Said one Sung Sung to another, looking towards this forest: “One might as well search for a pin at the bottom of the ocean as search for the children there. Besides, it is haunted with evil spirits.” “A-ya, A-ya, A-ya!” cried the other, “Oh, what will my master and mistress say if I return home without Little Sleeping Eyes, who is the golden plum of their hearts?” “And what will my master and mistress do to me if I enter their presence without Little Waking Eyes? I verily believe that the sun shines for them only when he is around.” For over an hour the two distracted servants walked up and down the beach, calling the names of their little charges; but there was no response. IV Thy grandson—the beloved of my heart, is lost, is lost! Go forth, old man, and find him.” Liu Jusong, who had just returned from the Hall, where from morn till eve he adjusted the scales of justice, stared speechlessly at the old lady who had thus accosted him. The loss of his grandson he scarcely realized; but that his humble spouse had suddenly become his superior officer, surprised him out of his dignity. “What meaneth thy manner?” he bewilderedly inquired. “It meaneth,” returned the old lady, “that I have borne all I can bear. Thy grandson is lost through thy fault. Go, find him!” “How my fault? Surely, thou art demented!” “Hadst thou not hated Li Wang, Little Waking Eyes and Little Sleeping Eyes could have played together in our own grounds or within the compound of Li Wang. But this is no time to discourse on spilt plums. Go, follow Li Wang in the search for thy grandsons. I hear that he has already left for the place where the stupid thorns who had them in charge, declare they disappeared.” The old lady broke down. “Oh, my little Bright Eyes! Where art thou wandering?” she wailed. Liu Jusong regarded her sternly. “If my enemy,” said he, “searcheth for my grandsons, then will not I.” With dignified step he passed out of the room. But in the hall was a child’s plaything. His glance fell upon it and his expression softened. Following the servants despatched by his wife, the old mandarin joined in the search for Little Waking Eyes and Little Sleeping Eyes. * * * * * Under the quiet stars they met—the two old men who had quarrelled in student days and who ever since had cultivated hate for each other. The cause of their quarrel had long been forgotten; but in the fertile soil of minds irrigated with the belief that the superior man hates well and long, the seed of hate had germinated and flourished. Was it not because of that hate that their children were exiles from the homes of their fathers—those children who had met in a foreign land, and in spite of their fathers’ hatred, had linked themselves in love. They spread their fans before their faces, each pretending not to see the other, while their servants inquired: “What news of the honorable little ones?”