a feeling that things could be much better, and still be not so good. I wish the Tartars had carried me into captivity astride my own poor lost donkey." For, of course, his donkey was gone again.
With the dawning, His Majesty, The Emperor Ching Tang, entered the village to learn of its losses. He was told that all of the men, save half a dozen, Chueh Chun among them, had been carried off. "Why wasn't such a one taken?" asked the Emperor. He was told: "A cripple for ninety years and a day." "Why wasn't Chueh Chun taken?" asked the Emperor. "Because, Noble Majesty," answered a villager, kneeling three times and knocking his head on the ground thrice with each kneeling, "because, most gracious light of the sun and beauty of the moon, lord of the earth and sea and sky, Chueh Chun was kicked by his own donkey, and I well remember his saying at the time that it was extremely fortunate his leg was broken—a blessing—those were his words. And they were true."
"What say you?" thundered the Emperor.
