NOW Lao Ng Tau was a civil mandarin of the second grade, of a noble ancestry, considerable learning, and in addition he was tao-tai of Sung Ying Fu and the surrounding district—which means that he possessed, or held the power of acquiring to himself, no inconsiderable wealth. He was a travelled man, moreover, and one possessing a broad mind, and not over hide-bound with conservative Chinese prejudice. On one of his visits to the great capital, Peking, he had contracted a marriage with the beautiful Mah Su. Of the magnificent and costly presents he had presented to her honourable parents we will not speak, nor of the superb gifts that he had also received, or of the completely perfect manner in which the etiquette of their marriage ceremony had been conducted. Poems were written by seventy-eight poets, many of whom were held in considerable honour in the capital. Many of these poems can possibly be purchased in Peking to this day, so it is not necessary for us to enter into details of the rejoicings on this auspicious occasion. Eighteen artists of undoubted skill and pre-eminence had been engaged to portray the dazzling brilliance of the marriage cortÈge, but they all declared that the sun-like effulgence of the scene had completely blinded their ill-conditioned and degenerate eyes to such an extent that they were quite unable to depict any portion of the picture with the degraded and low-class pigments at their disposal. When justice and due reward had been meted out to the poets, painters, and musicians with bowstring, hot oil, and bamboo rods, according as their several productions merited; the honourable Lao Ng Tau journeyed with befitting escort to Sung Ying Fu with the beautiful Mah Su as his wife.

Mah Su was a Manchu lady, and in addition to considerable beauty of face possessed a remarkable vivacity and cheerfulness, and had not had her feet bound in her childhood. Lao Ng Tau loved his wife dearly, was charmed with her wit and accomplishments; and she was no less pleased with her husband, and the presents of pearls, gold, and jade that he lavished upon her. So for two years these two lived in the greatest serenity at Sung Ying Fu. Mah Su’s lips were the reddest and her teeth the whitest in the world, and these latter were shown to remarkable advantage when biting some sweetmeat or fruit at the same time as she chattered and laughed with her husband. She possessed a very marked penchant for nectarines, and having eaten about half a coolie-load of these one day, she was taken ill towards nightfall with severe pains near the lower edge of her embroidered jacket. Her husband was distracted at the sight of his incomparable wife rolling from side to side on her honourable bed, and occasionally assuming distressingly inelegant attitudes when a more excruciating twinge caused her for an instant to forget the refined deportment so necessary in the wife of a mandarin of Lao Ng Tau’s importance. The greatly and properly distressed husband saw at once the necessity of consulting a doctor, but his honourable mind was undecided whether to summon the foreign missionary doctor or the wise and justly reverenced Wing Fung.

In earlier days Lao Ng Tau had resided in Hankow, and there had made great friends with an Englishman, of whose education and knowledge of the world he held a very high opinion. When the question of foreign missionaries arose in Lao’s mind, he would always recall the words of his old friend that “missionaries frequently did as much good as harm.” This thought rather inclined his acute mind towards the seeking of advice from the missionary doctor in Sung Ying Fu, but then, what of the renowned Wing Fung? When the cholera attacked the city of Sung Ying, was it not Wing Fung who lit small fires on the stomachs of those affected, had he not even done so to the meanest and most degraded of his patients, even supplying the firewood from his own store in some cases? Then, again, had he not cured the honourable Ah Wong of a most distressing and undignified skin disease by administering pills cunningly concocted of crabs’ eyes? Had not the noble Phat Cheong been relieved of an aggravating sprained ankle by rest and the occasional swallowing of live lob-worms soaked in honey? Again, had not the honourable wife of Sung Yee Hoy been restored to health after a careful diet of the thumb nails of the bald-faced monkey? Taking all things into consideration, Lao decided on employing the renowned and careful Wing Fung on this soul-moving and entirely discomposing occasion. Herein he was ill-advised, for had he consulted the missionary doctor he would at the least have secured a correct diagnosis, for the beautiful Mah Su lay in great agony, a high fever, and in an inelegant attitude, with her right leg drawn up. To be accurate, the peerless Mah Su suffered from an acute attack of that, to Western ideas, fashionable complaint, appendicitis.

