of his youth and the thoughtlessness of a naturally joyous heart.

And he departed to abide in the house of Lord Tchang, while the autumn
passed, and the winter also.

* * * * *

When the time of the second moon of spring was drawing near, and that
happy day which the Chinese call _Hoa-tchao_, or, "The Birthday of a
Hundred Flowers," a longing came upon Ming-Y to see his parents; and he
opened his heart to the good Tchang, who not only gave him the
permission he desired, but also pressed into his hand a silver gift of
two ounces, thinking that the lad might wish to bring some little
memento to his father and mother. For it is the Chinese custom, on the
feast of Hoa-tchao, to make presents to friends and relations.

That day all the air was drowsy with blossom perfume, and vibrant with
the droning of bees. It seemed to Ming-Y that the path he followed had
not been trodden by any other for many long years; the grass was tall
upon it; vast trees on either side interlocked their mighty and
moss-grown arms above him, beshadowing the way; but the leafy
obscurities quivered with bird-song, and the deep vistas of the wood
were glorified by vapors of gold, and odorous with flower-breathings as
a temple with incense. The dreamy joy of the day entered into the heart
of Ming-Y; and he sat him down among the young blossoms, under the
branches swaying against the violet sky, to drink in the perfume and the
light, and to enjoy the great sweet silence. Even while thus reposing, a
sound caused him to turn his eyes toward a shady place where wild
peach-trees were in bloom; and he beheld a young woman, beautiful as the
pinkening blossoms themselves, trying to hide among them. Though he