When I was about four my feet were bound. You must know that in China the smaller the feet the more a woman is admired. For over a thousand years the custom has been observed, and only a few give it up, even though, as the common saying has it, “For every pair of small feet there has been shed a bucket of tears.” So as my mother wished me to have “little golden lilies,” as they were called, she commenced to bind my feet early. The calendar was consulted for a lucky day (it would never do to commence anything on an unlucky day), and mother brought some strips of calico a few inches wide and several yards long. With these she tightly bound my feet, making them narrow and pointed. At first I went nearly crazy with crying. No one took any notice of it, and mother tried to console me by saying that no one would marry a woman with large feet. She told me that when she was married hers were only two and a half inches long. Day by day the binding was done until I wished I could die and be rid of the pain. Gradually it became less as the feet ceased to grow, and I was able to hobble about the house. But with it all I was much more fortunate than little “Pearl,” my friend next door. They left the binding of her feet until she was nearly eight, and then bound them very tightly. She was only scolded and beaten when she cried, and the pain was so great she nearly died; and when one of her feet got very bad they called in the native doctor. He said it was a demon in her left leg, so they heated needles and poked them in her legs to let the evil spirit out. But she didn’t get better, so they took her to a charm priest some miles away. They couldn’t afford a chair, so little Pearl was forced to walk part of the way. The priest wrote some characters on paper, put them in water, and Pearl drank it. Then they paid a good sum of money and returned. The long walk was too much for Pearl, and she had a long illness, and is now lame. They say it was because she, in her previous life, was a bad man—so she was born again as a woman, and has had all this pain. I have heard that in the mission-schools of the foreigners the girls all have large feet; but I am sure they must look very coarse—and whoever will marry them? Still, I daresay it’s nice to be able to run about without falling. I remember once mother slipped on the ladder going into the loft, and fell, hurting her back; but she didn’t blame her feet. “Little golden lilies make an insecure footing,” says the proverb.