THE PEN
7
before tlie jade jar designs. Then he
took a small dagger from his belt.
Carefully he chipped away the ivory
bits that made the seal.
A moment, just a moment, he hes
itated before eagerly lifting the god’s
head, whieh formed the eover. With
a soft cry, he fell back on the cush
ion and gazed expectantly at the jar.
A pugent whiff of perfume, grow
ing ever stronger, filled the room. It
stirred a thousand emotions within
tlie boy, who sank low among his
cushions. Ilis awed eyes saw a pale
light which seemed to come from
tlie depths of the jar, forming a halo
about the top. As he watched, fasci
nated, it grew brighter, until it seem
ed as if a yellow flood of molten
gold, had been poured into the room.
An articulate muttering, like distant
tliunder, mundiling ominously, came,
to his ears. The dark blue draperies
Iiad changed to bIo')d red, and tlie
yellow shower from tlie jar emeshed
the room like a web.
A blare of brass, crashing cymbals
mingling with discordant notes and
a gold figure leajit from the jar in
a sinister revel of golden green
3old ! Shimmering, glittering, shin
hig witli malign radiance! Selfisl
incarnate!
Suddenly tlie bov was conscious of
a pounding and bellowing like a
wounded forest animal.
Terrified, be realized it was his
grandfather, just as Hok-su-min
rushed into the room. Enraged, the
j)hilosopher neither lieeded the exotic
])erfume emanating from the jade
jar nor did he see the gold figure.
He was consumed by hatred of the
grandson who had dared to steal his
key and enter his sacred Blue Room.
Tlie air in ti e room choked and nau
seated him. He felt stifled and weak.
In a paroxysm of fury he thrust his
arm through the great glass window.
Immediately the atmosphere clear
ed. The strange perfume grew faint
er and commenced to dissolve. The
music reached a wild crescendo and
began a reeling descent. The yollow
mist grew thinner and floated
tlirough the open window-only a per
fume vision fading at the onslaught
of air!
Nun Li cowered among his cush
ions, his eyes wide with wonder and
fright. Suddenly lie saw the gold
creature seem to pour itself like mol
ten gold across the room, slipping
toward the broken window. With a
loud cry, lie struggled to his feet
and stumbled forward grasping
franticalh’ at the gold mist as it
floated silently past him. Stretching
his arms madly, he leaned far out of
the window, so far that he lost his
balance and fell. Down, down, down,
dropped his body until it was re
ceived into the waiting river below.
Calm now, Hok-su-min remained
quietl}' by the window looking up at
the stars. His anger had vanished—
floated away witli the pale mist of
perfume. Hok-su-min was a great
philosopher. Throughout China his
fame had spread, and numerous le
gends were told of him. He had de
voted long years to study and to pro
found meditation. All his life had
been a pathway reaching to a great
finale — a golden hour — when he
should see all the beauty and of ages
past. Yet tliat hour had come and
gone without his knowing it, for in
that supreme time his hate had quite
out-weighed his love. He had let
beauty go past unknowingly.
Hok-su-min cried softly. He mov
ed gently through the silken halls
and returned to the Scarlet Room.
“Life,” he reflected, “is very
strange.’’ And he poured himself of
jasmine'scented tea.