WH

WHEN CHANG LIN awoke, and saw what had happened, he was frightened, for he knew his father would be very angry, yet he had sense enough to know that the plant so much prized was of more value than all the rest. He rushed into the burning hut-his grandmother, who had been sick, in one corner, was burning, but he had not time to pull her out-he took the plant in his arms; its beautiful leaves were scorched with the heat, but at least it was saved.

WHILE he was thinking what he should say to

his father, and wringing his hands over the scorched leaves of the plant, an odor assailed his nostrils unlike any scent he had before experienced. What could it proceed from? It appeared to come from the plant, and he put his hand to the scorched leaves. They burnt his fingers, which he quickly put into his mouth to cool; but some of the leaves had stuck to his fingers, and when in his mouth a sensation of joy came to him. Again and again he caught at the plant, only to find joy, succeeding joy.