fish, sea shells, "ch'a"—but they seemed to be blocked by something, so that they whirled around in my brain and could not find expression.
He stood before me with an expression of mixed joy and sadness. His lips moved but no sound came. When he did manage to speak it was formal and respectful: "Your Honor . . . "
I must have shuddered as I realized what a heavy, sorrowful wall had come between us. I found nothing to say.
"Come, Shui-sheng, and kowtow to His Honor," he said to a boy that he dragged out from behind him. The child was the image of Yun-t'u twenty years ago, except that he was thinner and more sallow and had no silver ring about his neck. "He is my fifth, has never been away from home and so he is very shy."
My mother and Hung-erh now came down, probably having heard the visitors.
"Lao-tai-tai," Yun-t'u said, "I received your message and I was very happy to hear that His Honor had come back."
"But why so formal?" my mother protested. "Didn't you use to call one another brother? Do as before, call him Brother Hsun."
"Aiya, how kind you are! But that won't do. It might have been all right then. I was only a boy and did not know any better." Yun-t'u again tried to induce his son to come forward and greet my mother, but the boy hid closely behind his back.
"Is that Shui-sheng? Isn't he the fifth one? With so many strangers around no wonder he is shy. Let him go with Hung-erh," mother said.
At this Hung-erh went up to Shui-sheng and the latter readily went with him. Mother bade Yun-t'u sit down,
