夫按劍，何異鼠乎！

CXLV. WOLVES.

I.

—A CERTAIN village butcher, who had bought some meat at market and was returning home in the evening, suddenly came across a wolf, which followed him closely, its mouth watering at the sight of what he was carrying. The butcher drew his knife and drove the animal off; and then reflecting that his meat was the attraction, he determined to hang it up in a tree and fetch it the next morning. This he accordingly did, and the wolf followed him no further; but when he went at daylight to recover his property, he saw something hanging up in the tree resembling a human corpse. It turned out to be the wolf, which, in its efforts to get at the meat, had been caught on the meathook like a fish; and as the skin of a wolf was just then worth ten ounces of silver, the butcher found himself possessed of quite a little capital. Here we have a laughable instance of the result of “climbing trees to catch fish.”

II.

—A butcher, while travelling along at night, was sore pressed by a wolf, and took refuge in an old mat shed which had been put up for the watchman of the crops. There he lay, while the wolf sniffed at him from outside, and at length thrust in one of its paws from underneath. This the butcher seized hold of at once, and held it firmly, so that the wolf couldn’t stir; and then, having no other weapon at hand, he took a small knife he had with him and slit the skin underneath the wolf’s paw. He now proceeded to blow into it, as butchers blow into pork; and after vigorously blowing for some time, he found that the wolf had ceased to struggle; upon which he went outside and saw the animal lying on the ground, swelled up to the size of a cow, and unable to bend its legs or close its open mouth. Thereupon he threw it across his shoulders and carried it off home. However, such a feat as this could only be accomplished by a butcher.

狼三則

　　有屠人貨肉歸，日已暮。歘一狼來，瞰擔中肉，似甚涎垂；步亦步，尾行數里。屠懼，示之以刃，則稍卻；既走，又從之。屠無計，默念狼所欲者肉，不如姑懸諸樹而蚤取之。遂鉤肉，翹足挂樹間，示以空空。狼乃止。屠即逕歸。昧爽往取肉，遙望樹上懸巨物，似人縊死狀，大駭。逡巡近之，則死狼也。仰首審視，見口中含肉，肉鉤刺狼腭，如魚吞餌。時狼革價昂，直十餘金，屠小裕焉。緣木求魚，狼則罹之，亦可笑已！

　　一屠晚歸，擔中肉盡，止有剩骨。途中兩狼，綴行甚遠。屠懼，投以骨。一狼得骨止，一狼仍從；復投之，後狼止而前狼又至；骨已盡，而兩狼之並驅如故。屠大窘，恐前後受其敵。顧野有麥場，場主積薪其中，苫蔽成丘。屠乃奔倚其下，弛擔持刀。狼不敢前，眈眈相向。少時，一狼逕去；其一犬坐於前，久之，目似瞑，意暇甚。屠暴起，以刀劈狼首，又數刀斃之。方欲行，轉視積薪後，一狼洞其中，意將隧入以攻其後也。身已半入，止露尻尾。屠自後斷其股，亦斃之。乃悟前狼假寐，蓋以誘敵。狼亦黠矣！而頃刻兩斃，禽獸之變詐幾何哉，止增笑耳！

　　一屠暮行，為狼所逼。道傍有夜耕者所遺行室，奔入伏焉。狼自苫中探爪入。屠急捉之，令不可去。顧無計可以死之。惟有小刀不盈寸，遂割破爪下皮，以吹豕之法吹之。極力吹移時，覺狼不甚動，方縛以帶。出視，則狼脹如牛，股直不能屈，口張不得合。遂負之以歸。非屠烏能作此謀也？三事皆出於屠；則屠人之殘，殺狼亦可用也。

CXLVI. SINGULAR VERDICT.

A SERVANT in the employ of a Mr. Sun was sleeping alone one night, when all on a sudden he was arrested and carried before the tribunal of the Ruler of Purgatory. “This is not the right man,” cried his Majesty, and immediately sent him back. However, after this the servant was afraid to sleep on that bed again, and took up his quarters elsewhere. But another servant, named Kuo Ngan, seeing the vacant place, went and occupied it. A third servant, named Li Lu, who had an old standing grudge against the first, stole up to the bed that same night with a knife in his hand, and killed Kuo Ngan in mistake for his enemy. Kuo’s father at once brought the case before the magistrate of the place, pleading that the murdered man was his only son on whom he depended for his living; and the magistrate decided that Kuo was to take Li Lu in the place of his dead son, much to the discomfiture of the old man. Truly the descent of the first servant into Purgatory was not so marvellous as the magistrate’s decision!

郭安

　　孫五粒，有僮僕獨宿一室，恍惚被人攝去。至一宮殿，見閻羅在上，視之曰：「悞矣，此非是。」因遣送還。既歸，大懼，移宿他所；遂有僚僕郭安者，見榻空閒，因就寢焉。又一僕李祿，與僮有夙怨，久將甘心，是夜操刀入，捫之，以為僮也，竟殺之。郭父鳴於官。時陳其善為邑宰，殊不苦之。郭哀號，言：「半生止此子，今將何以聊生！」陳即以李祿為之子。郭含冤而退。此不奇於僮之見鬼，而奇於陳之折獄也。

　　濟之西邑有殺人者，其婦訟之。令怒，立拘凶犯至，拍案罵曰：「人家好好夫婦，直令寡耶！即以汝配之，亦令汝妻寡守。」遂判合之。此等明決，皆是甲榜所為，他途不能也。而陳亦爾爾，何途無才！

CXLVII. THE GRATEFUL DOG.

A CERTAIN trader who had been doing business at Wuhu and was returning home with the large profits he had made, saw on the river bank a butcher tying up a dog. He bought the animal for much more than its value, and carried it along with him in his boat. Now the boatman had formerly been a bandit; and, tempted by his passenger’s wealth, ran the boat among the rushes, and, drawing a knife, prepared to slay him. The trader begged the man to leave him a whole skin; so the boatman wrapped him up in a carpet and threw him into the river. The dog, on seeing what was done, whined piteously, and jumping into the river, seized the bundle with his teeth and did its best to keep the trader above water until at length a shallow spot was reached. The animal then succeeded by continuous barking in attracting the attention of some people on the bank, and they hauled the bundle out of the river, and released the trader who was still alive. The latter asked to be taken back to Wuhu where he might look out for the robber boatman; but just as he was about to start, lo! the dog was missing. The trader was much distressed at this; and after spending some days at Wuhu without being able to find, among the forest of masts collected there, the particular boat he wanted, he was on the point of returning home with a friend, when suddenly the dog reappeared and seemed by its barking to invite its master to follow in a certain direction. This the trader did, until at length the dog jumped on a boat and seized one of the boatmen by the leg. No beating could make the animal let go; and on looking closely at the man, the trader saw he was the identical boatman who had robbed and tried to murder him. He had changed his clothes and also his boat, so that at first he was not recognisable; he was now, however, arrested, and the whole of the money was found in his boat. To think that a dog could show gratitude like that! Truly there are not a few persons who would be put to shame by that faithful animal.

義犬

　　周村有賈某，貿易蕪湖，獲重貲。賃舟將歸，見堤上有屠人縛犬，倍價贖之，養豢舟上。舟上固積寇也，窺客裝，蕩舟入莽，操刀欲殺。賈哀賜以全尸，盜乃以氈裹置江中。犬見之，哀嗥投水，口啣裹具，與共浮沉。流蕩不知幾里，達淺擱乃止。犬泅出，至有人處，狺狺哀吠。或以為異，從之而往，見氈束水中，引出斷其繩。客固未死，始言其情。復哀舟人，載還蕪湖，將以伺盜船之歸。登舟失犬，心甚悼焉。抵關三四日，估楫如林，而盜船不見。適有同鄉估客將攜俱歸，忽犬自來，望客大嗥，喚之卻走。客下舟趁之。犬奔上一舟，嚙人脛股，撻之不解。客近呵之，則所嚙即前盜也。衣服與舟皆易，故不得而認之矣。縛而搜之，則裹金猶在。嗚呼！一犬也，而報恩如是。世無心肝者，其亦愧此犬也夫！

CXLVIII. THE GREAT TEST.

BEFORE Mr. Yang Tahung was known to fame, he had already acquired some reputation as a scholar in his own part of the country, and felt convinced himself that his was to be no mean destiny. When the list of successful candidates at the examination was brought to where he lived, he was in the middle of dinner, and rushed out with his mouth full to ask if his name was there or not; and on hearing that it was not, he experienced such a revulsion of feeling that what he then swallowed stuck fast like a lump in his chest and made him very ill. His friends tried to appease him by advising him to try at the further examination of the rejected, and when he urged that he had no money, they subscribed ten ounces of silver and started him on his way.

That night he dreamt that a man appeared to him and said, “Ahead of you there is one who can cure your complaint: beseech him to aid you.” The man then added—

“A tune on the flute ’neath the riverside willow:

Oh, show no regret when ’tis cast to the billow!”

Next day, Mr. Yang actually met a Taoist priest sitting beneath a willow tree; and, making him a bow, asked him to prescribe for his malady. “You have come to the wrong person,” replied the priest, smiling; “I cannot cure diseases; but had you asked me for a tune on the flute, I could have possibly helped you.” Then Mr. Yang knew that his dream was being fulfilled; and going down on his knees offered the priest all the money he had. The priest took it, but immediately threw it into the river, at which Mr. Yang, thinking how hardly he had come by this money, was moved to express his regret. “Aha!” cried the priest at this; “so you are not indifferent, eh? You’ll find your money all safe on the bank.” There indeed Mr. Yang found it, at which he was so much astonished that he addressed the priest as though he had been an angel. “I am no angel,” said the priest, “but here comes one;” whereupon Mr. Yang looked behind him, and the priest seized the opportunity to give him a slap on the back, crying out at the same time, “You worldly-minded fellow!” This blow brought up the lump of food that had stuck in his chest, and he felt better at once; but when he looked round the priest had disappeared.

