Nevertheless he drew himself up from the road to the level of the wood and there reclined, yet not permitting the wheel-barrow to pass beyond his sight, though he must thereby lie half in the shade and half in the heat beyond.  “Greeting, wayfarer.”

“Although you are evidently a man of some wealth, we are for the time brought to a common level by the forces that control us,” remarked Kai Lung.  “I have here two onions, a gourd and a sufficiency of millet paste.  Partake equally with me, therefore, before you resume your way.  In the meanwhile I will procure water from the stream near by, and to this end my collecting bowl will serve.”

When Kai Lung returned he found that the other had added to their store a double handful of dates, some snuff and a little jar of oil.  As they ate together the stranger thus disclosed his mind: 

“The times are doubtful and it behoves each to guard himself.  In the north the banners of the ‘Spreading Lotus’ and the ‘Avenging Knife’ are already raised and pressing nearer every day, while the signs and passwords are so widely flung that every man speaks slowly and with a double tongue.  Lately there have been slicings and other forms of vigorous justice no farther distant than Loo-chow, and now the Mandarin Shan Tien comes to Yu-ping to flatten any signs of discontent.  The occupation of this person is that of a maker of sandals and coverings for the head, but very soon there will be more wooden feet required than leather sandals in Yu-ping, and artificial ears will be greater in demand than hats.  For this reason he has got together all his goods, sold the more burdensome, and now ventures on an untried way.”

“Prosperity attend your goings.  Yet, as one who has set his face towards Yu-ping, is it not possible for an ordinary person of simple life and unassuming aims to escape persecution under this same Shan Tien?”

“Of the Mandarin himself those who know speak with vague lips.  What is done is done by the pressing hand of one Ming-shu, who takes down his spoken word; of whom it is truly said that he has little resemblance to a man and still less to an angel.”

“Yet,” protested the story-teller hopefully, “it is wisely written:  ’He who never opens his mouth in strife can always close his eyes in peace.’”

“Doubtless,” assented the other.  “He can close his eyes assuredly.  Whether he will ever again open them is another matter.”

With this timely warning the sandal-maker rose and prepared to resume his journey.  Nor did he again take up the burden of his task until he had satisfied himself that the westward road was destitute of traffic.

“A tranquil life and a painless death,” was his farewell parting.  “Jung, of the line of Hai, wishes you well.”  Then, with many imprecations on the relentless sun above, the inexorable road beneath, and on every detail of the evilly-balanced load before him, he passed out on his way.