The Frog
When Pu Chiang grew tired one of his companions took up the delectable task. It was extremely pleasant to beat the helpless little Frog-man with bamboo. But not long did he continue without interruption for there suddenly appeared a maiden of jewel-like beauty upon the silent hilltop. The rays of the moon spun about her like a web, making her slender body fairly glow. She was dressed in a costume of silver, so brilliant that it seemed to be made of star-dust. Her face was beautiful and her blue hair blended into the blue of the sky. Her lips were red like crushed cherries and an elusive perfume floated on the air about her. She stopped as she reached the side of the little Frog-man. As she did so the wielder of the bamboo switch stepped back in awe. Never had he beheld beauty comparable to this, not even in a sunset or a flower. Softly she stooped over the little moaning man. She lifted his head into her lap and pressed her gorgeous lips to his.
"Little Fu Hsi," she whispered, "little keeper of my garden."
He sighed softly, sighed in ecstasy. Forgotten was the torture he had been through. For the lovely lady was bending over him and her breath was mingling with his.
She helped him to his feet and hand in hand they walked off toward the moon. Pu Chiang and his companions gazed upon them entranced. They marveled that they had ever thought the little Frog-man ugly. On that clear night on the hilltop they saw the real
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