楊大洪

　　大洪楊先生漣，微時為楚名儒，自命不凡。科試後，聞報優等者，時方食，含哺出問：「有楊某否？」答云：「無。」不覺嗒然自喪，嚥食入鬲，遂成病塊，噎阻甚苦。眾勸令錄遺才；公患無貲，眾醵十金送之行，乃強就道。夜夢人告之云：「前途有人能愈君疾，宜苦求之。」臨去，贈以詩，有「江邊柳下三弄笛，拋向江心莫歎息」之句。明日途次，果見道士坐柳下，因便叩請。道士笑曰：「子悞矣，我何能療病？請為三弄可也。」因出笛吹之。公觸所夢，拜求益切，且傾囊獻之。道士接金，擲諸江流。公以所來不易，啞然驚惜。道士曰：「君未能恝然耶？金在江邊，請自取之。」公詣視果然。又益奇之，呼為仙。道士漫指曰：「我非仙，彼處仙人來矣。」賺公回顧，力拍其項曰：「俗哉！」公受拍，張吻作聲，喉中嘔出一物，墮地堛然，俯而破之，赤絲中裹飯猶存，病若失。回視道士已杳。

　　異史氏曰：「公生為河嶽，沒為日星，何必長生乃為不死哉！或以未能免俗，不作天仙，因而為公悼惜；余謂天上多一仙人，不如世上多一聖賢，解者必不議予說之傎也。」

CXLIX. THE ALCHEMIST.

AT Ch‘angngan there lived a scholar named Chia Tzŭlung, who one day noticed a very refined looking stranger; and, on making inquiries about him, learnt that he was a Mr. Chên, who had taken lodgings hard by. Accordingly, next day Chia called and sent in his card, but did not see Chên, who happened to be out at the time. The same thing occurred thrice; and at length Chia engaged some one to watch and let him know when Mr. Chên was at home. However, even then the latter would not come forth to receive his guest, and Chia had to go in and rout him out. The two now entered into conversation, and soon became mutually charmed with each other; and by-and-by Chia sent off a servant to bring wine from a neighbouring wine shop. Mr. Chên proved himself a pleasant boon companion, and when the wine was nearly finished, he went to a box, and took from it some winecups and a large and beautiful jade tankard, into the latter of which he poured a single cup of wine, and lo! it was filled to the brim. They then proceeded to help themselves from the tankard; but however much they took out, the contents never seemed to diminish. Chia was astonished at this, and begged Mr. Chên to tell him how it was done. “Ah,” replied Mr. Chên, “I tried to avoid making your acquaintance solely because of your one bad quality—avarice. The art I practise is a secret known to the Immortals only: how can I divulge it to you?” “You do me wrong,” rejoined Chia, “in thus attributing avarice to me. The avaricious, indeed, are always poor.” Mr. Chên laughed, and they separated for that day; but from that time they were constantly together, and all ceremony was laid aside between them. Whenever Chia wanted money, Mr. Chên would bring out a black stone, and, muttering a charm, would rub it on a tile or a brick, which was forthwith changed into a lump of silver. This silver he would give to Chia, and it was always just as much as he actually required, neither more nor less; and if ever the latter asked for more, Mr. Chên would rally him on the subject of avarice. Finally, Chia determined to try and get possession of this stone; and one day, when Mr. Chên was sleeping off the fumes of a drinking bout, he tried to extract it from his clothes. However, Chên detected him at once, and declared that they could be friends no more, and next day he left the place altogether. About a year afterwards Chia was one day wandering by the riverbank, when he saw a handsome looking stone, marvellously like that in the possession of Mr. Chên; and he picked it up at once and carried it home with him. A few days passed away, and suddenly Mr. Chên presented himself at Chia’s house, and explained that the stone in question possessed the property of changing anything into gold, and had been bestowed upon him long before by a certain Taoist priest, whom he had followed as a disciple. “Alas!” added he, “I got tipsy and lost it; but divination told me where it was, and if you will now restore it to me, I shall take care to repay your kindness.” “You have divined rightly,” replied Chia; “the stone is with me; but recollect, if you please, that the indigent Kuan Chung shared the wealth of his friend Pao Shu.” At this hint Mr. Chên said he would give Chia one hundred ounces of silver; to which the latter replied that one hundred ounces was a fair offer, but that he would far sooner have Mr. Chên teach him the formula to utter when rubbing the stone on anything, so as just to try the thing once himself. Mr. Chên was afraid to do this; whereupon Chia cried out, “You are an Immortal yourself; you must know well enough that I would never deceive a friend.” So Mr. Chên was prevailed upon to teach him the formula, and then Chia would have tried the art upon the immense stone washing block which was lying near at hand, had not Mr. Chên seized his arm and begged him not to do any thing so outrageous. Chia then picked up half a brick and laid it on the washing block, saying to Mr. Chên, “This little piece is not too much, surely?” Accordingly, Mr. Chên relaxed his hold and let Chia proceed; which he did by promptly ignoring the half brick and quickly rubbing the stone on the washing block. Mr. Chên turned pale when he saw him do this, and made a dash forward to get hold of the stone; but it was too late, the washing block was already a solid mass of silver, and Chia quietly handed him back the stone. “Alas! alas!” cried Mr. Chên, in despair, “what is to be done now? For having thus irregularly conferred wealth upon a mortal, Heaven will surely punish me. Oh, if you would save me, give away one hundred coffins and one hundred suits of wadded clothes.” “My friend,” replied Chia, “my object in getting money was not to hoard it up like a miser.” Mr. Chên was delighted at this; and during the next three years Chia engaged in trade, taking care to be all the time fulfilling his promise to Mr. Chên. At the expiration of that time Mr. Chên himself reappeared, and, grasping Chia’s hand, said to him, “Trustworthy and noble friend, when we last parted the Spirit of Happiness impeached me before God, and my name was erased from the list of angels. But now that you have carried out my request, that sentence has accordingly been rescinded. Go on as you have begun, without ceasing.” Chia asked Mr. Chên what office he filled in heaven; to which the latter replied that he was only a fox, who, by a sinless life, had finally attained to that clear perception of the Truth which leads to immortality. Wine was then brought, and the two friends enjoyed themselves together as of old; and even when Chia had passed the age of ninety years, that fox still used to visit him from time to time.

真生

　　長安士人賈子龍，偶過鄰巷，見一客，風度灑如。問之，則真生，咸陽僦寓者也。心慕之。明日，往投刺，適值其亡；凡三謁，皆不遇。乃陰使人窺其在舍而後過之，真走避不出；賈搜之始出。促膝傾談，大相知悅。賈就逆旅，遣僮行沽。真又善飲，能雅謔，樂甚。酒欲盡，真搜篋出飲器，玉卮無當，注杯酒其中，盎然已滿；以小琖挹取入壺，並無少減。賈異之，堅求其術。真曰：「我不願相見者，君無他短，但貪心未淨耳。此乃仙家隱術，何能相授。」賈曰：「冤哉！我何貪，間萌奢想者，徒以貧耳。」一笑而散。由是往來無間，形骸盡忘。每值乏窘，真輒出黑石一塊，吹咒其上，以磨瓦礫，立刻化為白金，便以贈生；僅足所用，未嘗贏餘。賈每求益。真曰：「我言君貪，如何，如何！」賈思明告必不可得，將乘其醉睡，竊石而要之。一日，飲既臥，賈潛起，搜諸衣底。真覺之曰：「子真喪心，不可處也！」遂辭別，移居而去。後年餘，賈遊河干，見一石瑩潔，絕類真生物。拾之，珍藏若寶。過數日，真忽至，然若有所失。賈慰問之。真曰：「君前所見，乃仙人點金石也。曩從抱真子游，彼憐我介，以此相貽。醉後失去，隱卜當在君所。如有還帶之恩，不敢忘報。」賈笑曰：「僕生平不敢欺友朋，誠如所卜。但知管仲之貧者，莫如鮑叔，君且奈何？」真請以百金為贈。賈曰：「百金非少，但授我口訣，一親試之，無憾矣。」真恐其寡信。賈曰：「君自仙人，豈不知賈某寧失信於朋友者哉！」直授其訣。賈顧砌上有巨石，將試之。真掣其肘，不聽前。賈乃俯掬半磚，置砧上曰：「若此者，非多耶？」真乃聽之。賈不磨磚而磨砧；真變色欲與爭，而砧已化為渾金。反石於真。真嘆曰：「業如此，復何言。然妄以福祿加人，必遭天譴。如逭我罪，施材百具、絮衣百領，肯之乎？」賈曰：「僕所以欲得錢者，原非欲窖藏之也。君尚視我為守錢鹵耶？」真喜而去。賈得金，且施且賈；不三年，施數已滿。真忽至，握手曰：「君信義人也！別後被福神奏帝，削去仙籍；蒙君博施，今以功德消罪。愿勉之，勿替也。」賈問真係天上何曹。曰：「我乃有道之狐耳。出身綦微。不堪孽累，故生平自愛，一毫不敢妄作。」賈為設酒，遂與懽飲如初。賈至九十餘，狐猶時至其家。

　　長山某，賣解信藥，即垂危，灌之無不活；然祕其方，即戚好不傳也。一日，以株累被逮。妻弟餉食獄中，隱置信焉。坐待食已而後告之。不信。少頃，腹中潰動，始大驚，罵曰：「畜產速行！家中雖有藥末，恐道遠難俟；急於城中物色薜荔為為末，清水一琖，速將來！」妻弟如其教。迨覓至，某已嘔瀉欲死，急投之，立刻而安。其方自此逐傳。此亦猶狐之祕其石也。

