Chinese Literature

of going to bed late, your mother would have hung herself dead by now !”

One wave had just subsided, and the next one swelled forward. With a cry, Chun-mei tottered, bumping into Li-ho’s torch and shaking loose a shower of sparks. Li-ho held her firmly as she stamped and wailed.

“Ma, Ma! What’s been happening to you!”

Li-ho knocked the ashes of his torch off against the side of a paddy terrace wall, then waved the torch vigorously to revive its flame.

“Tet’s go, Chun-mei! A boil must be lanced, an illness must be treated. Just crying won’t do any good.... Use your head a little. As sure as there’s a sky above, the people’s government won’t let a person be forced to suicide without getting to the bottom of the matter!”

This reminder shook Chun-mei back to her senses. She flew down the road towards her home. Li-ho, waving his torch, hurried after her. .

Chun-mei lived in a house that faced the fields, with its back to the street along which the village stretched, near the exit of the market grounds. The walls of the house were made of hard-packed earth. On either side of it, the villagers kept little vegetable gardens. There were also small fruit trees in the gardens and one tall shade tree that towered ten feet higher than the roof of the house. It was from this tree that Chun-mei’s mother had hung herself.

Li-ho’s torch burned out eyen before he and Chun-mei reached the market grounds exit. He tossed the stump away and hastened after his niece. The frosty grass crunching beneath their feet was slippery, making them slow their pace somewhat. Nearing the house, they heard voices coming from beneath the dark big tree.

“Hmph! Imagine a woman as old as that having an affair!’ someone was saying in a squeaky falsetto.

Li-ho was very annoyed. “Glib Lips, a woman as old as you ought to have a more generous tongue.”

From the shadows, a man’s voice replied, “It isn’t Glib Lips, it’s me. I may be only one of the younger generation, but if I had found her, my hands wouldn’t have been generous either—I’d have hung her up a little higher!’

The speaker was Yang Pen-tsai, a rascal and loafer. Of him, people said, “If there was excitement in ten places, he’d be in nine of them.” His words infuriated Li-ho.

“You dirty dog! Your lazy skin ought to be peeled from your bones!”

With only a glance at the shadows, Chun-mei rushed to the house. There was a babel of voices at the door. Torches and lanterns cast fitful gleams; people were moving in and out. Some had their jackets draped around their shoulders. Apparently they had gotten out of bed and had come running over when they heard the news. Chun-mei didn’t stop

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ALLE

AGRE Tilda? so) SS SPS ee 8

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