widow, who had a bright and interesting daughter about two years younger
than Wan Lee. It was this bright, cheery, innocent, and artless child
that touched and reached a depth in the boy's nature that hitherto had
been unsuspected; that awakened a moral susceptibility which had lain
for years insensible alike to the teachings of society, or the ethics of
the theologian.

These few brief months--bright with a promise that we never saw
fulfilled--must have been happy ones to Wan Lee. He worshipped his
little friend with something of the same superstition, but without any
of the caprice, that he bestowed upon his porcelain Pagan god. It was
his delight to walk behind her to school, carrying her books--a service
always fraught with danger to him from the little hands of his Caucasian
Christian brothers. He made her the most marvellous toys; he would cut
out of carrots and turnips the most astonishing roses and tulips; he
made life-like chickens out of melon-seeds; he constructed fans and
kites, and was singularly proficient in the making of dolls' paper
dresses. On the other hand, she played and sang to him, taught him a
thousand little prettinesses and refinements only known to girls, gave
him a yellow ribbon for his pig-tail, as best suiting his complexion,
read to him, showed him wherein he was original and valuable, took him
to Sunday school with her, against the precedents of the school, and,
small-woman-like, triumphed. I wish I could add here, that she effected
his conversion, and made him give up his porcelain idol. But I am
telling a true story; and this little girl was quite content to fill him
with her own Christian goodness, without letting him know that he was
changed. So they got along very well together,--this little Christian
girl with her shining cross hanging around her plump, white little neck;
and this dark little Pagan, with his hideous porcelain god hidden away
in his blouse.