CL. RAISING THE DEAD.

MR. T‘ANG P‘ING, who took the highest degree in the year 1661, was suffering from a protracted illness, when suddenly he felt, as it were, a warm glow rising from his extremities upwards. By the time it had reached his knees, his feet were perfectly numb and without sensation; and before long his knees and the lower part of his body were similarly affected. Gradually this glow worked its way up until it attacked the heart, and then some painful moments ensued. Every single incident of Mr. T‘ang’s life from his boyhood upwards, no matter how trivial, seemed to surge through his mind, borne along on the tide of his heart’s blood. At the revival of any virtuous act of his, he experienced a delicious feeling of peace and calm; but when any wicked deed passed before his mind, a painful disturbance took place within him, like oil boiling and fretting in a cauldron. He was quite unable to describe the pangs he suffered; however, he mentioned that he could recollect having stolen, when only seven or eight years old, some young birds from their nest, and having killed them; and for this alone, he said, boiling blood rushed through his heart during the space of an ordinary mealtime. Then when all the acts of his life had passed one after another in panorama before him, the warm glow proceeded up his throat, and, entering the brain, issued out at the top of his head like smoke from a chimney. By-and-by Mr. T‘ang’s soul escaped from his body by the same aperture, and wandered far away, forgetting all about the tenement it had left behind. Just at that moment a huge giant came along, and, seizing the soul, thrust it into his sleeve, where it remained cramped and confined, huddled up with a crowd of others, until existence was almost unbearable. Suddenly Mr. T‘ang reflected that Buddha alone could save him from this horrible state, and forthwith he began to call upon his holy name. At the third or fourth invocation he fell out of the giant’s sleeve, whereupon the latter picked him up and put him back; but this happened several times, and at length the giant, wearied of picking him up, let him lie where he was. The soul lay there for some time, not knowing in which direction to proceed; however, it soon recollected that the land of Buddha was in the west, and westwards accordingly it began to shape its course. In a little while the soul came upon a Buddhist priest sitting by the roadside, and, hastening forwards, respectfully inquired of him which was the right way. “The record of life and death for scholars,” replied the priest, “is in the hands of Wênch‘ang and Confucius; any application must receive the consent of both.” The priest then directed Mr. T‘ang on his way, and the latter journeyed along until he reached a Confucian temple, in which the Sage was sitting with his face to the south. On hearing his business, Confucius referred him on to Wênch‘ang; and, proceeding onwards in the direction indicated, Mr. T‘ang by-and-by arrived at what seemed to be the palace of a king, within which sat Wênch‘ang, precisely as we depict him on earth. “You are an upright man,” replied the God, in reply to Mr. T‘ang’s prayer, “and are certainly entitled to a longer span of life; but by this time your mortal body has become decomposed, and unless you can secure the assistance of P‘usa, I can give you no aid.” So Mr. T‘ang set off once more, and hurried along until he came to a magnificent shrine standing in a thick grove of tall bamboos; and, entering in, he stood in the presence of the God, on whose head was the ushnisha, whose golden face was round like the full moon, and at whose side was a green willow branch bending gracefully over the lip of a vase. Humbly Mr. T‘ang prostrated himself on the ground, and repeated what Wênch‘ang had said to him; but P‘usa seemed to think it would be impossible to grant his request, until one of the Lohans who stood by cried out, “O God, Thou canst perform this miracle: take earth and make his flesh; take a sprig of willow and make his bones.” Thereupon P‘usa broke off a piece from the willow branch in the vase beside him; and, pouring a little of the water upon the ground, he made clay, and, casting the whole over Mr. T‘ang’s soul, bade an attendant lead the body back to the place where his coffin was. At that instant Mr. T‘ang’s family heard a groan proceeding from within his coffin, and, on rushing to it and helping out the lately deceased man, they found he had quite recovered. He had then been dead seven days.

湯公

湯公名聘，辛丑進士。抱病彌留。忽覺下部熱氣，漸升而上：至股，則足死；至腹，則股又死；至心，心之死最難。凡自童稚以及瑣屑久忘之事，都隨心血來，一一潮過。如一善，則心中清淨寧貼；一惡，則懊憹煩燥，似油沸鼎中，其難堪之狀，口不能肖似之。猶憶七八歲時，曾探雀雛而斃之，只此一事，心頭熱血潮涌，食頃方過。直待平生所為，一一潮盡，乃覺熱氣縷縷然，穿喉入腦，自頂顛出，騰上如炊，逾數十刻期，魂乃離竅，忘軀殼矣。

而渺渺無歸，漂泊郊路間。一巨人來，高幾盈尋，掇拾之，納諸袖中。入袖，則疊肩壓股，其人甚伙，薅惱悶氣，殆不可過。公頓思惟佛能解厄，因宣佛號，才三四聲，飄墮袖外。巨人復納之。三納三墮，巨人乃去之。公獨立徬徨徨，未知何往之善。憶佛在西土，乃遂西。無何，見路側一僧趺坐，趨拜問途。僧曰：「凡士子生死錄，文昌及孔聖司之，必兩處銷名，乃可他適。」公問其居，僧示以途，奔赴。

無幾，至聖廟，見宣聖南面坐。拜禱如前。宣聖言：「名籍之落，仍得帝君。」因指以路。公又趨之。見一殿閣，如王者居。俯身入，果有神人，如世所傳帝君像。伏祝之。帝君檢名曰：「汝心誠正，宜復有生理。但皮囊腐矣，非菩薩莫能為力。」因指示令急往。公從其數。俄見茂林修竹，殿宇華好。入，見螺髻莊嚴，金容滿月；瓶浸楊柳，翠碧垂煙。公肅然稽首，拜述帝君言。菩薩難之。公哀禱不已。旁有尊者白言：「菩薩施大法力，撮土可以為肉，折柳可以為骨。」菩薩即如所請，手斷柳枝，傾瓶中水，合淨土為泥，拍附公體。使童子攜送靈所，推而合之。棺中呻動，霍然病已。家人駭然集，扶而出之，計氣絕已斷七矣。

CLI. FÊNGSHUI.

AT Ichow there lived a high official named Sung, whose family were all ardent supporters of FêngShui; so much so, that even the womenfolk read books on the subject, and understood the principles of the science. When Mr. Sung died, his two sons set up separate establishments, and each invited to his own house geomancers from far and near, who had any reputation in their art, to select a spot for the dead man’s grave. By degrees, they had collected together as many as a hundred apiece, and every day they would scour the country round, each at the head of his own particular regiment. After about a month of this work, both sides had fixed upon a suitable position for the grave; and the geomancers engaged by one brother, declared that if their spot was selected he would certainly some day be made a marquis, while the other brother was similarly informed, by his geomancers, that by adopting their choice he would infallibly rise to the rank of Secretary of State. Thus, neither brother would give way to the other, but each set about making the grave in his own particular place,—pitching marquees, and arranging banners, and making all necessary preparations for the funeral. Then when the coffin arrived at the point where roads branched off to the two graves, the two brothers, each leading on his own little army of geomancers, bore down upon it with a view to gaining possession of the corpse. From morn till dewy eve the battle raged; and as neither gained any advantage over the other, the mourners and friends, who had come to witness the ceremony of burial, stole away one by one; and the coolies, who were carrying the coffin, after changing the poles from one shoulder to another until they were quite worn out, put the body down by the roadside, and went off home. It then became necessary to make some protection for the coffin against the wind and rain; whereupon the elder brother immediately set about building a hut close by, in which he purposed leaving some of his attendants to keep guard; but he had no sooner begun than the younger brother followed his example; and when the elder built a second and third, the younger also built a second and third; and as this went on for the space of three whole years, by the end of that time the place had become quite a little village. By-and-by, both brothers died, one directly after the other; and then their two wives determined to cast to the winds the decision of each party of geomancers. Accordingly, they went together to the two spots in question; and after inspecting them carefully, declared that neither was suitable. The next step was to jointly engage another set of geomancers, who submitted for their approval several different spots, and ten days had hardly passed away before the two women had agreed upon the position for their father-in-law’s grave, which, as the wife of the younger brother prophesied, would surely give to the family a high military degree. So the body was buried, and within three years Mr. Sung’s eldest grandson, who had entered as a military cadet, actually took the corresponding degree to a literary master of arts.

[“FêngShui,” adds the great commentator I Shihshih, “may or may not be based upon sound principles; at any rate, to indulge a morbid belief in it is utter folly; and thus to join issue and fight while a coffin is relegated to the roadside, is hardly in accordance with the doctrines of filial piety or fraternal love. Can people believe that mere position will improve the fortunes of their family? At any rate, that two women should have thus quietly settled the matter is certainly worthy of record.”]

堪輿

　　沂州宋侍郎君楚家，素尚堪輿；即閨閣中亦能讀其書，解其理。宋公卒，兩公子各立門戶，為父卜兆。聞有善青烏之術者，不憚千里，爭羅致之。於是兩門術士，召致盈百；日日連騎遍郊野，東西分道出入，如兩旅。經月餘，各得牛眠地，此言封侯，彼云拜相。兄弟兩不相下，因負氣不為謀，並營壽域，錦棚綵幢，兩處俱備。靈輿至歧路，兄弟各率其屬以爭，自晨至於日昃，不能決。賓客盡引去。舁夫凡十易肩，困憊不舉，相與委柩路側。因止不葬，鳩工構廬，以蔽風雨。兄建舍於傍，留役居守，弟亦建舍如兄，兄再建之，弟又建之：三年而成村焉。

　　積多年，兄弟繼逝；嫂與娣始合謀，力破前人水火之議，並車入野，視所擇兩地，並言不佳，遂同修聘贄，請術人另相之。每得一地，必具圖呈閨闥，判其可否。日進數圖，悉疵摘之。旬餘，始卜一域。嫂覽圖，喜曰：「可矣。」示娣。娣曰：「是地當先發一武孝廉。」葬後三年，公長孫果以武庠領鄉薦。

　　異史氏曰：「青烏之術，或有其理；而癖而信之，則癡矣。況負氣相爭，委柩路側，其於孝弟之道不講，奈何冀以地理福兒孫哉！如閨中宛若，真雅而可傳者矣。」

CLII. THE LINGERING DEATH.

THERE was a man in our village who led an exceedingly disreputable life. One morning when he got up rather early, two men appeared, and led him away to the marketplace, where he saw a butcher hanging up half a pig. As they approached, the two men shoved him with all their might against the dead animal, and lo! his own flesh began to blend with the pork before him, while his conductors hurried off in an opposite direction. By-and-by the butcher wanted to sell a piece of his meat; and seizing a knife, began to cut off the quantity required. At every touch of the blade our disreputable friend experienced a severe pang, which penetrated into his very marrow; and when, at length, an old man came and haggled over the weight given him, crying out for a little bit more fat, or an extra portion of lean, then, as the butcher sliced away the pork ounce by ounce, the pain was unendurable in the extreme. By about nine o’clock the pork was all sold, and our hero went home, whereupon his family asked him what he meant by staying in bed so late. He then narrated all that had taken place, and on making inquiries, they found that the pork butcher had only just come home; besides which our friend was able to tell him every pound of meat he had sold, and every slice he had cut off. Fancy a man being put to the lingering death like this before breakfast!

