Only the seventh, the fair spinning maid could not find her red robe and was forced to stay behind
"It is because of your goodness to me, master," the water cow added, "that I tell you the secret of this Spinning Maid. You must hide her red robe, that one by yonder stone. Without it she cannot fly back to the sky. She will have to remain here on the earth and you may be able to marry her."
The Cowherd did as the animal bade him, and when the seven fair maids had finished their swimming, six put on their robes and rode away to the sky on the backs of white cranes. Only the seventh, the fair Spinning Maid, could not find her red robe and was forced to stay behind. But the Spinning Maid was not unhappy. She found the young Cowherd so handsome, so kind, and so good that she gladly consented to remain on earth as his wife. And they lived together as sweetly as two doves in a nest.
For three years nothing happened to disturb them. Two beautiful children brought light to their household, and under their roof love and joy reigned. But in the Heavenly Kingdom no soft silken garments came from the loom which the Spinning Maid left behind her. None of her sisters could spin such fine silk nor weave such smooth cloth.
When the Empress of Heaven discovered this fact she sent a messenger to earth to bid the Spinning Maid return to her sky loom, and one day the cowherd came home from the fields to find his wife gone. He was sad and he wept, and as he tended his water cow he told her his troubles.
"Do not be sad, O my kind master," the water cow said. "My end is near. In a few days my spirit will go to the Shadowy World. When that time comes, you must strip off my hide and wrap yourself in it. Then I myself will take you to join your dear Spinning Maid up in the sky."
It happened just so. Hardly had the Cowherd wrapped himself in the hide than he felt himself rising into the air. Up, up, up, he went, and he did not stop until he had come to the palace of his dear wife, the Spinning Maid.
How happy they were to be together again! The Spinning Maid was so glad to see her Cowherd that she forgot all about her spinning wheel and her loom. For days they lay idle, and when the Empress of Heaven saw this she again became angry. With her silver hairpin she drew a line across the sky, which straightway became the River of Stars that cuts the heavens in two.
The Lings believed that the Silver River flowed down from the sky onto the earth, where it became the muddy stream called the Huang Ho. This name means Yellow River. The Old Old One explained that the silver color of the heavenly stream turned to yellow as soon as it touched the ground.
"Since the Spinning Maid cannot keep to her loom when the Cowherd is with her, they must dwell apart. She shall live on one side, he on the other side, of this Heavenly River," the angry Empress declared. And she changed the Spinning Maid and her husband into two twinkling stars. Grandmother Ling often showed the children the Spinning Maid's star on one side of the Silver River and on the other side, across the band of white light, the star of the Cowherd. She also pointed out two tiny stars not far away which she said might be their two children.
After they had been so cruelly parted, tears never ceased falling from the eyes of the Spinning Maid and smiles never came to the face of the good Cowherd. The Emperor of Heaven was sad at the sight of such great un-happiness and he decided to help them.
"It can do no harm for these lovers to meet once a year," he said to the Empress. "On each Seventh Day of each Seventh Moon let them come together once more."
Reluctantly the Empress gave her consent. But she provided no bridge by which the Spinning Maid might cross the broad silver stream. It was the kind magpies from the earth who took pity upon her. They gathered together from all parts of the world and flew up to the sky. Each bird grasped the feathers of one of the others in his strong beak. The magpies packed themselves so tightly together that they made a bridge quite strong enough to bear the weight of the Spinning Maid as she ran across to the Cowherd.
Ah Shung and Yu Lang would have been surprised indeed to find a magpie in their garden on the Seventh Day of the Seventh Moon. They were always sure that by midday these noisy birds had flown up to heaven to make their bridge. Perhaps it was because this kind deed of the magpie brought such happiness to the Heavenly Lovers that in China such birds are called "birds of joy," and that their singing is a sign of good luck to come.
Yu Lang had been taught to say, on this day each year, a little prayer for fair weather. Her grandmother explained that if it should rain the Silver River would rise and wash away the bridge of birds. Then the Spinning Maid would have to wait for twelve long moons more before she could see her beloved Cowherd.
