One drawback to all his virtues there had to be, of course. He had told me, as the months passed and he still remained with us, that his friends in Chinatown were much surprised; for, he said, looking intently at me, he was called “Clazey Jim,” and had never stayed long anywhere. This made us a little uneasy, though nothing could have been more reassuring and sane than his usual cheery, diligent ways. But once or twice he did alarm me slightly, when he would launch out about his hopes of some day becoming a Buddhist priest, when he should have saved enough money to take as an offering to the priesthood. In speaking of this he became quite excited, joining his hands together as though in prayer and raising them above his head, turning up his eyes, and telling me all kinds of wonderful legends about miracles that had happened to believers in Buddha. He was quite embarrassingly generous. When he went into town for a holiday, he would return in high spirits. He was always in a perfect fever to get his bundle of purchases undone and to show us all he had bought. He would drag out a small pair of embroidered shoes for himself and show them to us; then perhaps a silk jacket or a tasselled girdle, such as they wear round the waist. Always, too, there were boxes and bottles of uncanny-looking medicine, of which he generally took several doses indiscriminately on the spot to prove to us how strong was his faith in their virtue; then, with a flourish, he would bring out a dainty parcel and hand it to me with a kind little word, and some curiosity for the boys, or often a piece of pretty porcelain for the house. It was too much, but we did not know how to stop it. His delight over all this was quite pathetic. So far in our experiences he is the only lovable Chinaman we have come across, and he proved to be out of his mind! For seven months all went well, however, and we felt that the five dollars a month extra in wage was money well spent for such comfort and order; then the friendly, kindly spirit of our little Wing Long seemed to cloud over, and we determined to send him away for a rest and a holiday. We still did not understand what was amiss. He was to leave us the following morning, and had installed Chong Woh as _locum tenens_, when that night a violent opium frenzy seized him, giving us all a good fright, and keeping us awake and on the watch most of the night, lest he should set fire to the house or carry out some other mad freak. In the morning he seemed quite sane, and painfully humble and broken-spirited. There was nothing for it, however, but that he must go. We had heard too much about the opium habit among Chinamen to dream of trying to overcome it. We heard, too, from Chong Woh that Wing had been in the asylum several times; so it seemed a hopeless business.