arlie. "You said you lived
with a mandarin!"

The little Chinaman, who had a beautiful fan in his hand, for it was a
hot night, made his mistress and her children a bow of indescribable
grace, and went to his own quarters.

X.

SKY-HIGH'S EASTER SUNDAY.

The little Chinaman seemed to make no very great task of learning "the
art of the American home." His small deft olive hand was more or less
upon everything, from cellar to attic.

"_I_ think our house-boy knew how to keep a house beautiful,
mother, before he came to our country," said Lucy one day.

"Well, perhaps he _was_ a wang," said her mother, "and _did_
live in a palace!"

"Doesn't Mr. Consul Bradley know about him, mother?"

"Consul Bradley says Sky-High's father is a good man, and that Sky-High
is a good boy with a bright mind. Of course, Lucy, there are nice
Chinese people and nice Chinese homes."

Certainly the little house-boy was wonderfully energetic. He was able to
save every Thursday for himself, and always went into Boston on that day
and, as Mrs. Van Buren learned, visited the consular office.

One day Mrs. Van Buren asked, "What do you do all day in town,
Sky-High?"

"I see Boston, mistress."

"And what is it you see?"

"The American stores, mistress, and the American little Kinder-schools,
and the American great college-schools, and the American railcar shops,
and the American hotels, and the American markets, and the Americans,
mistress."

"And who goes with you on these visits, Sky-High?"

An attack of blinking seized little Sky-High. "The consul, he goes."

Mrs. Van Buren drove into town next day. While there she made a call
upon the Chinese consular agent. Lucy was with her. Consul Bradley
appeared to have little fresh information to give.

"The boy's father is a good man," he said. "Like the wise fathers
everywhere he craves knowledge for his son. I promised him Sky-High
should see something of Boston, and I do for him all I can."

"Mother," said Lucy on the way home, "we might be nicer to Sky-High.
Listen!"

Her mother listened to Lucy's plan, and gave permission.

When Lucy got home she said to Sky-High, "We want you to go to church
with us; and Charlie and I want you to go with us to our Sunday school.
There are Chinese Sunday schools in Boston, but we wish you to be in
ours."

"I will have to wear my queue, and my flowing clothes, Lucy," said the
boy.

"But, Sky-High, you can braid your braid close, and