y who has
beautiful pearl chopsticks, and wears roses in her hair. Pen-se often
thinks of her, and wishes she might go again to carry the fish, and
see some of the beautiful things in that garden with the high walls.
Perhaps you have in your own house, or in your schoolroom, pictures of
some of the pretty things that may have been there,--little children
and ladies dressed in flowery gowns, with fans in their hands;
tea-tables and pretty dishes, and a great many lovely flowers and
beautiful birds.

But now she must not stop to think. Breakfast is over, and the father
must go on shore to his work,--carrying tea-boxes to the store of a
great merchant. Lin, too, goes to his work, of which I will by and by
tell you; and even Pen-se and her little sister, young as they are,
must go with their mother, who has a tanka-boat in which she carries
fresh fruit and vegetables, to the big ships which are lying off
shore. The two little girls can help at the oars, while the mother
steers to guide the boat.

I wish I could tell you how pleasant it is out on the river this
bright morning. A hundred boats are moving; the ducks and geese
have all gone up the stream; the people who live in the boats have
breakfasted, and the fishermen have come out to their work. This
is Lin's work. He works with his uncle Chow, and already his blue
trousers are stripped above his knees, and he stands on the wet
fishing-raft watching some brown birds. Suddenly one of them plunges
into the water and brings up a fish in its yellow bill. Lin takes it
out and sends the bird for another; and such industrious fishermen
are the brown cormorants that they keep Lin and his uncle busy all the
morning, until the two large baskets are filled with fish, and then
the cormorants may catch for themselves. Lin brings his bamboo pole,
rests it across his shoulders, hangs one basket on each end, and goes
up into the town to sell his fish. Here it was that Pen-se went on
that happy day when she saw the little lady in the house on the hill,
and she has not forgotten the wonders of that day in the streets.

The gay sign-posts in front of the shops, with colors flying; the busy
workmen,--tinkers mending or making their wares; blacksmiths with all
their tools set up at the corners of the streets; barbers with
grave faces, intently braiding the long hair of their customers;
water-carriers with deep water-buckets hung from a bamboo pole like
Lin's fish-baskets; the soldiers in