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THE BEATER'S SONG,

OR

TING-LANG'S SEARCH FOR HIS FATHER.

Hail New Year!

Welcome New Year!

How bright the lamps in the streets appear
Ting-lang had been

Through the streets and seen

The crowds and lights to hail the New Year!
Peaceful Year! Year of peace!

May our blessings and wealth increase!

The boy went home when the three drums beat *

And flung himself at his mother's feet;

* Midnight.

Where, hiding his face in her lap, he kept
Fast hold of her hand as he loudly wept.
Peaceful Year! Year of
peace!
When will the tears of the poor boy cease!

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You thus bitterly sob and cry.

Into my bosom pour your grief;

Who but a mother can give relief? Peaceful Year! Year of peace! Soon shall the tears of my darling cease!

"Mother, whenever I'm in the street, I'm jeered by every boy I meet;

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They say I've no father-have got no name;
That I'm only a child of sin and shame.
Can it be true, mother, what they say ;-
That I am a bastard-a waif-a stray-
A floating weed-a toadstool sprung
From the vilest of places-a heap of dung?

That you, mother, you, I so much revere,

Were ? let me breathe the vile word in your ear,— But I knew, mother darling, that was untrue,

For the angels are not more pure than you!"

The mother had listened with drooping head,

To all that her weeping son had said;

When he'd finished, her head she proudly raised And lovingly into her boy's eyes gazed.

"Ne'er heed, my child, what the street-boys say,
For you are no more base born than they.
It harms you not if they look with scorn,
For you, my son, were in wedlock born.

Then she told to her child all her history,
Which till now had to him been a mystery.
Of her childhood's days; of the time she wed;
Of the happy life as a bride she led,
Till his father, one fatal day, was sent,
For another's crime, into banishment.

She told him where he 'd been sent, and how
He had changed his name from Tu to Kao.

He now had been gone twelve weary years;
And the mother described her hopes and fears,
In the long, long years she 'd had to wait,
Without one line to tell his fate ;-
Of the many and bitter tears she'd shed-
Of her lonesome life, and her constant dread
Lest his father died 'ere his name was freed
From the stain of committing a fearful deed.

"Mother, I'm but a boy;
But can I here remain,
And lead a life of joy,

While you live one of pain?

Ah, let me go in quest

Of him you hold so dear!
Nor will I ever rest,

But wander far and near,

Till I have found him, cleared his name,
And brought him hither free from blame.

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"Go, my son; seek your father, but quickly return; Bring him safe, and my undying gratitude earn.

But your zeal, my brave darling, has made you forget

That you don't know your father-you've not seen him yet."

Thus saying, three proofs from her bosom she drew,
Exclaiming, "I transfer these tokens to you;
Of each of these three parting keep-sakes you see,
He kept one half and gave one to me.

"See, this is my half (the other he took)

Of the mirror we broke at our parting, and look,
Here's half of the comb at my wedding I wore,
And this is my part of the 'kerchief we tore.

"How many long years in my bosom they've lain, When will they with his halves be united again! Whoever these three parting tokens can pair,

Is your father, my husband-we both his name bear."

The half of the mirror, the 'kerchief, and comb

The boy safely placed in his breast;

For at dawn the next morn he'd quit his loved home, And his courage be put to the test.

Why dwell on the sad parting scene which took place;

'Twas made up of hopes, doubts, and fears; He would ever remember her pale anxious face, She would pray for his safety with tears.

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