"Chuang sauntered on. At length, on looking round, He spied a cozy-looking burial-ground; 'I'll turn in here and rest a bit,' thought he, 'And muse awhile on life's uncertainty; This quiet place just suits my pensive mood, I'll sit and moralize in pleasant solitude.' So, sitting down upon a grassy knoll, He sighed--when all at once upon him stole A smothered sound of sorrow and distress, As if one wept in very bitterness. "Mr. Chuang, hearing this, at once got up to see, Who the sorrowing mourner could possibly be, When he saw a young woman _fanning a grave_. Her 'three-inch gold lilies'[29] were bandaged up tight In the deepest of mourning--her clothes, too, were white.[30] Of all the strange things he had read of or heard, This one was by far the most strange and absurd; He had never heard tell of one _fanning a grave_. "He stood looking on at this queer scene of woe, Unobserved, but astounded, and curious to know The reason the woman was _fanning the grave_. He thought, in this case, the best thing he could do Was to ask her himself; so without more ado, He hemmed once or twice, then bowing his head, Advanced to the woman and smilingly said, 'May I ask, madam, why you are _fanning that grave_?' "The woman, on this, glancing up with surprise, Looked as though she could scarcely believe her own eyes, When she saw a man watching her _fanning the grave_. He was handsome, and might have been thirty or more; The garb of a Taoist he tastefully wore; His kind manner soon put her quite at her ease, So she answered demurely, 'Listen, sir, if you please, And I'll tell you the reason I'm _fanning this grave_. "'My husband, alas! whom I now (_sob_, _sob_) mourn, A short time since (_sob_) to this grave (_sob_) was borne; And (_sob_) he lies buried in this (_sob_, _sob_) grave.' (Here she bitterly wept.) 'Ere my (_sob_) husband died, He called me (_sob_) once more (_sob_, _sob_) to his side, And grasping my--(_sob_) with his dying lips said, "When I'm gone (_sob_, _sob_) promise (_sob_) never to wed, _Till the mold is_ (sob) _dry on the top of my grave_." "'I come hither daily to (_sob_) and to weep, For the promise I gave (_sob_) I'll faithfully keep, _I'll not wed till the mold is_ (sob) _dry on his grave_. I don't want to marry again (_sob_), I'm sure, But poverty (_sob_) is so hard to endure; And, oh! I'm so lonely, that I come (_sob_) to try _If I can't with my fan help the mold_ (sob) _to dry_; _And that is the reason I'm fanning his grave_.'