It is even said that the great Emperor, Mu, when he saw these little dancing images for the first time, was greatly enraged at seeing one of them making eyes at his favourite wife. Honeysuckle was also fond of seeing the Punch and Judy show, for, you must know, this old-fashioned amusement for children was enjoyed by little folks in China, perhaps three thousand years before your great-grandfather was born.
See that you don’t get a new supply of them.” Min would say, “for your sins are all gone. So Honeysuckle, always obedient-at least with her father-would saw the string in two between the sharp stones, and with a childish cry of despair would watch her favourite kite, blown by the wind, sail farther and farther away, until at last, straining her eyes, she could see it sink slowly to the earth in some far-distant meadow. Virtue is the foundation of happiness,” he would reply sternly, choking back his laughter at her question.
“No, child it is dangerous to hold on to one’s sins. Mayn’t we keep our sins a little longer?” she would innocently ask. When all his cord was let out, he would pick up two sharp stones, and, handing them to Honeysuckle, would say, “Now, daughter, cut the string, and the wind will carry away the sins that are written down on the scraps of paper.” Min would send the kite up high-high over the house-tops, even higher than the tall Pagoda on the hillside. “Your old nurse is afraid to scold you, and if you are to grow up to be a good woman, Daddy must teach you what is right.” “Oh, when Honeysuckle has been naughty that is a sin!” he answered gently. “On every piece is written a sin that we have done.” “What can those queer-looking papers be?” “What are you doing, Daddy?” Honeysuckle would ask.
Min would fasten queerly twisted scraps of paper, on which were written many Chinese words, to the string of her favourite kite. “It is the wind singing, Daddy,” cried Honeysuckle, clapping her hands with joy “singing a kite-song to both of us.” Sometimes, to teach his little darling a lesson if she had been the least naughty, Mr. Min was very skilful in flying these kites for little Honeysuckle, and so naturally did his birds and butterflies circle round and hover about in the air that almost any little western boy would have been deceived and said, “Why, there is a real bird, and not a kite at all!” Then again, he would fasten a queer little instrument to the string, which made a kind of humming noise, as he waved his hand from side to side. There were fish, birds, butterflies, lizards and huge dragons, one of which had a tail more than thirty feet long. Her father often bought kites for her, of every kind and shape. As sweet as the flower from which she took her name, she listened to her father’s slightest command, and obeyed without ever waiting to be told a second time. Of course this was enough to spoil most children, but Honeysuckle was not at all like other children. Min, for that was this gentleman’s name, was famous throughout the whole district for his learning, and, as he was also the owner of much property, he spared no effort to teach Honeysuckle the wisdom of the sages, and to give her everything she craved. This girl, like the daughter of Kwan-yu in the story of the Great Bell, was the very joy of her father’s life. We would encourage parents to read beforehand if your child is sensitive to such themes.įar up in the mountains of the Province of Hunan in the central part of China, there once lived in a small village a rich gentleman who had only one child. This is a vintage fairy tale, and may contain violence.
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