black eyes upon his master. "Souls? They have souls, O Mandarin! Souls
are all my people have for long."

"Where go their souls when your people die?"

"To their ancestors! With them they live among the lotus blooms."

"We will excuse you now," said Mr. Van
Buren to Sky-High. "You have answered
intelligently, according to your knowledge."

The kitchen-boy bowed himself out without turning his back towards any
one, describing many glittering angles, and waving his fan. He looked
like something vanishing, a bit of fireworks going out.

As he reached the stair, the little white cat sprang from Lucy's arms,
and skipped swiftly after the curious inmate of the kitchen. The long,
swinging braid was a temptation. The last glimpse Charles and Lucy had
was of an embroidered sleeve as Sky-High reached backward and caught the
kitten to his shoulder, and bound her fast with his queue.

Charlie clapped his hands. He thought there would be fun in the house.
He knew he should like Sky-High. As they went up-stairs he said to Lucy,
"The little Chinaman was a heathen, and father was a missionary."

Mr. Van Buren heard him, and called him back. "The little Chinaman was a
new book," said he, "and your father was reading. See that you treat the
boy well."