of
his business as undependable if he refused to agree.

Furthermore, the omens were ill-arranged.

On his way outwards he had encountered an aged man who possessed two
fruit-trees, on which he relied for sustenance. As Wong Ts'in drew
near, this venerable person carried from his dwelling two beaten cakes
of dog-dung and began to bury them about the root of the larger tree.
This action, on the part of one who might easily be a disguised
wizard, aroused Wong Ts'in's interest.

"Why," he demanded, "having two cakes of dung and two fruit-trees, do
you not allot one to each tree, so that both may benefit and return to
you their produce in the time of your necessity?"

"The season promises to be one of rigour and great need," replied the
other. "A single cake of dung might not provide sufficient nourishment
for either tree, so that both should wither away. By reducing life to
a bare necessity I could pass from one harvest to another on the fruit
of this tree alone, but if both should fail I am undone. To this end I
safeguard my existence by ensuring that at least the better of the two
shall thrive."

"Peace attend your efforts!" said Wong Ts'in, and he began to retrace
his footsteps, well content.

Yet he had not covered half the distance back when his progress was
impeded by an elderly hag who fed two goats, whose milk alone
preserved her from starvation. One small measure of dry grass was all
that she was able to provide them with, but she divided it equally
between them, to the discontent of both.

"The season promises to be one of rigour and great need," remarked
Wong Ts'in affably, for the being before him might well be a creature
of another part who had assumed that form for his guidance. "Why do
you not therefore ensure sustenance to the better of the two goats by
devoting to it the whole of the measure of dry grass? In this way you
would receive at least some nourishment in return and thereby
safeguard your own existence until the rice is grown again."

"In the matter of the two goats," replied the aged hag, "there is no
better, both being equally stubborn and perverse, though one may be
finer-looking and more vainglorious than the other. Yet should I
foster this one to the detriment of her fellow, what would be this
person's plight if haply the weaker died and the stronger broke away
and fled! By treating both alike I retain a double thread on life,
even if neither is capable of much."

"May the Unseen w