a certain Prefectural city in the south of China, which has
earned a reputation distinguishing it from all such towns throughout
the Empire.

In outward appearance this city is very much like every other of
similar size. The streets are narrow, and the houses are crowded close
up to each other. Every foot of land has been utilized, and no room
has been left for sanitation, or for parks and open spaces, where the
people may breathe the pure air of heaven. These things are modern
inventions of the West and have never yet touched the thought or the
life of the East, where sullen heat, fetid atmosphere, and stifling
surroundings are the natural inheritance of the men and women who
throng the cities and crowd and elbow each other in the great battle of
life.

There was one thing, however, for which this city was deservedly
celebrated. It had a great reputation for learning, and was famous as
the abode of scholars.

In the main thoroughfares, where men with a dexterity begotten of long
experience just managed to evade jostling each other, the long-gowned
students were conspicuous by their numbers. Their pale intellectual
faces, and their gleaming black eyes burning with hidden fires, marked
them out distinctly from the farmers and artisans and coolies, with
their coarser, heavier features, who moved along side by side with
them. And down the narrow alley-ways, where fetid smells and impure
airs floated the live-long day, one's ear would catch the shrill tones
of more youthful students, who in unhealthy rooms were mastering aloud
the famous classics of China, in order that in time they might compete
in the triennial examinations for the prizes offered by the Empire to
its scholars.

The ambition for learning was in the air, and a belated wayfarer,
wandering down the labyrinth of streets in the early hours of the
morning, would hear the solemn stillness broken into by the voices of
the students, as in their highest tones they repeated the writings of
the great sages.

The town was therefore dear to the God of Literature, who has ever been
ready to champion the cause of his scholars, whenever anyone has dared
to lay a hand upon their privileges.

A legend in which there is widespread belief declares that on one
occasion, when the scholars of five counties had assembled at a
triennial examination, the Imperial Examiner, who for some reason or
other had conceived a spite against the competitors from this
particular