Yen hesitated no longer. Grabbing the end of the string of cash, he pulled therefrom three coins, and with a hop and a jump was out in the street again. “I will take three sticks of twisted candy of many colors,” said he to the candy man. With his three sticks of candy Yen returned to the green. He had just bitten a piece off the brightest stick of all when his eyes fell on a spinning top which his mother had given him that morning. He crunched the candy, but somehow or other it did not taste sweet. “Yen! Yen!” called his grandfather, awaking from his sleep. Yen ran across to him. “Honorable grandfather,” said he, “I have some beautiful candy for you!” He put the three sticks of candy upon his grandfather’s knees. “Dear child!” exclaimed the old man, adjusting his spectacles. “How did you come to get the candy?” Yen’s little face became very red. He knew that he had done wrong, so instead of answering his grandfather, he hopped three times. “How did you get the candy?” again inquired Grandfather Chan. “From the candy man,” said Yen, “from the candy man. Eat it, eat it.” Now Grandfather Chan was a little deaf, and taking for granted that Yen had explained the candy all right, he nibbled a little at one of the sticks, then put it down. “Eat some more, eat all, honorable grandfather,” urged Yen. The old man laughed and shook his head. “I cannot eat any more,” said he. “The old man is not the little boy.” “But—but,” puffed Yen, becoming red in the face again, “I want you to eat it, honorable grandfather.” But Grandfather Chan would not eat any more candy, and Yen began to puff and blow and talk very loud because he would not. Indeed, by the time Mother Chan returned, he was as red as a turkeycock and chattering like a little magpie. “I do not know what is the matter with the little boy,” said Grandfather Chan. “He is so vexed because I cannot eat his candy.” Mother Chan glanced at the string of cash and then at her little son’s flushed face. “I know,” said she. “The candy is not sweet to him, so he would have his honorable grandfather eat it.” Yen stared at his mother. How did she know! How could she know! But he was glad that she knew, and at sundown he crept softly to her side and said, “Honorable mother, the string of cash is less than at morn, but the candy, it was not sweet.” THE INFERIOR MAN