Daily independent. [volume] (Elko, Nev.) 188?-1915, 1890-03-13
THE LOVING WIDOW.
Tho Cause OF Her Protracted Vigil at Her
Husbands Grave.

huSD9noB Grave.
The Mandarin Tchung Tsen, of the
Prov1nce OF Soung, was philosopher
who pursued his researches beyond the
mere concerns Of earth, says a witty
French writer, and his insight enabled
him to escape the pitfalls which lie in
the paths of those who strive for useless
riches or empty honors. His satisfac-
tion must have been profound when,
after his death, the authorities pro-
claimed him happy and worthy Of emu
lation.
During the days which the unknown
rulers of the universe allotted to him to
spend beneath the blue sky, among the
flowers, and under the willow and
bamboo, it was Tchung Tsen's custom to
walk through the fields in meditation.
One day, while wandering thus at ran
dom on the flowery slopes of the mount
ain, Nam Hoa, he came unawares upon
cemetery where the dead reposed, ac-
cording to the custom of the province,
under little mounds Of beaten earth. At
the sight of the numberless graves
which stretched away to the horizon
the sage meditated concerning the des-
tiny of mankind. ...
AS his vision followed his thoughts
across the array of graves it encoun-
tered young woman, clad in the garb Of
mourning of the province, long, plain
robe OF coarse white cloth. She seated
herself beside one of the little mounds
and began industriously to ply q large
white fan to and fro over the yet moist
earth Of the funeral hillock. Curious
to know the meaning Of this strange
proceeding, Tchung Tsen approached
the young woman with respectful salu-
tations and said:
May venture, madam, to inquire
who lies buried in this grave, and why
you are at such pains to fan itp I am o
philosopher and search into the causes
of things; but this one 1 can not di-
Vine." ...
Theyoung woman, still plying the fan,
blushed, hung her head, and murmured
some unintelligible reply. The sage
renewed the inquiry several times, but
without success. She took no further
notice of him, and it seemed to him as
though her very soul had passed into
the hand which moved the fan. Tchung
Tsen turned awayEeluctantly. Though
knowing we'll that all is vanity, it
was still his wont.to analyze the mo-
tives Of human actions, especially those
Of women, for those little beings in
spired in him a very lively interest.
Slowly resuming his walk and turning
his head at brief intervals to see the fan
still beating the air like the wing of a
great butterfly, he shortly came up with
an old dame, hitherto unperce ived, who
beckoned him to follow. She led him in
to the shadow of mound somewhat
higher than its neighbors and said:
II heard you ask a question Of my
mistress which she did not answer.
will satisfy your curiosity, out of my
kindness and in the hope that you may
be pleased to reward me with money to
buy Of the priests some magic paper to
prolong my life"
Tchung Tsen gave her a piece of
money and the dame narrated the fol-
lowing: .-
"The lady wnom you saw at the grave
Is named Lu. She is the widow of
the Mandarin Tao, who died some days
ago after long illness, and is buried in
that grave beside which my mistress
sits. They loved each other with q
tender love. Even in his death agony
Tao could not reconcile himself to part
ing from her, and the thought Of her,
battling alone with the world, in the
flower Of her youth and beauty, was al
most too much for his philosophy. But
he was of gentle nature, and his soul
yielded to the inevitable. Weeping up
on the pillows of her husbands bed,
which she had never once quilted dur
ing his illness, the wife frantically took
the gods to witness that she would not
survive Tao, but would share his coffin
as she had shared his couch. But to this
Tao said:
Nay, madam. do not swear thatp
Well, replied Lu, If must survive
you, IL the gods condemn me still to
look upon the light Of day when you can
no longer behold it, be assured that ]
shall never consent to become the wife
of another, and that, as have but one
cnu1 II oh h,,t