邑人

　　邑有鄉人，素無賴。一日，晨起，有二人攝之去。至市頭，見屠人以半豬懸架上，二人便極力推擠之，忽覺身與肉合，二人亦逕去。少間，屠人賣肉，操刀斷割，遂覺一刀一痛，徹於骨髓。後有鄰翁來市肉，苦爭低昂，添脂搭肉，片片碎割，其苦更慘。肉盡，乃尋途歸；歸時，日已向辰。家人謂其晏起，乃細述所遭。呼鄰問之，則市肉方歸，言其片數、斤數，毫髮不爽。崇朝之間，已受凌遲一度，不亦奇哉！

CLIII. DREAMING HONOURS.

WANG TZŬNGAN was a Tungch‘ang man, and a scholar of some repute, but unfortunate at the public examinations. On one occasion, after having been up for his master’s degree, his anxiety was very great; and when the time for the publication of the list drew near, he drank himself gloriously tipsy, and went and lay down on the bed. In a few moments a man rushed in, and cried out, “Sir! you have passed!” whereupon Wang jumped up, and said, “Give him ten strings of cash.” Wang’s wife, seeing he was drunk, and wishing to keep him quiet, replied, “You go on sleeping: I’ve given him the money.” So Wang lay down again, but before long in came another man who informed Wang that his name was among the successful candidates for the highest degree. “Why, I haven’t been up for it yet;” said Wang, “how can I have passed?” “What! you don’t mean to say you have forgotten the examination?” answered the man; and then Wang got up once more, and gave orders to present the informant with ten strings of cash. “All right,” replied his wife; “you go on sleeping: I’ve given him the money.” Another short interval, and in burst a third messenger to say that Wang had been elected a member of the National Academy, and that two official servants had come to escort him thither. Sure enough there were the two servants bowing at the bedside, and accordingly Wang directed that they should be served with wine and meat, which his wife, smiling at his drunken nonsense, declared had been already done. Wang now bethought him that he should go out and receive the congratulations of the neighbours, and roared out several times to his official servants; but without receiving any answer. “Go to sleep,” said his wife, “and wait till I have fetched them;” and after a while the servants actually came in; whereupon Wang stamped and swore at them for being such idiots as to go away. “What! you wretched scoundrel,” cried the servants, “are you cursing us in earnest, when we are only joking with you!” At this Wang’s rage knew no bounds, and he set upon the men, and gave them a sound beating, knocking the hat of one off on to the ground. In the mêlée, he himself tumbled over, and his wife ran in to pick him up, saying, “Shame upon you, for getting so drunk as this!” “I was only punishing the servants as they deserved,” replied Wang; “why do you call me drunk?” “Do you mean the old woman who cooks our rice and boils the water for your footbath,” asked his wife, smiling, “that you talk of servants to wait upon your poverty-stricken carcase?” At this sally all the women burst out in a roar of laughter; and Wang, who was just beginning to get sober, waked up as if from a dream, and knew that there was no reality in all that had taken place. However, he recollected the spot where the servant’s hat had fallen off, and on going thither to look for it, lo! he beheld a tiny official hat, no larger than a winecup, lying there behind the door. They were all much astonished at this, and Wang himself cried out, “Formerly people were thus tricked by devils; and now foxes are playing the fool with me!”

王子安

　　王子安，東昌名士，困於場屋。入闈後，期望甚切。近放榜時，痛飲大醉，歸臥內室。忽有人白：「報馬來。」王踉蹌起曰：「賞錢十千！」家人因其醉，誑而安之曰：「但請睡，已賞矣。」王乃眠。俄又有入者曰：「汝中進士矣！」王自言：「尚未赴都，何得及第？」其人曰：「汝忘之耶？三場畢矣。」王大喜，起而呼曰：「賞錢十千！」家人又誑之如前。又移時，一人急入曰「汝殿試翰林，長班在此。」果見二人拜床下，衣冠修潔。王呼賜酒食，家人又紿之，暗笑其醉而已。久之，王自念不可不出耀鄉里。大呼長班，凡數十呼，無應者。家人笑曰：「暫臥候，尋他去。」又久之，長班果復來。王搥床頓足，大罵：「鈍奴焉往！」長班怒曰：「措大無賴！向與爾戲耳，而真罵耶？」王怒，驟起撲之，落其帽。王亦傾跌。妻入，扶之曰：「何醉至此！」王曰：「長班可惡，我故懲之，何醉也？」妻笑曰：「家中止有一媼，晝為汝炊，夜為汝溫足耳。何處長班，伺汝窮骨？」子女皆笑。王醉亦稍解，忽如夢醒，始知前此之妄。然猶記長班帽落；尋至門後，得一纓帽如盞大，共疑之。自笑曰：「昔人為鬼揶揄，吾今為狐奚落矣。」

　　異史氏曰：「秀才入闈，有七似焉：初入時，白足提籃，似丐。唱名時，官呵隸罵，似囚。其歸號舍也，孔孔伸頭，房房露腳，似秋末之冷蜂。其出場也，神情惝怳，天地異色，似出籠之病鳥。迨望報也，草木皆驚，夢想亦幻。時作一得志想，則頃刻而樓閣俱成；作一失志想，則瞬息而骸骨已朽。此際行坐難安，則似被縶之猱。忽然而飛騎傳人，報條無我，此時神色猝變，嗒然若死，則似餌毒之蠅，弄之亦不覺也。初失志，心灰意敗，大罵司衡無目，筆墨無靈，勢必舉案頭物而盡炬之；炬之不已，而碎踏之；踏之不已，而投之濁流。從此披髮入山，面向石壁，再有以且夫、嘗謂之文進我者，定當操戈逐之。無何，日漸遠，氣漸平，技又漸癢；遂似破卵之鳩，只得啣木營巢，從新另抱矣。如此情況，當局者痛哭欲死；而自旁觀者視之，其可笑孰甚焉。王子安方寸之中，頃刻萬緒，想鬼狐竊笑已久，故乘其醉而玩弄之。床頭人醒，寧不啞然失笑哉？顧得志之況味，不過須臾；詞林諸公，不過經兩三須臾耳，子安一朝而盡嘗之，則狐之恩與薦師等。」

CLIV. THE SHEWOLF AND THE HERDBOYS.

TWO herd boys went up among the hills and found a wolf’s lair with two little wolves in it. Seizing each of them one, they forthwith climbed two trees which stood there, at a distance of forty or fifty paces apart. Before long the old wolf came back, and, finding her cubs gone, was in a great state of distress. Just then, one of the herd boys pinched his cub and made it squeak; whereupon the mother ran angrily towards the tree whence the sound proceeded, and tried to climb up it. At this juncture, the boy in the other tree pinched the other cub, and thereby diverted the wolf’s attention in that direction. But no sooner had she reached the foot of the second tree, than the boy who had first pinched his cub did so again, and away ran the old wolf back to the tree in which her other young one was. Thus they went on time after time, until the mother was dead tired, and lay down exhausted on the ground. Then, when after some time she shewed no signs of moving, the herd boys crept stealthily down, and found that the wolf was already stiff and cold. And truly, it is better to meet a blustering foe with his hand upon his sword hilt, by retiring within doors, and leaving him to fret his violence away unopposed; for such is but the behaviour of brute beasts, of which men thus take advantage.

牧豎

　　兩牧豎入山至狼穴，穴有小狼二，謀分捉之。各登一樹，相去數十步。少頃，大狼至，入穴失子，意甚倉皇。豎於樹上扭小狼蹄耳故令嗥；大狼聞聲仰視，怒奔樹下，號且爬抓。其一豎又在彼樹致小狼鳴急；狼輟聲四顧，始望見之，乃舍此趨彼，跑號如前狀。前樹又鳴，又轉奔之。口無停聲，足無停趾，數十往復，奔漸遲，聲漸弱；既而奄奄僵臥，久之不動。豎下視之，氣已絕矣。今有豪強子，怒目按劍，若將搏噬；為所怒者，乃闔扇去。豪力盡聲嘶，更無敵者，豈不暢然自雄？不知此禽獸之威，人故弄之以為戲耳。

CLV. ADULTERATION PUNISHED.

AT Chinling there lived a seller of spirits, who was in the habit of adulterating his liquor with water and a certain drug, the effect of which was that even a few cups would make the strongest headed man as drunk as a jellyfish. Thus his shop acquired a reputation for having a good article on sale, and by degrees he became a rich man. One morning, on getting up, he found a fox lying drunk alongside of the spirit vat; and tying its legs together, he was about to fetch a knife, when suddenly the fox waked up, and began pleading for its life, promising in return to do anything the spirit merchant might require. The latter then released the animal, which instantly changed into the form of a human being. Now, at that very time, the wife of a neighbour was suffering under fox influence, and this recently transformed animal confessed to the spirit merchant that it was he who had been troubling her. Thereupon the spirit merchant, who knew the lady in question to be a celebrated beauty, begged his fox friend to secretly introduce him to her. After raising some objections, the fox at length consented, and conducted the spirit merchant to a cave, where he gave him a suit of serge clothes, which he said had belonged to his late brother, and in which he told him he could easily go. The merchant put them on, and returned home, when to his great delight he observed that no one could see him, but that if he changed into his ordinary clothes everybody could see him as before. Accordingly he set off with the fox for his neighbour’s house; and, when they arrived, the first thing they beheld was a charm on the wall, like a great wriggling dragon. At this the fox was greatly alarmed, and said, “That scoundrel of a priest! I can’t go any farther.” He then ran off home, leaving the spirit merchant to proceed by himself. The latter walked quietly in to find that the dragon on the wall was a real one, and preparing to fly at him, so he too turned, and ran away as fast as his legs could carry him. The fact was that the family had engaged a priest to drive away the fox influence; and he, not being able to go at the moment himself, gave them this charm to stick up on the wall. The following day the priest himself came, and, arranging an altar, proceeded to exorcise the fox. All the villagers crowded round to see, and among others was the spirit merchant, who, in the middle of the ceremony, suddenly changed colour, and hurried out of the front door, where he fell on the ground in the shape of a fox, having his clothes still hanging about his arms and legs. The bystanders would have killed him on the spot, but his wife begged them to spare him; and the priest let her take the fox home, where in a few days it died.

