By the time the festival of Pai-shan came—the day when all go to worship at the graves of their ancestors—Tuen had already commenced to struggle with the queer, sprawling hieroglyphics that fill the Chinese books, and she was so proud and happy that she could think of nothing else. The Viceroy was going in state to honor his forefathers, riding in his sedan, and followed by a long retinue of servants, and Tuen, Wang and Ta-ta had been allowed, as a special favor, to join this procession. As they left the yamen Tuen was telling them of the wonderful characters she was trying to understand, and of the delight of learning about them, and Ta-ta laughed good-naturedly.
 
"It was very silly of you to beg such a favor of the Viceroy," she said. "Who ever heard of a woman who could read, or who even wanted to? Why did you not ask him for a silk dress, or for a pair of gold ear-rings? That would have been much more sensible."

"I didn\'t want anything in the world but to be learned like a man," Tuen announced, "and I will be too, even if I am a woman"; and she set her lips firmly together.

"I never knew of a girl being allowed to study before," Wang said. "The Viceroy is truly a wonderful man."

"Women are not born to be happy any where," Ta-ta remarked. "Tuen will find that out some day."

"Well, the consolation is that we don\'t have to be women always," Wang said philosophically. "Buddha said that we who, while on earth, were obedient to our husband and his relatives, would some[Pg 87] day come back to earth a man. That is something to look forward to. Yesterday I went to the temple and carried the money I had saved and gave it to the priest, that he might pay the toll for me at the bridge that leads to the spirit-land; and I also gave him the fee for the ferryman, and a lot of cash for that greedy one that rows the dragon-boat across the lake of blood. Now I have nothing to fear."

"No, you can kill yourself any day," Ta-ta whispered enviously.

While they talked they were making their way through the babbling throng that filled the streets, and as they were but seldom allowed to leave the Viceroy\'s residence they were looking about them with the keenest pleasure. Hanging from the low tiled roofs of the houses were branches of willow, the mourning tree of the dead, and a vast concourse of people in holiday attire were either going or returning from[Pg 88] the "worship at the hills"; for on this day all the population steal a few hours from the daily routine of drudgery, and go to render homage to the spirits of their dead. Their gods were shadowy and unreal, perhaps had no existence save in the imagination of the priests, but their own dear ones they knew lived and went away. Why might not their souls, wandering in the unknown, look back to earth and listen to the prayers of mortals? So they reasoned, and this was why that on this sunny spring day the hills where the dead slept were thronged with the living. An endless procession passed in and out of the gates of the city, the square battlements and watch-towers were deserted, and upon the great stone bridge that spanned the water, the throng surged ever backward and forward. Little groups were gath............