Dumplings, dumplings, smoking hot,
Dumplings, dumplings, fill the pot."


Would those three minutes never pass? Could the priest have told the
truth? Her old head was nearly wild with excitement as clouds of steam
rose from the kettle. Off came the lid! She could wait no longer. Wonder
of wonders! There before her unbelieving eyes was a pot, full to the
brim of pork dumplings, dancing up and down in the bubbling water, the
best, the most delicious dumplings she had ever tasted. She ate and ate
till there was no room left in her greedy stomach, and then she feasted
the cat and the dog until they were ready to burst.

"Good fortune has come at last," whispered Blackfoot, the dog, to
Whitehead, the cat, as they lay down to sun themselves outside. "I fear
I couldn't have held out another week without running away to look for
food. I don't know just what's happened, but there's no use questioning
the gods."

Mrs. Wang fairly danced for joy at the thought of her son's return and
of how she would feast him.

"Poor boy, how surprised he will be at our fortune--and it's all on
account of his goodness to his old mother."

When Ming-li came, with a dark cloud overhanging his brow, the widow saw
plainly that disappointment was written there.

"Come, come, lad!" she cried cheerily, "clear up your face and smile,
for the gods have been good to us and I shall soon show you how richly