When the father of Chung and Choy returned from the big city where lived
their uncle, he brought each of his little girls a present of a pretty,
painted porcelain cup and saucer. Chung’s was of the blue of the sky
after rain, and on the blue was painted a silver crane and a bird with a
golden breast. Choy’s cup was of a milky pink transparency, upon which
light bouquets of flowers appeared to have been thrown; it was so
beautiful in sight, form, and color that there seemed nothing in it to
be improved upon. Yet was Choy discontented and envied her sister,
Chung, the cup of the blue of the sky after rain. Not that she vented
her feelings in any unseemly noise or word. That was not Choy’s way. But
for one long night and one long day after the pretty cups had been
brought home, did Choy remain mute and still, refusing to eat her meals,
or to move from the couch upon which she had thrown herself at sight of
her sister’s cup. Choy was sulking.
On the evening of the long day, little Chung, seated on her stool by her
mother’s side, asked her parent to tell her the story of the picture on
the vase which her father had brought from the city for her mother. It
was a charming little piece of china of a deep violet velvet color,
fluted on top with gold like the pipes of an organ, and in the centre
was a pagoda enamelled thereon in gold and silver. Chung knew that there
must be a story about that pagoda, for she had overheard her father tell
her mother that it was the famous Crocodile Pagoda.
“There are no crocodiles in the picture. Why is it called a crocodile
pagoda?” asked Chung.
“Listen, my Jes’mine flower,” replied the mother. She raised her voice,
for she wished Choy, her Orchid Flower, also to hear the story.
“Once upon a time, there was a big family of crocodiles that lived in a
Rippling River by a beach whose sands were of gold. The young crocodiles
had a merry life of it, and their father and mother were very good and
kind to them. But one day, the young crocodiles wanted to climb a hill
back of the beach of golden sand, and the parents, knowing that their
children would perish if allowed to have their way, told them: ‘Nay,
nay.’
“The young crocodiles thereupon scooped a large hole in the sand and lay
down therein. For half a moon they lived there, without food or drink,
and when their parents cried to them to come out and sport as before in
the Rippling River, they paid no attention whatever, so sadly sulky
their mood.
“One day there came along a number of powerful beings, who, when they
saw the golden sands of the Rippling River, exclaimed: ‘How gloriously
illuminating is this beach! Let us build a pagoda thereon.’ They saw the
hole which the young crocodiles had made, but they could not see the
hole-makers at the bottom thereof. So they set to work and filled the
hole, and on top thereof they built a great pagoda. That is the pagoda
of the picture on the vase.”
“And did the children crocodiles never get out?” asked Chung in a sad
little voice.
“No, daughter,” replied the mother. “After the pagoda was on top of them
they began to feel very hungry and frightened. It was so dark. They
cried to their father and mother to bring them food and find them a way
to the light; but the parent crocodiles, upon seeing the pagoda arise,
swam far away. They knew that they never more should see their children.
And from that day till now, the young crocodiles have remained in
darkness under the pagoda, shut off forever from the light of the sun
and the Rippling River.”
“Please, honorable mother,” spake a weak little voice, “may I have some
tea in my pretty, pink porcelain cup?”
------------------------------------------------------------------------