Little Almond Blossoms: A Book of Chinese Stories for Children

CHUNG GOY ran as fast as his little sandals would permit, up the narrow flight of steps which led to the Chinese restaurant, and out on the balcony, where a crowd of Chinamen were watching for the great Procession of the Dragon. His little legs were encased in pale green silk trousers tied at the ankles, and his lavender shom (blouse) gleamed in the light of the many dragon lanterns which were swaying in the night breeze. His hair was in a long queue, and on his head he wore the little round black cap of the Chinese, with a button on top. Chung Goy was so afraid he would miss seeing the dragon. He had never seen it as yet, for he was not so very old, and now that the long-expected moment had come he fairly trembled with excitement. His ho chun (father) was on this balcony, which was near their home, and he hurried to nestle up to him, as it was cold, and the wind was always blowing in San Francisco. It seemed as if the procession would never come; he grew tired watching so many people pass, and perhaps the fumes of the opium his father was smoking got into his brain; but, at any rate, the first thing he knew he saw a great squirming thing approaching him. It was spitting fire from its eyes and mouth, and at first he felt afraid. Oh, what a dreadful monster! it would surely devour him. He heard himself saying: “Velly bad snake—I no likee; go ’way! I ’flaid.” And then he heard a voice like the muttering of thunder, and the voice came out of the dragon’s mouth, and it was saying in the Chinese language: “Samen jai (little boy), I have come to take you to Dragon Land. Slip away from ho chun, and fly with me.” “Oh, no!” gasped the trembling boy, “I velly much ’flaid the big dlagon eat me up.” And then the dragon spoke again, but this time his voice was as soft and sweet as music, and the fire no longer came from his eyes and mouth. He had such a kind look on his face too, and spoke in such a persuasive tone, that little Chung Goy ceased to be afraid, and slipping from his father’s arms he ran down the narrow steps again, and out into the street, climbing up on the big dragon’s back. He saw lots of other Chinese boys he knew, doing the same thing. He held on tightly, for the dragon went in such a squirming way that he was afraid he would fall off, and he held on to his little silk cap, too, as the dragon’s speed increased, for it was his best one, and he did not want to lose it. Oh, this was jolly! He had never thought he would ever ride on a dragon’s back. What a lot he would have to tell his mo chun (mother) when he reached home. It was a good thing mo chun did not know it now, he thought, or she would be “velly much ’flaid.”