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PIGLING
AND HER PROUD SISTER PEAR
BLOSSOM had been the name of a little Korean maid who was suddenly left
motherless. When her father, Kang Wa, who was a magistrate high in
office,
married again, he took for his wife a proud widow whose daughter, born
to Kang
Wa, was named Violet. Mother and daughter hated housework and made Pear
Blossom
clean the rice, cook the food and attend to the fire in the kitchen.
They were
hateful in their treatment of Pear Blossom, and, besides never speaking
a kind
word, called her Pigling, or Little Pig, which made the girl weep
often. It did no
good to complain to her father, for he was always busy. He smoked his
yard-long
pipe and played checkers hour by hour, apparently caring more about
having his
great white coat properly starched and lustred than for his daughter to
be
happy. His linen had to be beaten with a laundry club until it
glistened like
hoar frost, and, except his wide-brimmed black horsehair hat, he looked
immaculately white when he went out of the house to the Government
office. Poor
Pigling had to perform this task of washing, starching and glossing, in
addition to the kitchen work and the rat-tat-tat of her laundry stick
was often
heard in the outer room till after midnight, when her heartless
stepsister and
mother had long been asleep. There was
to be a great festival in the city and for many days preparations were
made in
the house to get the father ready in his best robe and hat, and the
women in
their finery, to go out and see the king and the royal procession. Poor
Pigling wanted very much to have a look at the pageant, but the cruel
stepmother,
setting before her a huge straw bag of unhulled rice and a big cracked
water
jar, told her she must husk all the rice, and, drawing water from the
well,
fill the crock to the brim before she dared to go out on the street. What a
task to hull with her fingers three bushels of rice and fill up a leaky
vessel! Pigling wept bitterly.
How could it ever be done? While she
was brooding thus and opening the straw
bag to begin spreading the rice out on mats, she heard a whir and a
rush of
wings and down came a flock of pigeons. They first lighted on her head
and
shoulders, and then hopping to the floor began diligently, with beak
and claw,
and in a few minutes the rice lay in a heap, clean, white, and
glistening,
while with their pink toes they pulled away the hulls and put these in
a
separate pile. Then,
after a great chattering and cooing, the flock was off and away. Pigling
was so amazed at this wonderful work of the birds that she scarcely
knew how to
be thankful enough. But, alas, there was still the cracked crock to be
filled.
Just as she took hold of the bucket to begin there crawled out of the
fire hole
a sooty black imp, named Tokgabi. "Don't
cry," he squeaked out. "I'll mend the broken part and fill the big
jar for you." Forthwith, he stopped up the crack with clay, and pouring
a
dozen buckets of water from the well into the crock, it was filled to
brimming
and the water spilled over on all sides. Then Tokgabi the imp bowed and
crawled
into the flues again, before the astonished girl could thank her
helper. So Pigling
had time to dress in her plain but clean clothes that were snow-white.
She went
off and saw the royal banners and the king's grand procession of
thousands of
loyal men. The next
time, the stepmother and her favorite daughter planned a picnic on the
mountain. So the refreshments were prepared and Pigling had to work
hard in
starching the dresses to be worn — jackets, long skirts, belts, sashes,
and
what not, until she nearly dropped with fatigue. Yet instead of
thanking and
cheering her, the cruel stepmother told Pigling she must not go out
until she
had hoed all the weeds in the garden and pulled up all the grass
between the
stones of the walk. Again the
poor girl's face was wet with tears. She was left at home alone, while
the
others went off in fine clothes, with plenty to eat and drink, for a
day of
merrymaking. While
weeping thus, a huge black cow came along and out of its great liquid
eyes
seemed to beam compassion upon the kitchen slave. Then, in ten
mouthfuls, the
animal ate up the weeds, and, between its hoof and lips, soon made an
end of
the grass in the stone pathway. With her
tears dried Pigling followed this wonderful brute out over the meadows
into the
woods, where she found the most delicious fruit her eyes ever rested
upon. She
tasted and enjoyed, feasting to the full and then returned home. When the
jealous stepsister heard of the astonishing doings of the black cow,
she
determined to enjoy a feast in the forest also. So on the next gala-day
she
stayed home and let the kitchen drudge go to see the royal parade.
