Kai Lung’s Golden Hours - Ernest Bramah (the reading strategies book .TXT) 📗

illustrious talent outside this person’s insignificant abode?”

“Because,” replied Sun modestly, “the benevolent mandarin who has just spoken had not then invited me inside. Now, however, he will be able to hear to greater advantage the very doubtful qualities of my entertainment.”

With these words Kiau Sun struck the duck so proficiently that it emitted a lifelike call, and prepared to raise his voice in a chant.

“Restrain your undoubted capacity,” exclaimed Wong Pao hastily. “The inquiry presented itself to you at an inaccurate angle. Why, to restate it, did you continue before this uninviting hovel when, under the external forms of true politeness, my slave endeavoured to remove you hence?”

“In the circumstances this person may have overlooked the delicacy of the message, for, as it is well written, ‘To the starving, a blow from a skewer of meat is more acceptable than a caress from the hand of a maiden,’ ” said Kiau Sun. “Whereunto remember, thou two-stomached merchant, that although the house in question is yours, the street is mine.”

“By what title?” demanded Wong Pao contentiously.

“By the same that confers this well-appointed palace upon you,” replied Sun: “because it is my home.”

“The point is one of some subtlety,” admitted Wong Pao, “and might be pursued to an extreme delicacy of attenuation if it were argued by those whose profession it is to give a variety of meanings to the same thing. Yet even allowing the claim, it is none the less an unendurable affliction that your voice should disturb my peacefully conducted enterprise.”

“As yours would have done mine, O concave-witted Wong Pao!”

“That,” retorted the merchant, “is a disadvantage that you could easily have averted by removing yourself to a more distant spot.”

“The solution is equally applicable to your own case, mandarin,” replied Kiau Sun affably.

“Alas!” exclaimed Wong Pao, with an obvious inside bitterness, “it is a mistake to argue with persons of limited intelligence in terms of courtesy. This, doubtless, was the meaning of the philosopher Nhy-hi when he penned the observation, ‘Death, a woman and a dumb mute always have the last word,’ Why did I have you conducted hither to convince you dispassionately, rather than send an armed guard to force you away by violence?”

“Possibly,” suggested the minstrel, “because my profession is a legally recognized one, and, moreover, under the direct protection of the exalted Mandarin Shen-y-ling.”

“Profession!” retorted Wong Pao, stung by the reference to Shen-y-ling, for that powerful official’s attitude was indeed the inner reason why he had not pushed violence to a keener edge against Kiau Sun, “an abject mendicancy, yielding two hands’ grasp of copper cash a day on a stock composed of half a dozen threadbare odes.”

“Compose me half a dozen better and one hand-count of cash shall be apportioned to you each evening,” suggested Sun.

“A handful of cash for my labour!” exclaimed the indignant Wong Pao. “Learn, puny wayfarer, that in a single day the profit of my various enterprises exceeds a hundred taels of silver.”

“That is less than the achievement of my occupation,” said Kiau Sun.

“Less!” repeated the merchant incredulously. “Can you, O boaster, display a single tael?”

“Doubtless I should be the possessor of thousands if I made use of the attributes of a merchant⁠—three hands and two faces. But that was not the angle of my meaning: your labour only compels men to remember; mine enables them to forget.”

Thus they continued to strive, each one contending for the preeminence of his own state, regardless of the sage warning: “In three moments a labourer will remove an obstructing rock, but three moons will pass without two wise men agreeing on the meaning of a vowel”; and assuredly they would have persisted in their intellectual entertainment until the great sky-lantern rose and the pangs of hunger compelled them to desist, were it not for the manifestation of a very unusual occurrence.

The Emperor, N’ang Wei, then reigning, is now generally regarded as being in no way profound or inspired, but possessing the faculty of being able to turn the dissensions among his subjects to a profitable account, and other accomplishments useful in a ruler. As he passed along the streets of his capital he heard the voices of two raised in altercation, and halting the bearer of his umbrella, he commanded that the persons concerned should be brought before him and state the nature of their dispute.

“The rivalry is an ancient one,” remarked the Emperor when each had made his claim. “Doubtless we ourselves could devise a judgment, but in this cycle of progress it is more usual to leave decision to the pronouncement of the populace⁠—and much less exacting to our Imperial ingenuity. An edict will therefore be published, stating that at a certain hour Kiau Sun will stand upon the Western Hill of the city and recite one of his incomparable epics, while at the same gong-stroke Wong Pao will take his station on the Eastern Hill, let us say for the purpose of distributing pieces of silver among any who are able to absent themselves from the competing attraction. It will then be clearly seen which entertainment draws the greater number.”

“Your mind, O all-wisest, is only comparable to the peacock’s tail in its spreading brilliance!” exclaimed Wong Pao, well assured of an easy triumph.

Kiau Sun, however, remained silent, but he observed closely the benignly impartial expression of the Emperor’s countenance.

When the indicated time arrived, only two persons could have been observed within the circumference of the Western Hill of the city⁠—a blind mendicant who had lost his way and an extremely round-bodied mandarin who had been abandoned there by his carriers when they heard the terms of the edict. But about the Eastern Hill the throng was so great that for some time after it was unusual to meet a person whose outline had not been permanently altered by the occasion. Even Kiau Sun was present.

On a protected eminence stood N’ang Wei. Near him was Wong Pao, confidently awaiting the moment when the Emperor should declare himself. When, therefore, the all-wisest graciously made