The women inside the red gate of the Lings always celebrated the day of the Spinning Maid. They considered her the Goddess of Weaving, and they looked to her for help in making smooth silk cloth on their looms and in setting fine stitches in their embroideries. The women and girls of the family set bowls of water out in the courtyard where the sun could shine full upon it. In these little bowls tiny needles, light as a feather, floated on top of the clear water. Exactly at midday the women peered anxiously into their bowls. By the shapes of the shadows cast by their needles they told their own fortunes, and they thought in this way they could find out whether they would have good luck with their needlework during the year.
The girls also had searched their courtyard for spider webs. They were delighted when they found a perfect one outside one of their windows, for they thought it a sign that they would do well with their handiwork.
"The feast we have made tonight for the Spinning Maid is a poor thing compared with those during the reigns of the ancient Emperors," said the Old Old One. "I have been reading how one Empress had towers covered with silk, a thousand feet high, built up toward the heavens. On top of these silken towers fair maidens played lutes and sang for the pleasure of the Heavenly Lovers. And in the moonlight they held contests to see which of the princesses could most quickly thread needles, each of which had nine eyes."
"Our moon is bright. May we not try a needle contest ourselves, Lao Lao?" asked Ah Shung's older sister who prided herself on her skill in embroidery. The Old Mistress sent her maid to bring needles and thread. Each woman and each girl, even little Yu Lang, held her needle in one hand and her thread in the other. There was much merriment as they tried to put the silk through the needle eyes in the dim light of the night. Everyone shouted and clapped when Yu Lang held her threaded needle out before all the rest.
"Oh, that was well done, Jade Flower," the Old Old One said, patting the little girl on the shoulder. "Now if we had only the strong breezes of autumn we could also try the truth of our saying, 'It is easier to thread needles by moonlight than to hold a thread straight when the wind blows.'"
XXIII
THE LOST STAR PRINCESS
AFTER the needle contest everyone sat silent for a time, looking up at the stars that twinkled in the sky above the Garden of Sweet Smells. The eldest son of the old woman was first to break the silence. He pointed with his fan to a cluster of specially large stars and then touched Ah Shung on the arm.
"How many bright stars do you see just there, Little Bear?" he said to his son. The boy counted carefully.
"I see six," he replied.
"Six is correct," said his father, "but once there were seven stars in that group. Our honored Lao Lao knows what has become of the seventh one which is now not among them. I have heard her tell the tale often, but I should greatly enjoy hearing her repeat it for you. " The dignified man in his gown of softly rustling silk made a polite little bow toward his old mother. Even in cozy family meetings like this he was careful to keep all the rules of behavior for a good son.
"Yes, it is well that the young should know the wonders of ancient times, my son, and gladly will I tell them the story of the lost Star Princess," the old woman said, moving her round silken fan backward and forward.
"Thousands upon thousands of years gone by, my heart's jewels," she began, "there lived a good old man whose name was Sing Wu. No money had he, no h
ouse to live in, and only a few rags to cover his body. So poor was Sing Wu that he had to knock on the drums at the gates of the rich and beg his food from them. But we are fed from heaven, my children, and there was always someone with a generous heart to put rice into his bowl.
"Each night this poor beggar took shelter upon the steps of the great temple that stood on a hill, for he hoped that the good people who came there to pray would take pity upon him. And whenever a coin fell into his outstretched hand he would buy with it rice which he shared with other beggars more hungry than he.
"Now Yu Huang, the Jade Emperor of the Heavenly Kingdom, looked down on Sing Wu and not one of the poor man's acts of kindness escaped his all-seeing eye. One day Yu Huang decided that the time had come to reward so good a man, and he sent a heavenly messenger to summon Su Chee the youngest of his daughters, the seven Star Princesses.
"'O daughter whom I love as I love my right hand,' the Jade Emperor said, 'I am about to send you on a journey. It will be long and it will be hard. You will have to leave your comfortable place here in the sky, but you will gain pleasure from a good deed well done and you will not be sorry.'
