Page:Leaves from my Chinese Scrapbook - Balfour, 1887.djvu/204

 attendants cleared away the mess they had made, and sauntered slowly towards the gate. Tsiu was in an agony of fear lest they should commit further depredations, and took care to walk between them and the flower-beds. Chang, however, went on ahead, and soon began to climb a piece of rockwork to pick some flowers that had struck his fancy. The old man rushed after him in terror. "Although these flowers are but useless trifles," he panted, "your worship cannot think how much labour is required in the course of a year to produce as many as you see; is it not a grievous pity to spoil them so? If you pick them, they will fade in two days at the very farthest; why should your worship do such mischief?"

"Pooh!" bawled Chang roughly; "what mischief am I doing, pray? You are going to sell me the whole affair to-morrow; so, you see, your flowers are virtually mine now. Supposing I were to pull every one of them up by the roots, what business would it be of yours?"

Then he made as though to thrust Tsiu away; but the old gentleman stood his ground manfully, saying, "You may kill me if you like, for I am but an old man; but you shall not pick my flowers."

"This is a most abominable old fellow," struck in the parasites. "His worship has but taken a few worthless buds; what does he mean by kicking up such a row about it? Do you think, Sir, that you are going to frighten us away?"

Then they all made a general rush upon the flowers, picking them by scores, and throwing them in shocking confusion upon the ground. The poor old fellow's rage was inexpressible; his cries of anguish rose to heaven. He relinquished his hold of Chang, and risked his life in