金陵乙

　　金陵賣酒人某乙，每釀成，投水而置毒焉；即善飲者，不過數盞，便醉如泥。以此得「中山」之名，富致巨金。早起，見一狐醉臥槽邊，縛其四肢。方將覓刃，狐已醒，哀曰：「勿見害，諸如所求。」遂釋之，輾轉已化為人。時巷中孫氏，其長婦患狐為祟，因問之，答云：「是即我也。」乙窺婦娣尤美，求狐攜往。狐難之。乙固求之。狐邀乙去，入一洞中，取褐衣授之，曰：「此先兄所遺，著之當可去。」既服而歸，家人皆不之見；襲常衣而出，始見之。大喜，與狐同詣孫氏家。見牆上貼巨符，畫蜿蜒如龍。狐懼曰：「和尚大惡，我不往矣！」遂去。乙逡巡近之，則真龍盤壁上，昂首欲飛。大懼亦出。蓋孫覓一異域僧，為之厭勝，授符先歸，僧猶未至也。次日，僧來，設壇作法。鄰人共觀之，乙亦雜處其中。忽變色急奔，狀如被捉；至門外，踣地化為狐，四體猶著人衣。將殺之。妻子叩請。僧命牽去，日給飲食，數月尋斃。

CLVI. A CHINESE SOLOMON.

IN our district there lived two men, named Hu Ch‘êng and Fêng Ngan, between whom there existed an old feud. The former, however, was the stronger of the two; and accordingly Fêng disguised his feelings under a specious appearance of friendship, though Hu never placed much faith in his professions. One day they were drinking together, and being both of them rather the worse for liquor, they began to brag of the various exploits they had achieved. “What care I for poverty,” cried Hu, “when I can lay a hundred ounces of silver on the table at a moment’s notice?” Now Fêng was well aware of the state of Hu’s affairs, and did not hesitate to scout such pretensions, until Hu further informed him in perfect seriousness that the day before he had met a merchant travelling with a large sum of money and had tumbled him down a dry well by the wayside; in confirmation of which he produced several hundred ounces of silver, which really belonged to a brother-in-law on whose behalf he was managing some negotiation for the purchase of land. When they separated, Fêng went off and gave information to the magistrate of the place, who summoned Hu to answer to the charge. Hu then told the actual facts of the case, and his brother-in-law and the owner of the land in question corroborated his statement. However, on examining the dry well by letting a man down with a rope round him, lo! there was a headless corpse lying at the bottom. Hu was horrified at this, and called Heaven to witness that he was innocent; whereupon the magistrate ordered him twenty or thirty blows on the mouth for lying in the presence of such irrefragable proof, and cast him into the condemned cell, where he lay loaded with chains. Orders were issued that the corpse was not to be removed, and a notification was made to the people, calling upon the relatives of the deceased to come forward and claim the body. Next day a woman appeared, and said deceased was her husband; that his name was Ho, and that he was proceeding on business with a large sum of money about him when he was killed by Hu. The magistrate observed that possibly the body in the well might not be that of her husband, to which the woman replied that she felt sure it was; and accordingly the corpse was brought up and examined, when the woman’s story was found to be correct. She herself did not go near the body, but stood at a little distance making the most doleful lamentations; until at length the magistrate said, “We have got the murderer, but the body is not complete; you go home and wait until the head has been discovered, when life shall be given for life.” He then summoned Hu before him, and told him to produce the head by the next day under penalty of severe torture; but Hu only wandered about with the guard sent in charge of him, crying and lamenting his fate, but finding nothing. The instruments of torture were then produced, and preparations were made as if for torturing Hu; however, they were not applied, and finally the magistrate sent him back to prison, saying, “I suppose that in your hurry you didn’t notice where you dropped the head.” The woman was then brought before him again; and on learning that her relatives consisted only of one uncle, the magistrate remarked, “A young woman like you, left alone in the world, will hardly be able to earn a livelihood. [Here she burst into tears and implored the magistrate’s pity.] The punishment of the guilty man has been already decided upon, but until we get the head, the case cannot be closed. As soon as it is closed, the best thing you can do is to marry again. A young woman like yourself should not be in and out of a police court.” The woman thanked the magistrate and retired; and the latter issued a notice to the people, calling upon them to make a search for the head. On the following day, a man named Wang, a fellow villager of the deceased, reported that he had found the missing head; and his report proving to be true, he was rewarded with 1,000 cash. The magistrate now summoned the woman’s uncle abovementioned, and told him that the case was complete, but that as it involved such an important matter as the life of a human being, there would necessarily be some delay in closing it for good and all. “Meanwhile,” added the magistrate, “your niece is a young woman and has no children; persuade her to marry again and so keep herself out of these troubles, and never mind what people may say.” The uncle at first refused to do this; upon which the magistrate was obliged to threaten him until he was ultimately forced to consent. At this, the woman appeared before the magistrate to thank him for what he had done; whereupon the latter gave out that any person who was willing to take the woman to wife was to present himself at his yamên. Immediately afterwards an application was made—by the very man who had found the head. The magistrate then sent for the woman and asked her if she could say who was the real murderer; to which she replied that Hu Chêng had done the deed. “No!” cried the magistrate; “it was not he. It was you and this man here. [Here both began loudly to protest their innocence.] I have long known this; but, fearing to leave the smallest loophole for escape, I have tarried thus long in elucidating the circumstances. How [to the woman], before the corpse was removed from the well, were you so certain that it was your husband’s body? Because you already knew he was dead. And does a trader who has several hundred ounces of silver about him dress as shabbily as your husband was dressed? And you, [to the man], how did you manage to find the head so readily? Because you were in a hurry to marry the woman.” The two culprits stood there as pale as death, unable to utter a word in their defence; and on the application of torture both confessed the crime. For this man, the woman’s paramour, had killed her husband, curiously enough, about the time of Hu Chêng’s braggart joke. Hu was accordingly released, but Fêng suffered the penalty of a false accuser; he was severely bambooed, and banished for three years. The case was thus brought to a close without the wrongful punishment of a single person.

折獄

　　邑之西崖莊，有賈某被人殺於途；隔夜，其妻亦自經死。賈弟鳴於官。時浙江費公禕祉令淄，親詣驗之。見布袱裹銀五錢餘，尚在腰中，知非為財也者。拘兩村鄰保審質一過，殊少端緒，並未搒掠，釋散歸農；但命地約細察，十日一關白而已。踰半年，事漸懈。賈弟怨公仁柔，上堂屢聒。公怒曰：「汝既不能指名，欲我以桎梏加良民耶！」呵逐而出。賈弟無所伸訴，憤葬兄嫂。一日，以逋賦故，逮數人至。內一人周成，懼責，上言錢糧措辦已足，即於腰中出銀袱，稟公驗視。公驗已，便問：「汝家何里？」答云：「某村。」又問：「去西崖幾里？」答云：「五六里。」「去年被殺賈某，係汝何人？」答云：「不識其人。」公勃然曰：「汝殺之，尚云不識耶！」周力辨，不聽；嚴梏之，果伏其罪。先是，賈妻王氏，將詣姻家，慚無釵飾，聒夫使假於鄰。夫不肯；妻自假之，頗甚珍重。歸途，卸而裹諸袱，內袖中；既至家，探之已亡。不敢告夫，又無力償鄰，懊惱欲死。是日，周適拾之，知為賈妻所遺，窺賈他出，半夜踰牆，將執以求合。時溽暑，王氏臥庭中，周潛就淫之。王氏覺，大號。周急止之，留袱納釵。事已，婦囑曰：「後勿來，吾家男子惡，犯恐俱死！」周怒曰：「我挾勾欄數宿之貲，寧一度可償耶？」婦慰之曰：「我非不願相交，渠常善病，不如從容以待其死。」周乃去，於是殺賈，夜詣婦曰：「今某已被人殺，請如所約。」婦聞大哭，周懼而逃，天明則婦死矣。公廉得情，以周抵罪。共服其神，而不知所以能察之故。公曰：「事無難辦，要在隨處留心耳。初驗尸時，見銀袱刺萬字文，周袱亦然，是出一手也。及詰之，又云無舊，詞貌詭變，是以確知其真凶也。」

　　異史氏曰：「世之折獄者，非悠悠置之，則縲繫數十人而狼藉之耳。堂上肉鼓吹，喧闐旁午，遂嚬蹙曰：『我勞心民事也。』雲板三敲，則聲色並進，難決之詞，不復置念；耑待升堂時，禍桑樹以烹老龜耳。嗚呼！民情何由得哉！余每曰：『智者不必仁，而仁者則必智；蓋用心苦則機關出也。』『隨在留心』之言，可以教天下之宰民社者矣。」

