Short Stories
sought out the remotest corners of the kingdom; I have travelled
the Eight Highways, searched the Eight Provinces, and sailed the
seas of the Eight Coasts. And here I am."
With a great flourish he drew a paper from his girdle, un-
rolled it with many snappings and cracklings, and thrust it be-
fore the face of Pak Chung Chang. Upon the paper was the pic-
ture of the nose.
Pak Chung Chang stared upon it with bulging eyes.
"Never have I beheld such a nose," he began.
"There is a wart upon it," said Yi Chin Ho.
"Never have I beheld—" Pak Chung Chang began again.
"Bring your father before me," Yi Chin Ho interrupted stern-
ly.
"My ancient and very-much-to-be-respected ancestor sleeps,"
said Pak Chung Chang.
"Why dissemble?" demanded Yi Chin Ho. "You know it is
your father's nose. Bring him before me that I may strike it off
and be gone. Hurry, lest I make bad report of you."
"Mercy!" cried Pak Chung Chang, falling on his knees. "It is
impossible! It is impossible! You cannot strike off my father's
nose. He cannot go down without his nose to the grave. He will
become a laughter and a byword, and all my days and nights
will be filled with woe. O reflect! Report that you have seen no
such nose in your travels. You, too, have a father."
Pak Chung Chang clasped Yi Chin Ho's knees and fell to
weeping on his sandals.
"My heart softens strangely at your tears," said Yi Chin Ho.
205