"They bid me call tomorrow."
With a moan the mother sank to the floor.
The noon hour passed. The dinner remained on the table.
III
𝕋HE winter rains were over: the spring had come to California, flushing the hills with green and causing an ever-changing pageant of flowers to pass over them. But there was no spring in Lae Choo's heart, for the Little One remained away from her arms. He was being kept in a mission. White women were caring for him, and though for one full moon he had pined for his mother and refused to be comforted he was now apparently happy and contented. Five moons or five months had gone by since the day he had passed with Lae Choo through the Golden Gate; but the great Government at Washington still delayed sending the answer which would return him to his parents.
Hom Hing was disconsolately rolling up and down the balls in his abacus box when a keen-faced young man stepped into his store.
"What news?" asked the Chinese merchant.
"This!" The young man brought forth
