walked in the garden. Her eyebrows were arched moon-bridges; her smile so enticing that Loo Siang gazed upon her entranced. One night under the silvery sweep of the moon he took her into his arms. It was a night of dreams and love. Unknown to the Mandarin, they slept in the shadow of a willow tree while all the fragrances of the garden swirled madly about them.
Thereafter, life in that garden was more beautiful than ever. Lari Kim blossomed like an orchid, fed by the warmth of Loo Siang's love. And the years rolled on. Sometimes, reflecting over his lot, Loo Siang became philosophical. The gods had ceased laughing. He was no longer an object for derision.
So five years passed during which time Loo Siang drew not a copper coin for himself, letting his money accumulate until there should be sufficient for him to purchase a garden of his own.
But Zok Tsung, the Mandarin, was a conniving individual. He had no intention of permitting his gardener to leave him and so he summoned Loo Siang. He awaited him in the Room of Porcelain and he had arranged it so that as Loo Siang passed into the room he would cause a supposedly expensive porcelain vase to fall and shatter to pieces. The vase was really of trifling value but the Mandarin was loud in his grief. He bellowed and spat curses at the dazed gardener.
Loo Siang was without guile. It grieved him that anyone should lose a treasure through his carelessness, so he offered to pay for the vase out of his accumulated earnings. At once the Mandarin ceased his lamentations.
"It is but right that you should," he sighed. "Though even that will not reimburse me for my vase, the like of which does not exist in all the world. It is a priceless porcelain, worth many times the wages that are due to you. Nevertheless, I shall accept your offer. Now we are even. You owe me nothing; nor I, you."
And so Loo Siang was again penniless. Five years' savings had vanished with the shattering of a vase. In despair he returned to the garden. The flowers, aware of his grief, glowed more beauteously to distract his attention. The trees held out their branches to shield him from the heat of the sun. That day the voices of the birds were hushed. But in the night, Lari Kim came to him and slept in his arms. And all care slipped from him. When they awakened it was dawn and birds were singing.
Time wore on until twenty years had piled up like a mountain and always the Mandarin saw to it that Loo Siang remained in his debt. But now there were certain orchids developed by Loo Siang that had attained world renown. Merchants came from far and near to purchase them and money flowed into the garden in a golden river. It was then that Loo Siang rebelled. He declared he would produce no more orchids unless he shared in the profits. Reluctantly the Mandarin bowed to his wishes.
"Ten li from the city," he said, "is a large tract of land which I will turn over to you in lieu of wages. It is worth many times what I owe you, but I feel that you should be rewarded for your faithfulness."
Loo Siang accepted the offer with alacrity and said, "I have one last request to make of you."
"Do not hesitate to speak," said the Mandarin, "for I am your friend."
"I wish you would make me a present of the slave, Lari Kim."
The Mandarin meditated. "After all, why not? She is but a broken flower and fast growing old."
"She is magnificent," breathed Loo Siang.
The Mandarin eyed him shrewdly. "You are right," he said. "She has a lovely body. Broadly speaking, age does not ex-