Pigling
could not understand why she was excused, even for a few hours, from
the pots
and kettles, but she was still more surprised by the gift from her
stepmother
of a rope of cash to spend for dainties. Gratefully thanking the woman,
she put
on her best clothes and was soon on the main street of the city
enjoying the
gay sights and looking at the happy people. There were tight rope
dancing,
music with drum and flute by bands of strolling players, tricks by
conjurers
and mountebanks, with mimicking and castanets, posturing by the singing
girls
and fun of all sorts. Boys peddling honey candy, barley sugar and
sweetmeats
were out by the dozen. At the eating-house, Pigling had a good dinner
of fried
fish, boiled rice with red peppers, turnips, dried persimmons, roasted
chestnuts and candied orange, and felt as happy as a queen. The
selfish stepsister had stayed home, not to relieve Pigling of work, but
to see
the wonderful cow. So, when the black animal appeared and found its
friend gone
and with nothing to do, it went off into the forest. The
stepsister at once followed in the tracks of the cow that took it into
its head
to go very fast, and into unpleasant places. Soon the girl found
herself in a
swamp, wet, miry and full of brambles. Still hoping for wonderful
fruit, she
kept on until she was tired out and the cow was no longer to be seen.
Then,
muddy and bedraggled, she tried to go back, but the thorny bushes tore
her clothes,
spoiled her hands and so scratched her face that when at last, nearly
dead, she
got home, she was in rags and her beauty was gone. But
Pigling, rosy and round, looked so lovely that a young man from the
south, of
good family and at that time visiting the capital, was struck with her
beauty.
And as he wanted a wife, he immediately sought to find out where she
lived.
Then he secured a go-between who visited both families and made all the
arrangements for the betrothal and marriage. Grand was
the wedding. The groom, Su-wen, was dressed in white and black silk
robes, with
a rich horsehair cap and head-dress denoting his rank as a Yang-ban, or
gentleman. On his breast, crossed by a silver-studded girdle, was a
golden
square embroidered with flying cranes rising above waves — the symbols
of civil
office. He was tall, handsome, richly cultured, and quite famous as a
writer of
verses, besides being well read in the classics. Charming,
indeed, looked Pear Blossom, in her robe of brocade, and long
undersleeves which
extended from her inner dress of snow-white silk. Dainty were her red
kid shoes
curved upward at the toes. With a baldric of open-worked silver, a
high-waisted
long skirt, with several linings of her inner silk robes showing
prettily at
the neck, and the silver bridal ring on her finger, she looked as
lovely as a
princess. She wore a lofty head-dress of silk velvet decorated with
tinsel and
flowers, which were inwoven with her own long black tresses, while on
her
forehead was the crimson disk or spot denoting the bride. Long silver
hairpins,
tipped with jade, completed her headgear. The chief
ornament of the bridal festival and symbol of undying love was that of
a real,
live goose. The wild geese, that soar in the sky, pluck pine branches
from the
north and carry them as tokens of return again to the far south.
Graceful in
flight, unwearied of wing, soaring high in the air above all danger of
hunter,
snare, trap, or arrow, the wild goose is the emblem of constancy, since
it
never seeks but one mate, and, losing that, takes none again. The
snow-white
wild goose is the pattern of marital virtue and the symbol of constancy
in
love. So with
her original name now restored, and henceforward called Ewa, or Pear
Blossom,
the daughter of Kang Wa was to be Mrs. Su-wen. It was astonishing what
new
interest the hitherto neglectful father took in his daughter as soon as
she was
sought for in marriage. Leaving
her home in a palanquin borne by four lusty bearers, Pear Blossom went
forth to
live amid the rich rice fields of a southern province. Her home was
with a
father and mother-in-law, who, having no other children but their one
son,
became very fond of their new daughter. Summer after summer the pear
trees
bloomed and Ewa, the Pear Blossom, lived ever happily. As a good wife,
she
fulfilled in her life the significance of the symbol of marital bliss
the
figure of the wild goose, which flies far in the heavens, graceful and
untiring, the mirror of loyalty and faithfulness and, from of old,
reputed to
have but one mate. Besides
her bridal dower, her father asked Pear Blossom what she preferred as a
special
present. When she told him, he laughed heartily, even until his eyes,
like two
old roof-spouts, leaked with tears. Nevertheless he fulfilled her
wishes and to
this day, in the boudoir of Pear Blossom, now Mrs. Su-wen, there stands
ever,
before the good wife and happy mother of sons, an earthen figure of a
black cow
moulded and baked from the clay of her home province, while under a
pear tree
that bursts into bloom every spring time and sheds on the ground a
snowy shower
that falls not from the skies, happy children play. |