　　邑人胡成，與馮安同里，世有卻。胡父子強，馮屈意交懽，胡終猜之。一日，共飲薄醉，頗傾肝膽。胡大言：「勿憂貧，百金之產不難致也。」馮以其家不豐，故嗤之。胡正色曰：「實相告：昨途遇大商，載厚裝來，我顛越於南山眢井 中矣。馮又笑之。時胡有妹夫鄭倫，託為說合田產，寄數百金於胡家，遂盡出以炫馮。馮信之。既散，陰以狀報邑。公拘胡對勘，胡言其實，問鄭及產主皆不訛。乃共驗諸眢井。一役縋下，則果有無首之尸在焉。胡大駭，莫可置辨，但稱冤苦。公怒，擊喙數十，曰：「確有證據，尚叫屈耶！」以死囚具禁制之。尸戒勿出，惟曉示諸村，使尸主投狀。逾日，有婦人抱狀，自言為亡者妻，言：「夫何甲，揭數百金出作貿易，被胡殺死。」公曰：「井有死人，恐未必即是汝夫。」婦執言甚堅。公乃命出尸於井，視之，果不妄。婦不敢近，卻立而號。公曰：「真犯已得，但骸軀未全。汝暫歸，待得死者首，即招報令其抵償。」遂自獄中喚胡出，呵曰：「明日不將頭至，當械折股！」押去終日而返，詰之，但有號泣。乃以梏具置前作刑勢，卻又不刑，曰：「想汝當夜扛尸忙迫，不知墜落何處，奈何不細尋之？」胡哀祈容急覓。公乃問婦：「子女幾何？」答曰：「無。」問：「甲有何戚屬？」「但有堂叔一人。」慨然曰：「少年喪夫，伶仃如此，其何以為生矣！」婦乃哭，叩求憐憫。公曰：「殺人之罪已定，但得全尸，此案即結；結案後，速醮可也。汝少婦，勿復出入公門。」婦感泣，叩頭而下。公即票示里人，代覓其首。經宿，即有同村王五，報稱已獲。問驗既明，賞以千錢。喚甲叔至，曰：「大案已成；然人命重大，非積歲不能成結。姪既無出，少婦亦難存活，早令適人。此後亦無他務，但有上臺檢駁，止須汝應身耳。」甲叔不肯，飛兩籤下；再辯，又一籤下。甲叔懼，應之而出。婦聞，詣謝公恩。公極意慰諭之。又諭：「有買婦者，當堂關白。」既下，即有投婚狀者，蓋即報人頭之王五也。公喚婦上，曰：「殺人之真犯，汝知之乎？」答曰：「胡成。」公曰：「非也。汝與王五乃真犯耳。」二人大駭，力辨冤枉。公曰：「我久知其情，所以遲遲而發者，恐有萬一之屈耳。尸未出井，何以確信為汝夫？蓋先知其死矣。且甲死猶衣敗絮，數百金何所自來？」又謂王五曰：「頭之所在，汝何知之熟也！所以如此其急者，意在速合耳。」兩人驚顏如土，不能強置一詞。並械之，果吐其實。蓋王五與婦私已久，謀殺其夫，而適值胡成之戲也。乃釋胡。馮以誣告，重笞，徒三年。事結，並未妄刑一人。

CLVII. THE ROC.

TWO herons built their nests under one of the ornaments on the roof of a temple at Tientsin. The accumulated dust of years in the shrine below concealed a huge serpent, having the diameter of a washing basin; and whenever the heron’s young were ready to fly, the reptile proceeded to the nest and swallowed every one of them, to the great distress of the bereaved parents. This took place three years consecutively, and people thought the birds would build there no more. However, the following year they came again; and when the time was drawing nigh for their young ones to take wing, away they flew, and remained absent for nearly three days. On their return, they went straight to the nest, and began amidst much noisy chattering to feed their young ones as usual. Just then the serpent crawled up to reach his prey; and as he was nearing the nest the parent birds flew out and screamed loudly in mid-air. Immediately, there was heard a mighty flapping of wings, and darkness came over the face of the earth, which the astonished spectators now perceived to be caused by a huge bird obscuring the light of the sun. Down it swooped with the speed of wind or falling rain, and, striking the serpent with its talons, tore its head off at a blow, bringing down at the same time several feet of the masonry of the temple. Then it flew away, the herons accompanying it as though escorting a guest. The nest too had come down, and of the two young birds one was killed by the fall; the other was taken by the priests and put in the bell tower, whither the old birds returned to feed it until thoroughly fledged, when it spread its wings and was gone.

禽俠

　　天津某寺，鸛鳥巢於鴟尾。殿承塵上，藏大蛇如盆，每至鸛雛團翼時，輒出吞食淨盡。鸛悲鳴數日乃去。如是三年，人料其必不復至，而次歲巢如故。約雛長成，即徑去，三日始還。入巢啞啞，哺子如初。蛇又蜿蜒而上。甫近巢，兩鸛驚，飛鳴哀急，直上青冥。俄聞風聲蓬蓬，一瞬間，天地似晦。眾駭異，共視一大鳥，翼蔽天日，從空疾下，驟如風雨，以爪擊蛇，蛇首立墮，連催殿角數尺許，振翼而去。鸛從其後，若將送之。巢既傾，兩雛俱墮，一生一死。僧取生者置鐘樓上。少頃，鸛返，仍就哺之，翼成而去。

　　異史氏曰：「次年復至，蓋不料其禍之復也；三年而巢不移，則報仇之計已決；三日不返，其去作秦庭之哭，可知矣。大鳥必羽族之劍仙也，飆然而來，一擊而去，妙手空空兒何以加此？」

　　濟南有營卒，見鸛鳥過，射之，應弦而落。喙中啣魚，將哺子也。或勸拔矢放之，卒不聽。少頃，帶矢飛去。後往來郭間，兩年餘，貫矢如故。一日，卒坐轅門下，鸛過，矢墜地。卒拾視曰：「矢固無恙耶？」耳適癢，因以矢搔耳。忽大風催門，門驟闔，觸矢貫腦而死。

CLVIII. THE FAITHFUL GANDER.

A SPORTSMAN of Tientsin, having snared a wild goose, was followed to his home by the gander, which flew round and round him in great distress, and only went away at nightfall. Next day, when the sportsman went out, there was the bird again; and at length it alighted quite close to his feet. He was on the point of seizing it when suddenly it stretched out its neck and disgorged a piece of pure gold; whereupon, the sportsman, understanding what the bird meant, cried out, “I see! this is to ransom your mate, eh?” Accordingly, he at once released the goose, and the two birds flew away with many expressions of their mutual joy, leaving to the sportsman nearly three ounces of pure gold. Can, then, mere birds have such feelings as these? Of all sorrows there is no sorrow like separation from those we love; and it seems that the same holds good even of dumb animals.

鴻

　　天津弋人得一鴻。其雄者隨至其家，哀鳴翱翔，抵暮始去。次日，弋人早出，則鴻已至，飛號從之；既而集其足下。弋人將並捉之。見其伸頸俛仰，吐出黃金半鋌。弋人悟其意，乃曰：「是將以贖婦也。」遂釋雌。兩鴻徘徊，若有悲喜，遂雙飛而去。弋人稱金，得二兩六錢強。噫！禽鳥何知，而鍾情若此！悲莫悲於生別離，物亦然耶？

CLIX. THE ELEPHANTS AND THE LION.

A HUNTSMAN of Kuangsi, who was out on the hills with his bow and arrows, lay down to rest awhile, and unwittingly fell fast asleep. As he was slumbering, an elephant came up, and, coiling his trunk around the man, carried him off. The latter gave himself up for dead; but before long the elephant had deposited him at the foot of a tall tree, and had summoned a whole herd of comrades, who crowded about the huntsman as though asking his assistance. The elephant who had brought him went and lay down under the tree, and first looked up into its branches and then looked down at the man, apparently requesting him to get up into the tree. So the latter jumped on the elephant’s back and then clambered up to the topmost branch, not knowing what he was expected to do next. By-and-by a lion arrived, and from among the frightened herd chose out a fat elephant, which he seemed as though about to devour. The others remained there trembling, not daring to run away, but looking wistfully up into the tree. Thereupon the huntsman drew an arrow from his quiver and shot the lion dead, at which all the elephants below made him a grateful obeisance. He then descended, when the elephant lay down again and invited him to mount by pulling at his clothes with its trunk. This he did, and was carried to a place where the animal scratched the ground with its foot, and revealed to him a vast number of old tusks. He jumped down and collected them in a bundle, after which the elephant conveyed him to a spot whence he easily found his way home.

象

　　粵中有獵獸者，挾矢如山。偶臥憩息，不覺沉睡，被象來鼻攝而去。自分必遭殘害。未幾，釋置樹下，頓首一鳴，群象紛至，四面旋繞，若有所求。前象伏樹下，仰視樹而俯視人，似欲其登。獵者會意，即足踏象背，攀援而升。雖至樹巔，亦不知其意向所存。少時，有狻猊來，眾象皆伏。狻猊擇一肥者，意將搏噬。象戰慄，無敢逃者，惟共仰樹上，似求憐拯。獵者會意，因望狻猊發一弩，狻猊立殪。諸象瞻空，意若拜舞。獵者乃下。象復伏，以鼻牽衣，似欲其乘。獵者隨跨身其上，象乃行。至一處，以蹄穴地，得脫牙無算。獵人下，束治置象背。象乃負送出山，始返。

CLX. THE HIDDEN TREASURE.

LI YÜEHSHÊNG was the second son of a rich old man who used to bury his money, and who was known to his fellow townsmen as “Old Crocks.” One day the father fell sick, and summoned his sons to divide the property between them. He gave four fifths to the elder and only one fifth to the younger, saying to the latter, “It is not that I love your brother more than I love you: I have other money stored away, and when you are alone I will hand that over to you.” A few days afterwards the old man grew worse, and Yüehshêng, afraid that his father might die at any moment, seized an opportunity of seeing him alone to ask about the money that he himself was to receive. “Ah,” replied the dying man, “the sum of our joys and of our sorrows is determined by fate. You are now happy in the possession of a virtuous wife, and have no right to an increase of wealth.” For, as a matter of fact, this second son was married to a lady from the Ch‘ê family whose virtue equalled that of any of the heroines of history: hence his father’s remark. Yüehshêng, however, was not satisfied, and implored to be allowed to have the money; and at length the old man got angry and said, “You are only just turned twenty; you have known none of the trials of life, and were I to give a thousand ounces of gold, it would soon be all spent. Go! and, until you have drunk the cup of bitterness to its dregs, expect no money from me.” Now Yüehshêng was a filial son, and when his father spoke thus he did not venture to say any more, and hoped for his speedy recovery that he might have a chance of coaxing him to comply with his request. But the old man got worse and worse, and at length died; whereupon the elder brother took no trouble about the funeral ceremonies, leaving it all to the younger, who, being an openhanded fellow, made no difficulties about the expense. The latter was also fond of seeing a great deal of company at his house, and his wife often had to get three or four meals a day ready for guests; and, as her husband did very little towards looking after his affairs, and was further sponged upon by all the needy ones of the neighbourhood, they were soon reduced to a state of poverty. The elder brother helped them to keep body and soul together, but he died shortly afterwards, and this resource was cut off from them. Then, by dint of borrowing in the spring and repaying in the autumn, they still managed to exist, until at last it came to parting with their land, and they were left actually destitute. At that juncture their eldest son died, followed soon after by his mother; and Yüehshêng was left almost by himself in the world. He now married the widow of a sheep dealer, who had a little capital; and she was very strict with him, and wouldn’t let him waste time and money with his friends. One night his father appeared to him and said, “My son, you have drained your cup of bitterness to the dregs. You shall now have the money. I will bring it to you.” When Yüehshêng woke up, he thought it was merely a poor man’s dream; but the next day, while laying the foundations of a wall, he did come upon a quantity of gold. And then he knew what his father had meant by “when you are alone;” for of those about him at that time, more than half were gone.