Thus the erudite Wing Fung, he entered with many befitting and seemly obeisances. He remarked that it ill became his own vile person to profane the presence of the exalted wife of Lao Ng Tau, and that such meagre knowledge of the healing art as he possessed was almost rendered void by the august impressions created on his dull intellect by the evidences of supreme culture with which he found himself surrounded.

Lao listened to the doctor with impatience, and having paid a compliment to the doctor’s knowledge of the classics with which his speech had been liberally sprinkled, begged him to see his wife and prescribe whatever might alleviate her pain.

The doctor, having adjusted a pair of brass-rimmed spectacles which magnified about three hundred diameters, entered the room occupied by Mah Su. Having made a lengthy examination, he returned to Lao, and explained that there were two treatments possible. One consisted of rushing the patient up and down the room until she broke into a violent perspiration and then throwing ice-cold water over her, and the other consisted in maintaining absolute quietude while the soles of her feet were burnt with glowing charcoal. Wing Fung explained that no true decision could be arrived at until he had carefully consulted the stars, that this occupation would entail his own careful study during the night, and that the cost would amount to at least six taels. Lao handed over the six taels, and Wing Fung departed, leaving the never-to-be-replaced Mah Su still in agony and Lao not less distressed mentally.

The following morning Wing Fung reappeared. He stated that he had consulted the stars, and that from their reading he had learnt that the most honourable Mah Su had been invaded by a most pestilential rat, that even now the rat was gnawing at her vitals, and that an additional ten taels would enable him so to study the stars that he would discover by what means the rat might be driven from its hiding-place in the stomach of the most honourable wife of the gracious Lao Ng Tau.

Wing Fung received the ten taels and again departed, reappearing the next day somewhat dishevelled. We must understand that the learned doctor had now been some forty-eight hours without sleep—his walk was jagged and uncertain, his speech thick, and he had an unfortunate habit of chuckling, and hiccoughs somewhat marred his demands for fifteen more taels to carry out his researches among the stars.

Now Lao got angry. He said that Wing Fung should conduct his researches among the stars right there on the roof, and he also ordered a coolie to see that the renowned Wing Fung did not doze, the coolie being supplied with a heavy and useful bamboo rod.

Throughout the day Wing Fung was kept awake with difficulty and the bamboo; but when the night came and the stars became visible, he almost fell asleep in spite of the repeated blows rained on his back by the attendant. At last Wing Fung begged to see the honourable Lao. He then explained that he was an outside doctor, that he knew all about things that one could see, but of the internal arrangements of humanity he was ignorant. He begged Lao to send for a renowned doctor named Hao Suey, who understood all such things; and having given directions as to where Hao Suey might be found, he begged leave to go to sleep.

Lao replied that he was quite willing that Wing Fung should sleep; and having signed to the executioner, Wing Fung slept—with his fathers.

Then Lao sent post haste for the renowned Hao Suey. So much in earnest was he, that Hao Suey was given twenty-four blows on the feet and brought post haste to the house of Lao in a sedan-chair carried by four coolies.

On his arrival Hao Suey produced a bad impression by being unable to walk, and Lao’s displeasure was evinced by ordering Hao to receive twenty-four blows on such portion of his body that, in addition to being unable to stand, he was now rendered unable to sit. After this encouragement, the renowned doctor entered the presence of the distressed Mah Su in a most reverent manner on his hands and knees, that being the only method of locomotion of which he was capable.

