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Updated: June 10, 2025
He lived to the age of seventy-three, surrounded by admiring disciples, who remembered what they saw in him and heard from his lips; and this tradition is preserved in the Lun Yu, Digested Conversations, a work compiled, as we observed, by disciples of the second generation.
He made an effort to rise, but fell back with a groan. "Can't do it, sir. Without me. Run!" I put my hands in my pockets without a word, and then started, for a voice said "You think Ching lun away allee time?" "Ching!" I cried, grasping his arm. "Yes; no good. Can't findee big hole to hide. Ching tumblee down off rock, and hurt him." "Much?" I said. "Yes, plentee plentee. Time to go now.
Leda, who cannot be still in tongue or limb, chattered in her glib baby manner as we ate, and then, after smoking a cigarette, said that she would go and 'lun, and went, and left me darkling, for she is the sun and the moon and the host of the stars, I occupying myself that night in making a calendar at the end of this book in which I have written, for my almanack and many things that I prized were lost with the palace making a calendar, counting the days in my head but counting them across my thoughts of her.
The Indian's brow contracted a little, and instantly relaxed, as he answered, "That not fox track at all; that Indian dog, I guess. Martin Mitchell have dog; lun alound like that. No good dog that. Sposum mine, kill um." "Yes, Peter, I've no doubt you'd like to kill that dog very well. See, he finds his own living for himself. He killed a goose here last night, I see.
But the scare was only temporary, the tremendous report was not repeated, and before a minute had elapsed, our guide, who kept glancing back, cried "Now, lun velly fast. Come along catchee catchee, and no big gun go shoot this time."
"Now lun!" cried Ching. "I showee way." "No!" shouted Barkins. "Draw swords and retreat slowly." We whipped out our weapons and turned to face the enemy, knowing full well that they would sweep over us at the first rush, while a feeling of rage ran through me, as in my despairing fit I determined to make the big fellow opposite to me feel one dig of English steel before he cut me down.
"All gone along, catchee you," whispered Ching. "Come 'long other way." He stepped out, made us follow, and then carefully closed the door. "Now, come 'long this way," he said, with his eyes twinkling. "No walkee fast. Allee boy lun after."
He had also acquired a considerable reputation as a performer of the motley hero under the name of "Lun Junr," as he was so designated on the bills at that time, and he was the first performer who rendered the character of Harlequin at all intelligible in this country. To others he taught the art of silent, but expressive, action, the interpreter of the mind.
Lees sprang forward, pressed his weight against the partly-open portal; flashed his dark lantern on two figures struggling violently. His hand fell on the collar of Po Lun's antagonist; a policeman's "billy" cracked upon his skull. "Tie and gag him," said the captain. "Leave a man on guard.... The rest of you come on." Po Lun leading, they went, single file through utter blackness.
"Ching get one piecee boat low all aboard ship." "Can't you keep us in your place till our boat comes?" The man shook his head. "Mandalin boy come burn um down, makee all lun out. So velly hot. No stay. Get boat, low away." "How far is it, do you think?" asked Smith. "I don't know," said Barkins. "We seemed to be walking for hours in the hot sun coming up. How far is it, Ching?" "Velly long way.
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