uggled on,
enduring the greatest sufferings in order to provide for the needs of
her sons as they gradually grew up; and eventually, owing to the
hardships which she had borne so heroically, they all passed with
honour through their examinations into the service of the Emperor.

On her death her story was forwarded to the capital, and his Majesty
was so much moved by it that he gave his sanction for an arch to be
erected to her memory, in order that for ages to come the crowds
passing daily under its shadow might read the record of her
self-sacrifice, and might learn how an admiring community had built
this imperishable memorial of her wifely and motherly virtues.

But of all the numerous arches spanning the road there was one which
attracted more attention than any other in the long line.

This was not because the virtues of the person, in whose honour it was
raised, were so conspicuous, or because they so far outrivalled those
recorded on the other arches, that men were constrained to stop and
ponder over a life so remarkable for its heroism.

On the contrary, no virtues of any kind were mentioned. On the central
arch, in large letters cut into the granite stone, were the words: "The
Wonderful Man"; and that was all. Not a word of explanation was given
as to who this wonderful man was; not a hint as to the special story of
his life.

Scholars passing along the dusty road would catch a sight of this brief
but cryptic inscription, and would at once be set wondering what a
phrase so unclassical and so mysterious could possibly mean. They
would walk round to the other side of the arch, to see if any
explanation were afforded there. But no, the inscription was simply
repeated in the same cold and veiled language; and so they would pass
on, no wiser than before.

Farmers, with produce of their own growing suspended from their
shoulders on stout bamboo poles, would come along at their accustomed
trot, and would gaze at these words, "The wonderful man," with a
curious look on their faces. They were not profound scholars, for on
account of their poverty they had been compelled to leave school before
they had mastered the ancient characters which make up the Chinese
written language; but they knew enough to read such simple words as
these. But what did the words really mean? They would laugh and joke
with each other about them as they sped on their way, and many a witty
suggestion would be merrily thrown out as a