Chinese Literature

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Everyone was expecting good news from Mr. Ho. In this, the people knew they would not be disappointed, because every year they had been able to get seeds on loan. The county magistrate himself was clearly aware that “the magistrates depend on the people, and the people depend on the land.” If nothing was done about seeds for sowing, in the end no one would benefit. Therefore Mr. Ho was readily able to get the magistrate’s promise whereby one thousand piculs of grain were to be

- issued to Tsaochialung to be handled by Mr. Ho.

‘What! The seed grain costs eleven dollars per picul, on top of which the money must be repaid at 4 per cent interest? This must be the work of that scoundrel Ho.”

All the villagers were cursing Ho, but all of them, nevertheless, quietly carried off seed grain from his house.

Life and work soon engulfed the village in an ever increasing whirl of activity. The people were all struggling desperately; all their hopes lay in the great coming harvest.

The seedlings were transplanted, then the fields were weeded twice. But Heaven again made sport of the hardships of the poor. For more than ten days there was not even the slightest drizzle. The sun hung in the air like a ball of fire. The water in the fields had dried up; the soil was only slightly moist.

Having sold his daughter and obtained seed grain on loan, Uncle Yun-pu worked hard to get his seedlings transplanted. By now he was so busy he could hardly find time to breathe. He still had no notion as to where to get fertilizer, and nature had not been generous with rain. Really, it was worrisome. If it was going to be a drought year, they must make preparations early.

He told Li-chiu to go up on the stage and bring the water-wheel down so that they could mend them. If in three more days there was no rain, it would be impossible to get along without using the waterwheel. Everyone was praying in his heart: Oh Heaven, please take pity on us and send us just a little bit of rain.

One day, two days... how hard-hearted Heaven was! He just pretended not to hear the people’s prayers. The horizon was still cloudless and the burning sun seemed to challenge the very existence of the universe. Scorched by the sun, everything had begun to wilt. The soil in the fields dried up; now and again one would come across a great ervack which looked like the gaping mouth of some ferocious animal panting and emitting a burning hot breath.

-The fields could wait no longer. The splashing of water-wheels could

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