Surely you are
not a very polite youngster, even if you did save me from burning to
death."

"Count you?" repeated the boy, surprised. "Why, surely you can't help me
to earn a living?"

"Why not, boy? Is this an age when old men are good for nothing?"

"But, sir, you are only the _spirit_ of my grandfather, and spirits
cannot work!"

"Ha, ha! just hear the child. Why, look you, I will show you what
spirits can do, provided you will do exactly what I tell you."

Of course, K'ang-p'u promised, for he was always obedient; and was not
this little man who spoke so strangely, the spirit of his grandfather?
And is not every lad in China taught to honour his ancestors?

"Now, listen, my boy. First, let me say that if you had not been kind,
brave and filial, I should not take the trouble to help you out of your
misfortune. As it is, there is nothing else for me to do. I cast your
father off because he was disobedient. He has lived in a dirty hovel
ever since. Doubtless, he has been sorry for his misdeeds, for I see
that although he was disgraced by being sent away from the family home,
he has taught you to honour and love me. Most boys would have snatched
up a blanket or a piece of bread before running from the enemy, but you
thought only of my tablet. You saved me and went to bed hungry. For this
bravery, I shall give back to you the home of your ancestors."

"But I can't live in it," said K'ang-p'u, full of wonder, "if you will
not let my father come back to it. If he goes away he will have a very
hard time: he will be lonely without me, and may die; and then I would
not be able to take care of his grave, or to burn incense there at the
proper season!"

"Quite right, K'ang-p'u. I see you love your father as well as your
grandfather's tablet. Very well; you shall have your way. I daresay your
father is sorry by this time that he treated me so badly."

"Indeed, he must be," said the boy earnestly, "for I have seen him kneel
before your tablet many times and burn incense there on the proper days.
I know he is very sorry."

"Very well; go to sleep again. Let us wait until morning and then I
shall see what I can do for you. This moonlight is not bright enough for
my old eyes. I shall have to wait for morning."

As he spoke these last words, the little man began to grow smaller and
smaller before the eyes of his grandson, until at last he had altogether
disappeared.

At first, K'ang-p'u was too much excited to close h