young grain shoots, which inclosed a few animated round black dots; these were the farmers at their toil. But Ah Q, having no appreciation for the joys of the farmer, merely strode along. He sensed at once that this scene and his road to a livelihood were two far-divergent things.
Finally he reached the wall of the Temple of Quiet Self-Improvement. The temple was entirely surrounded by watery fields, its whitewashed walls standing out sharply amid the young verdure. Within the earthen wall and to the rear was a vegetable garden. He hesitated for a brief second; then after looking about in all directions and seeing that no one was near, he scrambled up the low wall, holding onto a vine. The mud wall gave way with a rustling sound; his feet trembled and grated against his insecure hold, but in the end he managed to grasp the limb of a mulberry tree and jump into the inclosure.
The area within was one mass of green, but it seemed as if nothing like yellow wine or a bun was at hand, or anything else that was edible. Toward the west wall was a bamboo grove; many shoots protruded above the ground, but it was regrettable that they were as yet uncooked. Besides this, there was rape, which had long ago
