Wio-wani, embracing him tenderly. "Now I am sending my second self into the
world. When you are tired and want rest come back to me: old Wio-wani will
take you in."

Tiki-pu was sobbing, and the tears were running down his cheeks as he stepped
out of Wio-wani's wonderfully painted garden and stood once more upon earth.
Turning, he saw the old man walking away along the path toward the little door
under the palace-wall. At the door Wio-wani turned back and waved his hand for
the last time. Tiki-pu still stood watching him. Then the door opened and
shut, and Wio-wani was gone. Softly as a flower the picture seemed to have
folded its leaves over him.

Tiki-pu leaned a wet face against the picture and kissed the door in the
palace-wall which Wio-wani had painted so beautifully. "O Wio-wani, dear
master," he cried, "are you there?"

He waited, and called again, but no voice answered him.




THE WAY OF THE WIND


Where the world breaks up into islands among the blue waves of an eastern sea,
in a little house by the seashore, lived Katipah, the only child of poor
parents. When they died she was left quite alone and could not find a heart in
the world to care for her. She was so poor that no man thought of marrying
her, and so delicate and small that as a drudge she was worth nothing to
anybody.