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Updated: May 2, 2025
"Moreover, if you wait while the procession passes, you will see two children dressed to represent Han Chung and Ho-Seen-Ko, and their mother carrying the empty rice-bowl between them; for this is done every year to remind people to take care of the widow and fatherless," she said.
"My! he's a fierce old customer, that Buddha of yours," said Merrit. Yuki San paused in the filling of the rice-bowl and looked at him gravely: "Merrit San, do you know God?" "Do I know God?" he repeated, with a half-embarrassed laugh. "Yes, Christians' God, what you must love and love, but no never can see till die-time come. You know, Merrit San?"
Poultry of all kinds are very fond of "scraps;" the children were always told to cut up pieces of potatoes, greens, or meat, which they might leave on their plates at the nursery dinner; and when they were removed to the kitchen, they were collected together and put into the rice-bowl for the chickens.
The girls served the sticky grains into the china rice-bowl with a flat wooden ladle. "Japanese people always take two bowls of rice at least," observed Ito. "One bowl very unlucky; at the funeral we only eat one bowl." This to Geoffrey was the coup de grâce. He had only managed to stuff down his bowl through a desperate sense of duty.
Behind her were the white stove and the sun-filled, empty niche. The light flooded through the doorway. Foh-Kyung set down his rice-bowl from his left hand and his ivory chop-sticks from his right. He stood before her. "Truly, Dong-Yung, I want thee. Do not go away and leave me. Do not cross to the eating-room of the women and children. Eat with me."
The Snorter in turn was slain in this fight by Marshal Chin Ta-shêng, 'Golden Big Pint, who was an ox-spirit and endowed with the mysterious power of producing in his entrails the celebrated niu huang, ox-yellow, or bezoar. Facing the Snorter, he spat in his face, with a noise like thunder, a piece of bezoar as large as a rice-bowl. It struck him on the nose and split his nostrils.
Tatsu looked up from his rice-bowl in some surprise. The relations between these two, though externally kind, had never approached intimacy.
So Wang Chih waited in the street; and in a little while the procession came to an end; and the last three figures in it were a boy and a girl, dressed like his own two children, walking on either side of a young woman carrying a rice-bowl.
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