folded his arms across his chest and bowed. Then, mounting the platform, he sang the "Dirge of the White Horse." When it was over, confident of an easy victory, he glared round him, as if to imply that his opponents had all vanished. He was applauded on every side and was himself convinced that his talents were a unique product of the age and could not possibly be called into question.
After a while the undertaker of the east put together some benches in the north corner of the square, and a young man in a black hat came forward, attended by five assistants and carrying a bunch of hearse-plumes in his hand. It was the young man of our story.
He adjusted his clothes, looked timidly up and down, and then cleared his throat and began his tune with an air of great diffidence.
He sang the dirge "Dew on the Garlic."[1] His voice rose so shrill and clear that "its echoes shook the forest trees." Before he had finished the first verse, all who heard were sobbing and hiding their tears.
When the performance was over, every one made fun of the western undertaker, and he was so much put out that he immediately removed his exhibits and retired from the contest. The audience was amazed by the collapse of the western undertaker and could not imagine where his rival had procured so remarkable a singer.
It happened that the Emperor had recently issued an order commanding the governors of outside provinces to confer with him at the capital at least once a year.
At this time the young man's father, who was governor of Ch'ang-chou, had recently arrived at the capital to make his report. Hearing of the competition, he and some of
- ↑ See p, 58, "170 Chinese Poems," Alfred A. Knopf, 1919.