李八缸

　　太學李月生，升宇翁之次子也。翁最富，以缸貯金，里人稱之「八缸」。翁寢疾，呼子分金：兄八之，弟二之。月生觖望。翁曰：「我非偏有愛憎，藏有窖鏹，必待無多人時，方以畀汝，勿急也。」過數日，翁益彌留。月生慮一旦不虞，覷無人，即床頭祕訊之。翁曰：「人生苦樂，皆有定數。汝方享妻賢之福，故不宜再助多金，以增汝過。」蓋月生妻車氏，最賢，有桓、孟之德，故云。月生固哀之。怒曰：「汝尚有二十餘年坎壈未歷，即予千金，亦立盡耳。苟不至山窮水盡時，勿望給與也！」月生孝友敦篤，亦即不敢復言。無何，翁大漸，尋卒。幸兄賢，齋葬之謀，勿與校計。月生又天真爛漫，不較錙銖，且好客善飲，炊黍治具，日促妻三四作，不甚理家人生產。里中無賴窺其懦，輒魚肉之。踰數年，家漸落。窘急時，賴兄小周給，不至大困。無何，兄以老病卒，益失所助，至絕糧食。春貸秋償，田所出，登場輒盡。乃割畝為活，業益消減。又數年，妻及長子相繼殂謝，無聊益甚。尋買販羊者之妻徐，翼得其小阜；而徐性剛烈，日凌藉之，至不敢與親朋通弔慶禮。忽一夜夢父曰：「今汝所遭，可謂山窮水盡矣。嘗許汝窖金，今其可矣。」問：「何在？」曰：「明日畀汝。」醒而異之，猶謂是貧中之積想也。次日，發土葺墉，掘得巨金，始悟向言「無多人」，乃死亡將半也。

　　異史氏曰：「月生，余杵臼交，為人樸誠無偽。余兄弟與交，哀樂輒相共。數年來，村隔十餘里，老死竟不相聞。余偶過其居里，因亦不敢過問之。則月生之苦況，蓋有不可明言者矣。忽聞暴得千金，不覺為之鼓舞。嗚呼！翁臨終之治命，昔習聞之，而不意其言皆讖也。抑何其神哉！」

CLXI. THE BOATMEN OF LAOLUNG.

WHEN His Excellency Chu was Viceroy of Kuangtung, there were constant complaints from the traders of mysterious disappearances; sometimes as many as three or four of them disappearing at once and never being seen or heard of again. At length the number of such cases, filed of course against some person or persons unknown, multiplied to such an extent that they were simply put on record, and but little notice was further taken of them by the local officials. Thus, when His Excellency entered upon his duties, he found more than a hundred plaints of the kind, besides innumerable cases in which the missing man’s relatives lived at a distance and had not instituted proceedings. The mystery so preyed upon the new Viceroy’s mind that he lost all appetite for food; and when, finally, all the inquiries he had set on foot resulted in no clue to an elucidation of these strange disappearances, then His Excellency proceeded to wash and purify himself, and, having notified the Municipal God, he took to fasting and sleeping in his study alone. While he was in ecstasy, lo! an official entered, holding a tablet in his hand, and said that he had come from the Municipal temple with the following instructions to the Viceroy:—

“Snow on the whiskers descending:

Live clouds falling from heaven:

Wood in water buoyed up:

In the wall an opening effected.”

The official then retired, and the Viceroy waked up; but it was only after a night of tossing and turning that he hit upon what seemed to him the solution of the enigma. “The first line,” argued he, “must signify old (lao in Chinese); the second refers to the dragon (lung in Chinese); the third is clearly a boat; and the fourth a door here taken in its secondary sense—man.” Now, to the east of the province, not far from the pass by which traders from the north connect their line of trade with the southern seas, there was actually a ferry known as the Old Dragon (Laolung); and thither the Viceroy immediately despatched a force to arrest those employed in carrying people backwards and forwards. More than fifty men were caught, and they all confessed at once without the application of torture. In fact, they were bandits under the guise of boatmen; and after beguiling passengers on board, they would either drug them or burn stupefying incense until they were senseless, finally cutting them open and putting a large stone inside to make the body sink. Such was the horrible story, the discovery of which brought throngs to the Viceroy’s door to serenade him in terms of gratitude and praise.

老龍舡戶

　　朱公徽蔭巡撫粵東時，往來商旅，多告無頭冤狀。千里行人，死不見尸，數客同遊，全無音信，積案纍纍，莫可究詰。初告，有司尚發牒行緝；迨投狀既多，竟置不問。公蒞任，歷稽舊案，狀中稱死者不下百餘，其千里無主者，更不知凡幾。公駭異惻怛，籌思廢寢。遍訪僚屬，迄少方略。於是潔誠熏沐，致檄城隍之神。已而齋寢，恍惚見一官僚，搢笏而入。問：「何官？」答云：「城隍劉某。」「將何言？」曰：「鬢邊垂雪，天際生雲，水中漂木，壁上安門。」言已而退。既醒，隱謎不解。輾轉終宵，忽悟曰：「垂雪者，老也；生雲者，龍也；水上木為舡；壁上門為戶：豈非『老龍舡戶』耶！」蓋省之東北，曰小嶺、曰藍關，源自老龍津，以達南海，嶺外巨商，每由此入粵。公遣武弁，密授機謀，捉龍津駕舟者，次第擒獲五十餘名，皆不械而服。蓋此等賊以舟渡為名，賺客登舟，或投蒙藥，或燒悶香，致客沉迷不醒；而後剖腹納石，以沉水底。冤慘極矣！自昭雪後，遐邇懽騰，謠頌成集焉。

　　異史氏曰：「剖腹沉石，慘冤已甚，而木雕之有司，絕不少關痛癢豈特粵東之暗無天日哉！公至則鬼神效靈，覆盆俱照，何其異哉！然公非有四目兩口，不過痌瘝之念，積於中者至耳。彼巍巍然，出則刀戟橫路，入則蘭麝熏心，尊優雖至，究何異於老龍舡戶哉！」

CLXII. THE PIOUS SURGEON.

A CERTAIN veterinary surgeon, named Hou, was carrying food to his field labourers, when suddenly a whirlwind arose in his path. Hou seized a spoon and poured out a libation of gruel, whereupon the wind immediately dropped. On another occasion, he was wandering about the municipal temple when he noticed an image of Liu Ch‘üan presenting the melon, in whose eye was a great splotch of dirt. “Dear me, Sir Liu!” cried Hou, “who has been ill-using you like this?” He then scraped away the dirt with his fingernail, and passed on. Some years afterwards, as he was lying down very ill, two lictors walked in and carried him off to a yamên, where they insisted on his bribing them heavily. Hou was at his wits’ end what to do; but just at that moment a personage dressed in green robes came forth, who was greatly astonished at seeing him there, and asked what it all meant. Our hero at once explained; whereupon the man in green turned upon the lictors and abused them for not shewing proper respect to Mr. Hou. Meanwhile a drum sounded like the roll of thunder, and the man in green told Hou that it was for the morning session, and that he would have to attend. Leading Hou within he put him in his proper place, and, promising to inquire into the charge against him, went forward and whispered a few words to one of the clerks. “Oh,” said the latter, advancing and making a bow to the veterinary surgeon, “yours is a trifling matter. We shall merely have to confront you with a horse, and then you can go home again.” Shortly afterwards, Hou’s case was called; upon which he went forward and knelt down, as did also a horse which was prosecuting him. The judge now informed Hou that he was accused by the horse of having caused its death by medicines, and asked him if he pleaded guilty or not guilty. “My lord,” replied Hou, “the prosecutor was attacked by the cattle plague, for which I treated him accordingly; and he actually recovered from the disease, though he died on the following day. Am I to be held responsible for that?” The horse now proceeded to tell his story; and after the usual cross-examination and cries for justice, the judge gave orders to look up the horse’s term of life in the Book of Fate. Therein it appeared that the animal’s destiny had doomed it to death on the very day on which it had died; whereupon the judge cried out, “Your term of years had already expired; why bring this false charge? Away with you!” and turning to Hou, the judge added, “You are a worthy man, and may be permitted to live.” The lictors were accordingly instructed to escort him back, and with them went out both the clerk and the man in green clothes, who bade the lictors take every possible care of Hou by the way. “You gentlemen are very kind,” said Hou, “but I haven’t the honour of your acquaintance, and should be glad to know to whom I am so much indebted.” “Three years ago,” replied the man in green, “I was travelling in your neighbourhood, and was suffering very much from thirst, which you relieved for me by a few spoonfuls of gruel. I have not forgotten that act.” “And my name,” observed the other, “is Liu Ch‘üan. You once took a splotch of dirt out of my eye that was troubling me very much. I am only sorry that the wine and food we have down here is unsuitable to offer you. Farewell.” Hou now understood all that had happened, and went off home with the two lictors where he would have regaled them with some refreshment, but they refused to take even a cup of tea. He then waked up and found that he had been dead for two days. From this time forth he led a more virtuous life than ever, always pouring out libations to Liu Ch‘üan at all the festivals of the year. Thus he reached the age of eighty, a hale and hearty man, still able to sit in the saddle; until one day he met Liu Ch‘üan riding on horseback, as if about to make a long journey. After a little friendly conversation, the latter said to him, “Your time is up, and the warrant for your arrest is already issued; but I have ordered the constables to delay awhile, and you can now spend three days in preparing for death, at the expiration of which I will come and fetch you. I have purchased a small appointment for you in the realms below, by which you will be more comfortable.” So Hou went home and told his wife and children; and after collecting his friends and relatives, and making all necessary preparations, on the evening of the fourth day he cried out, “Liu Ch‘üan has come!” and, getting into his coffin, lay down and died.

