CHILDREN OF CHINA “The good man is he who does not lose his child-heart.”--MENCIUS, 371-288 B.C. “What the leaves are to the forest, With light and air for food, Ere their sweet and tender juices Have been hardened into wood. That to the world are children; Through them it feels the glow Of a brighter and sunnier climate That reaches the trunks below. Come to me, O ye children! And whisper in my ear What the birds and the winds are singing In your sunny atmosphere. * * * * * Ye are better than all the ballads That ever were sung or said; For ye are living poems, And all the rest are dead.” LONGFELLOW. [Illustration: THE EMPEROR OF CHINA] CHILDREN OF CHINA BY COLIN CAMPBELL BROWN AUTHOR OF “CHINA IN LEGEND AND STORY” [Illustration] WITH EIGHT COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS OLIPHANTS LTD. LONDON EDINBURGH _Uniform with this Volume_ CHILDREN OF INDIA By JANET HARVEY KELMAN CHILDREN OF CHINA By G. CAMPBELL BROWN CHILDREN OF AFRICA By JAMES B. BAIRD CHILDREN OF ARABIA By JOHN CAMERON YOUNG CHILDREN OF JAMAICA By ISABEL C. MACLEAN CHILDREN OF JAPAN By JANET HARVEY KELMAN CHILDREN OF EGYPT By L. CROWTHER CHILDREN OF CEYLON By THOMAS MOSCROP CHILDREN OF PERSIA By Mrs NAPIER MALCOLM CHILDREN OF LABRADOR By MARY LANE DWIGHT CHILDREN OF SOUTH AMERICA By KATHARINE A. HODGE CHILDREN OF BORNEO By EDWIN H. GOMES, M.A. CHILDREN OF WILD AUSTRALIA By HERBERT PITTS Printed in Great Britain by Turnbull & Spears, Edinburgh Bound by Anderson & Ferrier, St Mary Street, Edinburgh TO ROBIN, MARGERY AND HUGH INTRODUCTORY LETTER MY DEAR BOYS AND GIRLS, There is a nook among the hills in far-away China to which, if only I possessed the famous flying carpet, I should very much like to carry you. To know it properly one ought to find it for oneself upon a day in spring. The road to it runs at the foot of steep hills, on which the grey earth peeps through a threadbare carpet of dry grasses. Above these lower hills the mountain-sides are green, shading into slate-colour and black; and when the sky clouds over, they look dark and angry. The road rounds a corner and passes a wood: a few more steps and the baby valley is in sight. To leave the path and pick your way through some trees is the work of a moment. You reach an open space like a little lawn. Above the lawn is a bank, on which, among shrubs and scattered trees, many flowers are growing.