"'Speak, Glorious One, speak! Your daughter only waits your shining words,' said the Star Princess, Su Chee.
"'On the steps of the temple that stands on the hill in the City of Sweet Peace there dwells a beggar whose name is Sing Wu. He is old. He is poor. You will find him in rags. But in all the years of his life he has never done wrong.'
"'When the night falls you must leave the heavens. You must go down on the earth and seek out Sing Wu. You will find him lost in a deep slumber which I have sent down upon him. Wake him. Give him youth. Give him riches. Dress him in silks and take him for your husband. And, best beloved of all my star daughters, if you do your duty well, at the end of twelve moons I shall send for you to return to your place in the heavens.'
"Swift as the lightning, Su Chee sped down to earth. Those who were awake on that night thought that all the stars were falling from the dome of the sky, for hundreds of star maidens accompanied Su Chee on the first stage of her journey. And the temple on the hill in the City of Sweet Peace was flooded with light.
"On the white stone temple steps Su Chee found the good beggar sound asleep. Gently she laid her hand on his shoulder and softly she spoke to him, 'Wake, Sing Wu, wake! Your bride awaits you. See, I am ready to eat our wedding rice and to drink our wedding cup.'
"Sing Wu rubbed his eyes. 'Who mocks poor Sing Wu?' he cried. 'What fair maiden is this that would marry a beggar with no home but these hard steps and no rice in his eating bowl? Where would a beggar find wine for a wedding?'
"'Rise, Sing Wu,' said the Star Princess. 'All that is changed. Now you are young. Now you are rich. The Jade Emperor, Yu Huang, himself has sent you these gifts because you have been such a good man.'
"The beggar jumped to his feet. He thought he must be dreaming, for he found indeed that he felt as strong and as lively as when he was young. His rags had turned into silken garments as fine as those of the richest men in all the great city.
"And so they were married, my children, the good temple beggar and the lovely Star Princess. For nearly twelve moons Sing Wu and Su Chee dwelt together in happiness in a rich house with many courts and the finest of furnishings.
"But one afternoon, as the Star Princess gathered flowers in her garden, a powerful mandarin who lived in the neighboring household looked over the wall. He was so struck by her beauty that he could think of nothing else. He wrote poems about her skin which he said was more fair than the moonlight, about her black eyes that were shaped like the almond seed, and about her wee feet so like the lily buds.
"This wicked man vowed that if he could not have Su Chee for his wife he would pray the Jade Emperor to send so much rain from the sky that it would drown all the people in the City of Sweet Peace. He dared even to call upon Sing Wu himself and proposed to exchange his own wife for Su Chee. He offered to give Sing Wu so much money that it could never be counted. Sing Wu was angry, and he quickly ordered the wicked mandarin out of his courts.
"But when Su Chee heard of the mandarin's visit she was not angry at all. 'It would be far better for you to accept the mandarin's money,' she said to Sing Wu, who gaped at her in amazement. 'Wait, my husband, do not speak, and I will tell you how that may be. I am no earthly woman. I am a Star Princess, the daughter of the great Jade Emperor himself. I belong in the heavens with my sisters, the stars, and there I must return within just a few days. Yu Huang has sent for me.'
"'Go to the mandarin,' the Star Princess continued, 'agree to his plan and be not afraid. He shall not wed me even though I enter his gate as a bride.'
"Sing Wu was sad at the thought of losing his beloved Star Princess. But he thought to himself, 'If she is indeed the daughter of the Heavenly Emperor, I suppose it cannot be helped.' So he made all the arrangements and the last day of the twelfth moon of Su Chee's stay upon earth was chosen as the lucky time for her arrival at the mandarin's gate.
"Such preparations as the mandarin made for her coming! Musicians from five cities, the best cooks in the empire, and hundreds of guests all were assembled. The walls were hung with the finest embroideries and paintings, and the gardens were ablaze with flowers from all parts of the land.
