How Fin Fan's eyes danced. Her baby would get a prize, and she would never more need to fear that her husband would give it away. That terrible dread had haunted her ever since its birth. "But surely," thought the little mother, "if it gets a prize he will be so proud that he will let me keep it forever."
And Fin Fan's baby did get a prize—a shining gold bit—and Fin Fan, delighted and excited, started for home. She was so happy and proud.
Chung Kee was very angry. Fin Fan was not in her room, and the work he had given her to do that morning was lying on the table undone. He said some hard words in a soft voice, which was his way sometimes, and then told the old woman who helped the men in the factory to be ready to carry a baby to the herb doctor's wife that night. "Tell her," said he, "that my cousin, the doctor, says that she long has desired a child, and so I send her one as a Christmas present, according to American custom."
Just then came a loud knocking at the door. Chung Kee slowly unbarred it, and two men entered, bearing a stretcher upon which a covered form lay.
