door in the basket-work fence of the ducks'
house, and they all crowd and hurry to reach the water again, after
staying all night shut up in this cage. There they go, tumbling and
diving. Each must have a thorough bath first of all; then the old
drake leads the way, and they swim off in the bright water along the
shore for a hundred yards, and then among the marshes, where they will
feed all day, and come back at night when they hear the shrill whistle
of Kang-hy calling them to come home and go to bed.

Pen-se and her father will go in to breakfast now, under the bamboo
roof which slides over the middle part of the boat, or can be pushed
back if they desire. As Kang-hy turns to go in, and takes off his
bamboo hat, the sun shines on his bare, shaved head, where only one
lock of hair is left; that is braided into a long, thick tail, and
hangs far down his back. He is very proud of it, and nothing would
induce him to have it cut off. Now it hangs down over his loose blue
nankeen jacket, but when he goes to work he will twist it round upon
the crown of his head, and tuck the end under the coil to keep it out
of the way. Isn't this a funny way for a man to wear his hair? Pen-se
has hers still in little soft curls, but by and by it will be braided,
and at last fastened up into a high knot on the top of her head, as
her mother's is. Her little brother Lin already has his head shaved
almost bare, and waits impatiently for the time when his single lock
of hair will be long enough to braid.

When I was a child it was a very rare thing to see people such as
these in our own land, but now we are quite familiar with these odd
ways of dressing, and our streets have many of these funny names on
their signs.

Shall we look in to see them at breakfast? Tea for the children as
well as for the father and mother. They have no milk, and do not like
to drink water, so they take many cups of tea every day. And here,
too, are their bowls of rice upon the table, but no spoons or forks
with which to eat it. Pen-se, however, does not need spoon or fork;
she takes two small, smooth sticks, and, lifting the bowl to her
mouth, uses the sticks like a little shovel. You would spill the rice
and soil your dress if you should try to do so, but these children
know no other way, and they have learned to do it quite carefully.

The sticks are called chopsticks; and up in the great house on the
hill, where Pen-se went to carry fish, lives a little lad