"But when Su Chee's red sedan chair was set down inside the mandarin's gate, she hurried quickly to the inner court which had been made ready for her. The guests waited impatiently to see her, but no bride appeared. At last the mandarin sent a maid servant to knock on her door. 'The master is waiting. The guests grow impatient, Honored Lady,' she said. 'They beg you to shed the light of your presence upon them.'
"'Tell your master,' Su Chee replied, 'that I am not well. Bid the guests enjoy themselves until evening. When supper is ready I surely will join them.'
"So the afternoon melted into the night and the courtyards were lighted with a thousand gay-colored lanterns. Dish after dish came from the kitchens, and the tables in the courtyard were spread with a feast fit for an emperor.
"'Go to your master now,' Su Chee commanded her maid servant. 'Tell him I am ready. Bid him gather his guests about the spread tables and have the musicians play their most glorious tunes.'
"The tongues of the guests were hushed with wonder when at last Su Chee appeared. Her red silken robe shone like the sunrise, and seven bright stars gleamed in the crown she wore on her head. But fear struck the hearts of the guests as they saw the stern look on the face of the Star Princess. Her eyes blazed like fire as she spoke to the mandarin thus: 'Wicked fool, not content with your own lovely wife, you have tried to steal away the wife of your neighbor. You have dared to raise your eyes to a Star Princess, the daughter of Yu Huang, the Ruler of the Heavenly Kingdom. My father is angry. He bids me punish your impudence.'
"And with this, the Star Princess brought her two little hands sharply together. With her first clap the wicked mandarin disappeared like a puff of smoke in the air. With her second, the houses and gardens and all the fine courtyards were gone, and in their place there stood a broad lake. The servants were turned into fishes, and the musicians and guests became frogs that croak in the night. People say that the frogs which make so much noise in their pools on summer evenings are really the mandarin's guests calling for their lost feast.
"Listen carefully, my children, to our own frogs in the Pool of the Goldfish. Can you hear them calling, 'Tea table, tea table, tea table'? Or do you think they are saying, 'Food's ready, food's ready, food's ready'?"
"What became of Su Chee, Lao Lao?" Yu Lang asked. "Did she go back to her place in the sky?"
"Yes, Jade Flower, Su Chee flew back again to the Heavenly Kingdom. But she did not take her old place in the midst of her sisters. 'You are changed by your visit on earth, my star daughter,' the Jade Emperor said to her when she arrived. 'Because you lived for so long with your earthly husband, Sing Wu, you will ever be interested in what goes on in the world of men. To reward you for doing your duty s
o well I shall give you a new place in the heavens. You shall shine more brightly than any one of your six sisters. And you shall shine, set apart, where all can admire you.'
"Do you see that star there below the six shining sisters?" Grandmother Ling asked, pointing out a bright star a little apart from the others. "That is the lost Star Princess, Su Chee. Every clear night she sends down her bright light on our fields. She makes the grain grow, and she still brings luck to those who are kind and good like Sing Wu."
XXIV
THE MANDARIN AND THE BUTTERFLIES
ONE warm summer afternoon Yu Lang and the other girls of the household sat with the Old Old One in the summer house at the very end of the garden. Each had a needle threaded with bright silk in one hand and a bit of cloth in the other. The Old Old One herself was making the scales on the back of a twisting green dragon. Some of the girls were embroidering rose and blue flowers on heavy silk which would later be used for the sides of their own tiny shoes. Yu Lang was setting small stitches in the pattern of a gay butterfly.
"A butterfly for joy!" the Old Old One exclaimed as she examined the little girl's work. "A wise man of ancient days once had a dream in which he thought he was changed into a butterfly. He drifted pleasantly from one flower to another, and from each he sipped the sirup hidden deep in its heart. When he awoke he fancied that he could still see the beautiful blossoms, that he could still smell their perfume, and that he could still taste their sweet honey. Never had he known such happiness, and so he adopted the butterfly as his symbol for pleasure and joy. And such, my maids of the needle, it has been ever since."
Tales of a Chinese Grandmother Page 13
