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Far up in the mountains of the Province of Hunan in the central part of
China, there once lived in a small village a rich gentleman who had only
one child. This girl, like the daughter of Kwan-yu in the story of the
Great Bell, was the very joy of her father's life.

Now Mr. Min, for that was this gentleman's name, was famous throughout
the whole district for his learning, and, as he was also the owner of
much property, he spared no effort to teach Honeysuckle the wisdom of
the sages, and to give her everything she craved. Of course this was
enough to spoil most children, but Honeysuckle was not at all like other
children. As sweet as the flower from which she took her name, she
listened to her father's slightest command, and obeyed without ever
waiting to be told a second time.

Her father often bought kites for her, of every kind and shape. There
were fish, birds, butterflies, lizards and huge dragons, one of which
had a tail more than thirty feet long. Mr. Min was very skilful in
flying these kites for little Honeysuckle, and so naturally did his
birds and butterflies circle round and hover about in the air that
almost any little western boy would have been deceived and said, "Why,
there is a real bird, and not a kite at all!" Then again, he would
fasten a queer little instrument to the string, which made a kind of
humming noise, as he waved his hand from side to side. "It is the wind
singing, Daddy," cried Honeysuckle, clapping her hands with joy;
"singing a kite-song to both of us." Sometimes, to teach his little
darling a lesson if she had been the least naughty, Mr. Min would fasten
queerly twisted scraps of paper, on which were written many Chinese