Knowing this to be his invariable
practice, it was with emotions of an agreeable curiosity that on the
seventh day of the month of Winged Dragons those persons who were
passing from place to place in the city beheld this young man, Yang
Hu, descending the mountain path with unmistakable signs of profound
agitation, and an entire absence of prudent care. Following him
closely to the inner square of the city, on the continually expressed
plea that they themselves had business in that quarter, these persons
observed Yang Hu take up a position of unendurable dejection as he
gazed reproachfully at the figure of the all-knowing Buddha which
surmounted the Temple where it was his custom to sacrifice.
"Alas!" he exclaimed, lifting up his voice, when it became plain that
a large number of people was assembled awaiting his words, "to what
end does a person strive in this excessively evilly-regulated
district? Or is it that this obscure and ill-destined one alone is
marked out as with a deep white cross for humiliation and ruin?
Father, and Sacred Temple of Ancestral Virtues, wherein the meanest
can repose their trust, he has none; while now, being more destitute
than the beggar at the gate, the hope of honourable marriage and a
robust family of sons is more remote than the chance of finding the
miracle-working Crystal Image which marks the last footstep of the
Pure One.
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