as in one of the best families.
Your family is that place--shall I send him?' So he came in the Consul's
coach, as Lucy said, and with him an immense trunk covered with Chinese
brush-marks. He seems to be a little gentleman; and when I asked him his
name he said, 'The Consul told me to tell you to call me Sky-High.'
He doesn't speak except to make replies, but these are in very good
English."

"May I give my opinion?" asked little Lucy.

"Well, Lucy," said her mother, smiling, "what is your opinion?"

"He looks like an emperor's son, or a mandarin," said Lucy.

"And what put such a thought into your head?" asked her mother.

"The pictures on my Chinese fans," said Lucy promptly.

"Well," said Mrs. Van Buren, "if he does well, you shall treat him
exactly as though he were the son of an emperor or a wang--he says that
kings are called wangs in his land."

"Then he would be a little wang," said Lucy. "I will make believe he is
a little wang while he stays."

So Sky-High became a little wang to Lucy; and a wonderful little wang he
promised to be.

At Mr. Van Buren's wish, little Sky-High was sent for. The Chinese boy
asked Charlie, who went down for him, that he might have time to change
his dress so that he might suitably appear before "the mandarin in the
parlor." (A "mandarin" in China is a kind of mayor or magistrate of rank
more or less exalted.)

Charlie came back with the kitchen-boy's message. "He says that he wants
a little time to change his clothes so that he may suitably appear
before the mandarin in the parlor."

"The mandarin in the parlor!" exclaimed Mr. Van Buren, in a burst of
laughter. "My father used to speak of mandarins--he traded ginseng for
silks and teas at Canton in the days of the hongs--the open market or
trading-places. That was a generation ago. There are no longer any
store-houses for ginseng on the wharves of Boston. Yet my father made
all his money in this way. 'The mandarin in the parlor.' Sky-High has
a proper respect for superiors; I like the boy for that."

By and by the sound of soft feet were heard at the folding-doors.

"Come in, Sky-High," said Mrs. Van Buren.

The little kitchen-boy appeared, and all eyes lighted up in wonder.
He wore a silk tunic fringed with what looked like gold. His stockings
were white, and his shoes were spangled with silver. The broad sleeves
of his tunic were richly embroidered--he seemed to wing himself in. A
beautiful fan was in his hand, w