"
"Alas!" replied Kai Lung, "never was there a truer proverb than that
which says, 'It is a mark of insincerity of purpose to spend one's
time in looking for the sacred Emperor in the low-class tea-shops.' Do
Mandarins or the friends of Mandarins travel in mean garments and
unattended? Indeed, the person who is now before you is none other
than the outcast Kai Lung, the story-teller, one of degraded habits
and no very distinguished or reputable ancestors. His friends are few,
and mostly of the criminal class; his wealth is not more than some six
or eight cash, concealed in his left sandal; and his entire stock-in-
trade consists of a few unendurable and badly told stories, to which,
however, it is his presumptuous intention shortly to add a dignified
narrative of the high-born Lin Yi, setting out his domestic virtues
and the honour which he has reflected upon his house, his valour in
war, the destruction of his enemies, and, above all, his great
benevolence and the protection which he extends to the poor and those
engaged in the distinguished arts."
"The absence of friends is unfortunate," said Lin Yi thoughtfully,
after he had possessed himself of the coins indicated by Kai Lung, and
also of a much larger amount concealed elsewhere among the story-
teller's clothing.
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