monster bell rang out over the great city, sounding a deeper, richer
melody than that of any other bell within the limits of the Middle
Kingdom, or, for that matter, of all the world. And, strange to say,
even yet the deep-voiced colossus seems to cry out the name of the
maiden who gave herself a living sacrifice, "Ko-ai! Ko-ai! Ko-ai!" so
that all the people may remember her deed of virtue ten thousand years
ago. And between the mellow peals of music there often seems to come a
plaintive whisper that may be heard only by those standing near, "Hsieh!
hsieh"--the Chinese word for slipper. "Alas!" say all who hear it,
"Ko-ai is crying for her slipper. Poor little Ko-ai!"

And now, my dear children, this tale is almost finished, but there is
still one thing you must by no means fail to remember. By order of the
Emperor, the face of the great bell was graven with precious sayings
from the classics, that even in its moments of silence the bell might
teach lessons of virtue to the people.

"Behold," said Yung-lo, as he stood beside the grief-stricken father,
"amongst all yonder texts of wisdom, the priceless sayings of our
honoured sages, there is none that can teach to my children so sweet a
lesson of filial love and devotion as that one last act of your devoted
daughter. For though she died to save you, her deed will still be sung
and extolled by my people when you are passed away, yea, even when the
bell itself has crumbled into ruins."




THE STRANGE TALE OF DOCTOR DOG