Mah Su was now very ill, and the wretched doctor remained as long in her presence as he possibly could, fearing further encouragement at the hands of the distracted husband. At length a peremptory order from Lao caused the doctor to painfully grovel out of the room to the mandarin’s presence. Here the unfortunate Hao made another faux pas, for, being ignorant of the fate of the learned Wing Fung, and hoping to gain a respite and ease his battered body, he requested an advance of twenty taels to enable him to consult the stars. Lao’s face showed nothing of the anger boiling within him as he ordered the attendants to remove the doctor and send the executioner in. The executioner, however, could not be found. It appeared that after exercising his professional skill on Wing Fung, he had gone off to the widow to present his bill and collect the money in person for services rendered to the deceased shortly prior to and during the latter’s last moments. The executioner’s demands having met with more success than he had expected, he was led away by the exuberance of his spirits to rather over-indulge in samshu, so that on his return very late to the Yamen, his condition was such that it was hopeless to expect him to exercise his office until he had slept off his libations. This circumstance proved considerably fortunate for Hao Suey, as during the night the beautiful and high-born Mah Su died.

Lao was thunderstruck at this awful catastrophe. He took no further interest in his affairs or the affairs of his country, and after the first numbness at his loss had worn off, he decided to write to the “Son of Heaven,” petitioning permission to retire from office.

However, before even the ink had been rubbed upon the stone or the rabbit-hair brush dipped in the dead-black, sweet-smelling liquid known to barbarians as “Indian ink,” other events happened to prevent Lao from inditing his petition to the ruler of the Middle Kingdom. In this wise: The news of the death of the peerless Mah Su had instantly spread through Sung Ying Fu, and had furthermore been noised through the surrounding districts by itinerant merchants and travellers. As a result of this, before Lao had had any time to indulge his grief, he found dozens of poor but sympathetic relations arriving at his house with children, coolies, luggage, mules, and much wailing and lamentation. Lao, as befitted his station, suitably entertained and housed all, with their servants and cattle. Aunts, uncles, nephews, nieces, cousins many times removed, all came with their servants and hangers-on. Lao was a rich man, and his house was large, but it soon became necessary to hire other extra apartments for his guests. In addition to this, the house was rendered doubly uncomfortable by the presence of numerous professional mourners. All day and night the house was filled with the squeaking of fiddles, crying of mourners, howling of relations’ babies, wrangling of relations’ coolies in the courtyards, and squealing of relations’ ponies and mules. Between looking after his unbidden guests, arranging for suitable funeral ceremonies, and indulging his own genuine grief at his bereavement, Lao naturally neglected his duties to the State.

At last the heavy lacquered coffin was built, and all seemed ready for the interment when the question of a suitable site for the grave arose. Soothsayers were called in to assist in the decision. The wisest soothsayers that Sung Ying Fu and district could supply were requisitioned. They consulted the stars, ate eagerly of everything in the house, but still failed to come to any decision. As soon as one would find a suitable hillside, another would learn by the stars that that particular site possessed a certain malign influence on all of the house of Lao. These procrastinations and disappointments were admirably borne by the aunts, cousins, cousins many times removed, and other relations of Lao. With true Oriental self-sacrifice they all said they were quite indifferent as to how long they stayed with the honourable Lao, provided everything connected with the funeral was done properly and in order. The hired mourners, soothsayers, and others who were paid by the day, also showed an admirable fortitude under the circumstances, the universal opinion being that no risks should be taken, but that all should be done in order and according to the decision that would eventually be arrived at by a due and careful study of the heavenly omens.

These continued searchings for celestial guidance in the choice of a burial-place, and other duties in the matter of his unbidden guests, so occupied the distracted Lao’s mind, that many evil persons found opportunities of practising their nefarious callings in the district without let or hindrance from the magistrate. The tao-tai’s district surrounding the city of Sung Ying became more and more lawless, until the numerous bands of robbers that roamed unchecked throughout the land became a positive scandal.

