Yoo-ti-hu, being accidentally near, heard what had passed. In the bitterness of despair, he rushed from the palace, and roamed to a solitary retreat in the gardens.

“How miserable am I,” he cried, “to love so hopelessly and so madly. Grant, oh, inventive genius! that I may evade the vigilance and persecution of Tally-yang-sang. Grant that the fates may aid me in this dilemma.”

“Yoo-ti-hu,” said a voice from the shrubbery, “thou hast incurred my displeasure; but, nevertheless, since thou art in a dangerous situation, I promise three such things as thou shalt choose.”

“Verily,” quoth Yoo-ti-hu, “thou art a bountiful genius; and it is a sin to reject aid from so high a source. Know then, generous spirit, that I have peculiar occasion for a bow and a quiver of arrows.”

“A modest request,” observed the Genius, “and fortunately, I have by me such an one as no living archer ever shot with; for look you this way or that, such are its virtues, that it will hit the mark exactly in the centre.”

“Bless thee a thousand times!” cried Yoo-ti-hu in an ecstacy of joy; “and since thou art so kind, I fancy I may crave a lute,—with which I shall be satisfied, were it never so small.”

“Thou shalt have one, my son, of such exquisite tones, that when the same is played, all living things shall skip and dance,—so pleasant is the music.”

“Delightful!—excellent!” cried Yoo-ti-hu.

“What next?” said the Genius.

“Indeed, thou art too good,” replied Yoo-ti-hu; “I am going now to rove the world as a simple minstrel. I shall live on birds, and amuse myself with my lute,—so I need nothing more.”

“But, son, I solemnly swear thou shalt have three things, be they never so costly.”

“Well, good Genius, since thou art so kindly disposed, I shall choose an inexhaustible purse.”

“The very thing I have in my pocket,” quoth the Genius, and handing the inexhaustible purse to Yoo-ti-hu, he disappeared immediately.