劉全

　　鄒平牛醫侯某，荷飯餉耕者。至野，有風旋其前，侯即以杓掬漿祝奠之。盡數杓，風始去。一日適城隍廟，閒步廊下，見內塑劉全獻瓜 像，被鳥雀遺糞，糊蔽目睛。侯曰：「劉大哥何遂受此玷污！」因以爪甲為除去之。後數年，病臥，被二皂攝去。至官衙前，逼索財賄甚苦。侯方無所為計，忽自內一綠衣人出，見之訝曰：「侯翁何來？」侯便告訴。綠衣人責二皂曰：「此汝侯大爺，何得無禮！」二皂喏喏，遜謝不知。俄聞鼓聲如雷。綠衣人曰：「早衙矣。」遂與俱入，令立墀下，曰：「姑立此，我為汝問之。」遂上堂點手，招一吏人下，略道數語。吏人見侯拱手曰：「侯大哥來耶？汝亦無甚大事，有一馬相訟，一質便可復返。」遂別而去。少間，堂上呼侯名，侯上跪，一馬亦跪。官問侯：「馬言被汝藥死，有諸？」侯曰：「彼得瘟症，某以瘟方治之。既藥不瘳，隔日而死，與某何涉？」馬作人言，兩相苦。官命稽籍，籍註馬壽若干，應死於某年月日，數確符。因訶曰：「此汝天數已盡，何得妄控！」叱之而去。因謂侯曰：「汝存心方便，可以不死。」仍命二皂送回。前二人亦與俱出，又囑途中善相視。侯曰：「今日雖蒙覆庇，生平實未識荊。乞示姓字，以圖啣報。」綠衣人曰：「三年前，僕從泰山來，焦渴欲死。經君村外，蒙以杓漿見飲，至今不忘。」吏人曰：「某即劉全。曩被雀糞之污，悶不可耐，君手為滌除，是以耿耿。奈冥間酒饌，不可以奉賓客，請即別矣。」侯始悟，乃歸。既至家，款留二皂。皂並不敢飲其杯水。侯甦，蓋死已踰兩日矣。從此益修善。每逢節序，必以漿酒酧劉全。年八旬，尚強健，能超乘馳走。一日，途間見劉全騎馬來，若將遠行。拱手道溫涼畢，劉曰：「君數已盡，勾牒出矣。勾役欲相招，我禁使弗須。君可歸治後事，三日後，我來同君行。地下代買小缺，亦無苦也。」遂去。侯歸告妻子，招別戚友，棺衾俱備。第四日日暮，對眾曰：「劉大哥來矣。」入棺遂歿。

CLXIII. ANOTHER SOLOMON.

AT T‘aiyüan there lived a middle-aged woman with her widowed daughter-in-law. The former was on terms of too great intimacy with a notably bad character of the neighbourhood; and the latter, who objected very strongly to this, did her best to keep the man from the house. The elder woman accordingly tried to send the other back to her family, but she would not go; and at length things came to such a pass that the mother-in-law actually went to the mandarin of the place and charged her daughter-in-law with the offence she herself was committing. When the mandarin inquired the name of the man concerned, she said she had only seen him in the dark and didn’t know who he was, referring him for information to the accused. The latter, on being summoned, gave the man’s name, but retorted the charge on her mother-in-law; and when the man was confronted with them, he promptly declared both their stories to be false. The mandarin, however, said there was a primâ facie case against him, and ordered him to be severely beaten, whereupon he confessed that it was the daughter-in-law whom he went to visit. This the woman herself flatly denied, even under torture; and on being released, appealed to a higher court, with a very similar result. Thus the case dragged on, until a Mr. Sun, who was well-known for his judicial acumen, was appointed district magistrate at that place. Calling the parties before him, he bade his lictors prepare stones and knives, at which they were much exercised in their minds, the severest tortures allowed by law being merely gyves and fetters. However, everything was got ready, and the next day Mr. Sun proceeded with his investigation. After hearing all that each one of the three had to say, he delivered the following judgment:—“The case is a simple one; for although I cannot say which of you two women is the guilty one, there is no doubt about the man, who has evidently been the means of bringing discredit on a virtuous family. Take those stones and knives there and put him to death. I will be responsible.” Thereupon the two women began to stone the man, especially the younger one, who seized the biggest stones she could see and threw them at him with all the might of her pent up anger; while the mother-in-law chose small stones and struck him on non-vital parts. So with the knives: the daughter-in-law would have killed him at the first blow, had not the mandarin stopped her, and said, “Hold! I now know who is the guilty woman.” The mother-in-law was then tortured until she confessed, and the case was thus terminated.

太原獄

　　太原有民家，姑婦皆寡。姑中年，不能自潔，村無賴頻頻就之。婦不善其行，陰於門戶牆垣阻拒之。姑慚，借端出婦；婦不去，頗有勃谿。姑益恚，反相誣，告諸官。官問姦夫姓名。媼曰：「夜來宵去，實不知其阿誰，鞫 婦自知。」因喚婦。婦果知之，而以姦情歸媼，苦相抵。拘無賴至，又譁辨：「兩無所私。彼姑婦不相能，故妄言相詆毀耳。」官曰：「一村百人，何獨誣汝？」重笞之。無賴叩乞免責，自認與婦通。械婦，婦終不承。逐去之。婦忿告憲院，仍如前，久不決。時淄邑孫進士柳下令臨晉，推折獄才，遂下其案於臨晉。人犯到，公略訊一過，寄監訖，便命隸人備磚石刀錐，質明聽用。共疑曰：「嚴刑自有桎梏，何將以非刑折獄耶？」不解其意，姑備之。明日，升堂，問知諸具已備，命悉置堂上。乃喚犯者，又一一略鞫之。乃謂姑婦：「此事亦不必甚求清析。淫婦雖未定，而姦夫則確。汝家本清門，不過一時為匪人所誘，罪全在某。堂上刀石具在，可自取擊殺之。」姑婦趑趄，恐邂逅抵償。公曰：「無慮，有我在。」於是媼婦並起，掇石交投。婦啣恨已久，兩手舉巨石，恨不即立斃之；媼惟以小石擊臀腿而已。又命用刀。婦把刀貫胸膺，媼猶逡巡未下。公止之曰：「淫婦我知之矣。」命執媼嚴梏之，遂得其情。笞無賴三十，其案始結。

　　附記：公一日遣役催租，租戶他出，婦應之。役不得賄，拘婦至。公怒曰：「男子自有歸時，何得擾人家室！」遂笞役，遣婦去。乃命匠多備手械，以備敲比。明日，合邑傳頌公仁。欠賦者聞之，皆使妻出應，公盡拘而械之。余嘗謂：孫公才非所短；然如得其情，則喜而不暇哀矜矣。

CLXIV. THE INCORRUPT OFFICIAL.

MR. WU, Sub-prefect of Chinan, was an upright man, and would have no share in the bribery and corruption which was extensively carried on, and at which the higher authorities connived, and in the proceeds of which they actually shared. The Prefect tried to bully him into adopting a similar plan, and went so far as to abuse him in violent language; upon which Mr. Wu fired up and exclaimed, “Though I am but a subordinate official, you should impeach me for anything you have against me in the regular way; you have not the right to abuse me thus. Die I may, but I will never consent to degrade my office and turn aside the course of justice for the sake of filthy lucre.” At this outbreak the Prefect changed his tone, and tried to soothe him.... [How dare people accuse the age of being corrupt, when it is themselves who will not walk in the straight path.] One day after this a certain fox medium came to the Prefect’s yamên just as a feast was in full swing, and was thus addressed by a guest:—“You who pretend to know everything, say how many officials there are in this Prefecture.” “One,” replied the medium; at which the company laughed heartily, until the medium continued, “There are really seventy-two holders of office, but Mr. Sub-prefect Wu is the only one who can justly be called an official.”

一員官

　　濟南同知吳公，剛正不阿。時有陋規，凡貪墨者，虧空犯贓罪，上官輒庇之，以贓分攤屬僚，無敢梗者。以命公，不受；強之不得，怒加叱罵。公亦惡聲還報之，曰：「某官雖微？亦受君命。可以參處，不可以罵詈也！要死便死，不能損朝廷之祿，代人償枉法贓耳！」上官乃改顏溫慰之。人皆言斯世不可以行直道；人自無直道耳，何反咎斯世之不可行哉！會高苑有穆情懷者，狐附之，輒慷慨與人談論，音響在座上，但不見其人。適至郡，賓客談次，或詰之曰：「仙固無不知，請問郡中官共幾員？」應聲答曰：「一員。」共笑之。復詰其故，曰：「通郡官僚雖七十有二，其實可稱為官者，吳同知一人而已。」是時泰安知州張公，人以其木強，號之「橛子」。凡貴官大僚登岱者，夫馬兜輿之類，需索煩多，州民苦於供億。公一切罷之。或索羊豕，公曰：「我即一羊也，一豕也，請殺之以犒騶從。」大僚亦無奈之。公自遠宦，別妻子者十二年。初蒞泰安，夫人及公子自都中來省之，相見甚歡。逾六七日，夫人從容曰：「君塵甑猶昔，何老誖不念子孫耶？」公怒，大罵，呼杖，逼夫人伏受。公子覆母號泣，求代。公橫施撻楚，乃已。夫人即偕公子命駕歸，矢曰：「渠即死於是，吾亦不復來矣！」逾年，公卒。此不可謂非今之強項令也。然以久離之琴瑟，何至以一言而躁怒至此，豈人情哉！而威福能行於床笫，事更奇於鬼神矣。