into
the house and dressed it for the market. On the city streets next day
she had no trouble in selling the flesh and skin for a handsome sum of
money. All had heard of the tiger's first gift, and no one was anxious
to drive a close bargain.

Laden with food, the happy woman went home rejoicing, with money enough
to keep her for many a day. A week later the tiger came to her door
with a roll of cloth and some money in his mouth. He dropped these new
gifts at her feet and ran away without even waiting for her thank-you.
The Widow T'ang now saw that the judge had acted wisely. She stopped
grieving for her dead son and began to love in his stead the handsome
animal that had come to take his place so willingly.

The tiger grew much attached to his foster-mother and often purred
contentedly outside her door, waiting for her to come and stroke his
soft fur. He no longer had the old desire to kill. The sight of blood
was not nearly so tempting as it had been in his younger days. Year
after year he brought the weekly offerings to his mistress until she was
as well provided for as any other widow in the country.

At last in the course of nature the good old soul died. Kind friends
laid her away in her last resting place at the foot of the great
mountain. There was money enough left out of what she had saved to put
up a handsome tombstone, on which this story was written just as you
have read it here. The faithful tiger mourned long for his dear
mistress. He lay on her grave, wailing like a child that had lost its
mother. Long he listened for the voice he had loved so well, long he
searched the mountain-slopes, returning each night to the empty cottage,
but all in vain. She whom he loved was gone for ever.

One night he vanished from the mountain, and from that day to this no
one in that province has ever seen him. Some who know this story say
that he died of grief in a secret cave which he had long used as a
hiding-place. Others add, with a wise shrug of the shoulders, that, like
Shanwang, he was taken to the Western Heaven, there to be rewarded for
his deeds of virtue and to live as a fairy for ever afterwards.

THE PRINCESS KWAN-YIN

[Illustration]

Once upon a time in China there lived a certain king who had three
daughters. The fairest and best of these was Kwan-yin, the youngest.
The old king was justly proud of this daughter, for of all the women who
had ever lived in the palace she was by far the most att