At last, to the tao-tai’s unbounded relief, a decision was arrived at by the experts, who had eventually settled on the propitious spot for the interment of the all-too-soon deceased Mah Su. The funeral preparations were, therefore, hurried forward, and everything was prepared on the most lavish and expensive scale. The relations of all degrees of remoteness ordered the most expensive robes at Lao’s expense, and it really seemed as if Lao’s troubles were about to end. The blue sky, however, still held a bolt for the unfortunate tao-tai. Just as everything was complete, one of the most learned of the soothsayers discovered that a propitious day for the ceremony had not yet been decided on. This terrible oversight struck everyone, except possibly Lao, with astonishing force. The aunts, uncles, cousins, etc., were unanimous in their praises of the astute savant who had saved them from making what might have proved an irremediable faux pas. Again everyone was resigned to waiting until the all-knowing stars should reveal their decision.

The next crushing blow came, not from heaven, but from the Viceroy, in the form of a letter to the tao-tai. This admirably worded screed set forth that it having come to the ears of the most exalted Viceroy that the country on which the honourable Lao Ng Tau held jurisdiction was in a very disturbed state owing to the presence of certain lawless bands, which bands plundered the subjects of the Son of Heaven, the honourable Lao Ng Tau was herewith ordered to suppress the same and send the heads of their leaders to Peking pour encourager les autres. The order concluded with a mild suggestion that the tao-tai’s own head might possibly adorn a spike in the Imperial city should the rebels not be suppressed within the month.

With so much to worry him in his private affairs, Lao was nearly distracted by this order, but as an officer of the State he realised that private grief must give way to Imperial demands. So he hastened to equip a military force to engage and subdue the bands of robbers which now formed such a menace to the peace of Sung Ying Fu.

Starting with a gay band of troops, armed with banners, umbrellas, matchlocks, singing birds in cages, and other deadly weapons affected by the Chinese soldier, Lao proceeded against the rebels. At the first brush with the enemy the tao-tai’s glittering rabble deserted to a man to the opposing force. Lao, after a gallant resistance, was himself overpowered and taken prisoner and carried by his captors to the hills.

He learnt from his captors that during his absence on this punitive expedition his relations had held high revels in his house, and were entertaining continuously on a lavish scale, and that the would-be star-gazers were so continually in a state of intoxication that the discovery of a lucky day on which to bury Mah Su was likely to be indefinitely postponed.

The news of Lao’s capture soon reached the Viceroy, who at once informed the Government, with the result that the vermilion pencil issued an edict that Lao Ng Tau, late tao-tai of Sung Ying Fu, was to be beheaded, his head to be forwarded to Peking, his property confiscated, his house razed to the ground, and the land on which it stood to be ploughed up to a depth of two feet, and that should his schoolmaster be still alive, that that miserable individual should receive one hundred blows with a bamboo. The worst punishment of all, however, was the final one, namely, that Lao’s great-grandfather, dead some sixty years, should be degraded from the rank of mandarin of the first to mandarin of the third class.

On receipt of this news Lao’s anger was awful, and the chief of the robbers, choosing this opportunity to request him to become their chief and war on Society, was at once met with a hearty acceptance.

The news of Lao’s joining the robber band was soon brought to the Viceroy’s ears, and the latter in a short time fitted out an expedition, headed by himself, to destroy this recalcitrant tao-tai. In the first, second, and third engagement Lao’s rabble defeated the Viceroy’s troops at every turn. Then the authorities at Peking adopted different tactics. They offered Lao supreme command of Imperial troops, buttons, yellow jackets, two-eyed peacocks’ feathers—all were offered him if he would only come into the service of the Supreme Ruler of the Middle Kingdom.

But Lao had his own special vendetta to occupy his mind. He mistrusted the Government after the way they had treated him, and preferred to be an outlaw. The cousins, aunts, and very distant relations, not to mention the soothsayers, who had so long lived at Lao’s expense, now began to get frightened. Mah Su’s body was interred forthwith, and a magnificent memorial archway was erected by the relations to her memory.

But unfortunately Lao still remains an outcast. He has killed nearly all his relations and most of the soothsayers in the neighbourhood of Sung Ying, but in spite of frequent offers from the Son of Heaven at Peking making him General of the Imperial troops, Lao Ng Tau still remains a bandit, because certain of his cousins yet remain alive, and moreover there is more than one soothsayer still living in the vicinity of Sung Ying Fu.