What time it strikes the cold, it's first joyful to smile at the east wind.

When its spirit to the Yu Ling hath flown, 'tis hard to say 'tis spring.

The russet clouds across the 'Lo Fu' lie, so e'en to dreams it's closed.

The green petals add grace to a coiffure, when painted candles burn.

The simple elf when primed with wine doth the waning rainbow bestride.

Does its appearance speak of a colour of ordinary run?

Both dark and light fall of their own free will into the ice and snow.

The next was the production of Li Wen, and its burden was:

To write on the white plum I'm not disposed, but I'll write on the red.

Proud of its beauteous charms, 'tis first to meet the opening drunken eye.

On its frost-nipped face are marks; and these consist wholly of blood.

Its heart is sore, but no anger it knows; to ashes too it turns.

By some mistake a pill (a fairy) takes and quits her real frame.

From the fairyland pool she secret drops, and casts off her old form.

In spring, both north and south of the river, with splendour it doth bloom.

Send word to bees and b.u.t.terflies that they need not give way to fears!

This stanza came next from the pen of Hsueh Pao-ch'in,

Far distant do the branches grow; but how beauteous the blossom blooms!

The maidens try with profuse show to compete in their spring head-dress.

No snow remains on the vacant pavilion and the tortuous rails.

Upon the running stream and desolate hills descend the russet clouds.

When cold prevails one can in a still dream follow the la.s.s-blown fife.

The wandering elf roweth in fragrant spring, the boat in the red stream.

In a previous existence, it must sure have been of fairy form.

No doubt need 'gain arise as to its beauty differing from then.

The perusal over, they spent some time in heaping, smiling the while, eulogiums upon the compositions. And they pointed at the last stanza as the best of the lot; which made it evident to Pao-yu that Pao-ch'in, albeit the youngest in years, was, on the other hand, the quickest in wits.

Tai-yu and Hsiang-yun then filled up a small cup with wine and simultaneously offered their congratulations to Pao-ch'in.

"Each of the three stanzas has its beauty," Pao-ch'ai remarked, a smile playing round her lips. "You two have daily made a fool of me, and are you now going to fool her also?"

"Have you got yours ready?" Li Wan went on to inquire of Pao-yu.

"I'd got them," Pao-yu promptly answered, "but the moment I read their three stanzas, I once more became so nervous that they quite slipped from my mind. But let me think again."

Hsiang-yun, at this reply, fetched a copper poker, and, while beating on the hand-stove, she laughingly said: "I shall go on tattooing. Now mind if when the drumming ceases, you haven't accomplished your task, you'll have to bear another fine."

"I've already got them!" Pao-yu rejoined, smilingly.

Tai-yu then picked up a pencil. "Recite them," she smiled, "and I'll write them down."

Hsiang-yun beat one stroke (on the stove). "The first tattoo is over,"

she laughed.

"I'm ready," Pao-yu smiled. "Go on writing."

At this, they heard him recite:

The wine bottle is not opened, the line is not put into shape.

Tai-yu noted it down, and shaking her head, "They begin very smoothly,"

she said, as she smiled.

"Be quick!" Hsiang-yun again urged.

Pao-yu laughingly continued:

To fairyland I speed to seek for spring, and the twelfth moon to find.

Tai-yu and Hsiang-yun both nodded. "It's rather good," they smiled.

Pao-yu resumed, saying:

I will not beg the high G.o.d for a bottle of the (healing) dew, But pray Shuang O to give me some plum bloom beyond the rails.

Tai-yu jotted the lines down and wagged her head to and fro. "They're ingenious, that's all," she observed.

Hsiang-yun gave another rap with her hand.

Pao-yu thereupon smilingly added:

I come into the world and, in the cold, I pick out some red snow.

I leave the dusty sphere and speed to pluck the fragrant purple clouds.

I bring a jagged branch, but who in pity sings my shoulders thin?

On my clothes still sticketh the moss from yon Buddhistic court.

As soon as Tai-yu had done writing, Hsiang-yun and the rest of the company began to discuss the merits of the verses; but they then saw several servant-maids rush in, shouting: "Our venerable mistress has come."

One and all hurried out with all despatch to meet her. "How comes it that she is in such good cheer?" every one also laughed.

Speaking the while, they discerned, at a great distance, their grandmother Chia seated, enveloped in a capacious wrapper, and rolled up in a warm hood lined with squirrel fur, in a small bamboo sedan-chair with an open green silk glazed umbrella in her hand. Yuan Yang, Hu Po and some other girls, mustering in all five or six, held each an umbrella and pressed round the chair, as they advanced.

Li Wan and her companions went up to them with hasty step; but dowager lady Chia directed the servants to make them stop; explaining that it would be quite enough if they stood where they were.

On her approach, old lady Chia smiled. "I've given," she observed, "your Madame w.a.n.g and that girl Feng the slip and come. What deep snow covers the ground! For me, I'm seated in this, so it doesn't matter; but you mustn't let those ladies trudge in the snow."

The various followers rushed forward to take her wrapper and to support her, and as they did so, they expressed their acquiescence.

As soon as she got indoors old lady Chia was the first to exclaim with a beaming face: "What beautiful plum blossom! You well know how to make merry; but I too won't let you off!"

But in the course of her remarks, Li Wan quickly gave orders to a domestic to fetch a large wolf skin rug, and to spread it in the centre, so dowager lady Chia made herself comfortable on it. "Just go on as before with your romping and joking, drinking and eating," she then laughed. "As the days are so short, I did not venture to have a midday siesta. After therefore playing at dominoes for a time, I bethought myself of you people, and likewise came to join the fun."

Li Wan soon also presented her a hand-stove, while T'an Ch'un brought an extra set of cups and chopsticks, and filling with her own hands, a cup with warm wine, she handed it to her grandmother Chia. Old lady Chia swallowed a sip. "What's there in that dish?" she afterwards inquired.

The various inmates hurriedly carried it over to her, and explained that 'they were pickled quails.'