y's face was glowing with the love of which the fairy
had spoken. "My poor, poor father and mother!" he cried; "they knew
nothing of these beautiful things you are telling me. They were brought
up in poverty. As they were knocked about in childhood by those around
them, so they learned to beat others who begged them for help. Is it
strange that they did not have hearts full of pity for you when you
looked like a beggar?"

"But what about you, my boy? You were not deaf when I asked you. Have
you not been whipped and punished all your life? How then did you learn
to look with love at those in tears?"

The child could not answer these questions, but only looked sorrowfully
at Iron Staff. "Oh, can you not, good fairy, will you not restore my
parents and brothers, and give them another chance to be good and useful
people?"

"Listen, Ying-lo; it is impossible--unless you do two things first," he
answered, stroking his beard gravely and leaning heavily upon his staff.

"What are they? What must I do to save my family? Anything you ask of me
will not be too much to pay for your kindness."

"First you must tell me of some good deed done by these people for whose
lives you are asking. Name only one, for that will be enough; but it is
against our rules to help those who have done nothing."

Ying-lo was silent, and for a moment his face was clouded. "Yes, I
know," he said finally, brightening. "They burned incense once at the
temple. That was certainly a deed of virtue."

"But when was it, little one, that they did this?"

"When my big brother was sick, and they were praying for him to get
well. The doctors could not save him with boiled turnip juice or with
any other of the medicines they used, so my parents begged the gods."

"Selfish, selfish!" muttered Iron Staff. "If their eldest son had not
been dying they would have spent no money at the temple. They tried in
this way to buy back his health, for they were expecting him to support
them in their old age."

Ying-lo's face fell. "You are right," he answered.

"Can you think of nothing else?"

"Yes, oh, yes, last year when the foreigner rode through our village and
fell sick in front of our house, they took him in and cared for him."

"How long?" asked the other sharply.

"Until he died the next week."

"And what did they do with the mule he was riding, his bed, and the
money in his bag? Did they try to restore them to his people?"

"No, they said they'd keep t