them; yet those from whom they had cut away were ignorant of such forces; at least, unable, by reason of education and environment, to comprehend them. There were days when everything seemed to taste bitter to Pau Tsu because she could not see her father and mother. And Liu's blood would tingle and his heart swell in his chest in the effort to banish from his mind the shadows of those who had cared for him before ever he had seen Pau Tsu.
"I was a little fellow of just about that age when my mother first taught me to kotow to my father and run to greet him when he came into the house," said he, pointing to Little Waking Eyes, who came straggling after them, a kitten in his chubby arms.
"Oh, Liu Venti," replied Pau Tsu, "you are thinking of home—even as I. This morning I thought I heard my mother's voice, calling to me as I have so often heard her on sunny mornings in the Province of the Happy River. She would flutter her fan at me in a way that was peculiarly her own. And my father! Oh, my dear father!"
"Aye," responded Liu Venti. "Our parents loved us, and the love of parents is a good thing. Here, we live in exile, and though we are happy in each other, in our children, and
