Page:Ernest Bramah - Kai Lungs Golden Hours.djvu/97

 "Proceed, manlet, proceed," said Li-loe, with a final probe among the surrounding rocks before selecting one to lean against. "Yet if this person could but lay his hand"

To Wong Pao, the merchant, pleasurably immersed in the calculation of an estimated profit on a junk-load of birds'-nests, sharks' fins and other seasonable delicacies, there came a distracting interruption occasioned by a wandering poet who had sat down within the shade provided by Wong Pao's ornamental gate in the street outside. As he reclined there he sang ballads of ancient valour, from time to time beating a hollow wooden duck in unison with his voice, so that the charitable should have no excuse for missing the entertainment.

Unable any longer to continue his occupation, Wong Pao struck an iron gong.

"Bear courteous greetings to the accomplished musician outside our gate," he said to the slave who had appeared, "and convince him—by means of a heavily-weighted club if necessary—that the situation he has taken up is quite unworthy of his incomparable efforts."

When the slave returned it was with an entire absence of the enthusiasm of one who has succeeded in an enterprise.

"The distinguished mendicant outside disarmed the one who is relating the incident by means of an unworthy stratagem, and then struck him repeatedly