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TUNG LAI LUK stretched out his arms lazily on each side of the wicker chair in which he lay at length, and yawned prodigiously.
-"Praise be to the eternal gods, " he said, "that now we have, for a brief enough space, to endure none of our late trials--the energy of Po Feng Hsi, the epigrams of Kung Hiao Ling, the shrill piping of the boy, my nephew Ming So, nor the moonlike face of his little friend Yang Fei. Quite apart from my regrettable wife's efforts to rid herself of me." He yawned again, for it was pleasantly hot here in the garden of Lien Wo's house near Nam Pa. Then he suddenly remembered this Lien Wo in his catalogue. "Or, for that matter, the spurious but worldly wisdom of your excellent father," he concluded.