THE EASTER DREAM OF MUN CHEE

She sometimes longed to get out, she and her two little brothers

Mun Chee had a wonderful dream one night. Being a little Chinese aristocrat, she had never played just as the common people’s children play, and in her little heart she sometimes longed to get out, she and her two little brothers, and run wild through the narrow Chinese streets, and to be as free as the winds, just as the children of poor people might do; but she could not do this. So much was due to her station in life, as she was to be a Chinese lady some far-off day. So one night,—just the night before Easter,—after she had fallen asleep on her couch of bamboo, she dreamed a dream as beautiful as a poor child—a child of a coolie even might dream, for dreams are free to all, rich and poor. Perhaps it was because she had gone to sleep wondering if her house would be visited by the Easter rabbit, of which an American friend had told her; perhaps—but then, it does not matter what the reason was, for suddenly she felt some soft little taps on her eyelids, and a warm breath fanned her cheek, and opening her eyes she beheld the dearest, cunningest little rabbit—a white one, with bright pink eyes. It was perched on the edge of her bed, and had awakened her by tapping her Oriental eyelids with its soft white paws. It looked so gentle that she loved it right away, and said: “Who are you?”

It replied in a tiny voice: “If it please your highness, I am the queen of the Easter rabbits; I thought you might like to go with me for a little visit to my realm, the beautiful Easterland.”

“Oh, I likee go,” said Mun Chee. “It must be all light to visit a queen. Yes, yes, I will go, but how?”

“Trust to me, and you shall arrive safely; I will carry you on my back.”

“You? Why, you too small; I such a big girl; you no can cally me.”

“Wait and see!” said Queen Bunny, and with that she began to grow and grow and grow, right before Mun Chee’s astonished eyes, and pretty soon she was as big as a horse.

“Oh, how could you do it?” gasped the little Chinese girl.

“Because I am in league with the fairies, and have all power,” the queen said. “Jump on my back, if it please your ladyship, and we will hasten away.”

She jumped gracefully to the back of the rabbit, and clasped her plump arms tightly around its neck. They bounded up, up, until they were so high in the air that they could not see the world below.

“I neveh knew that labbits could fly,” said she.

“Well, all rabbits cannot fly,” said the queen, “only those of royal blood. There are rabbits and rabbits, you know, just as there are people and people. My sceptre is a white Easter lily, and whoever it touches is at once possessed of unlimited power.”

Now they came to the land of the birds, where they were fairly intoxicated with the beautiful music thrilling from the throats of these feathered songsters. Some of the trees were bright blue, and were filled with all kinds of blue birds; then a yellow tree, something like the acacia, was filled with canaries, making the air fairly alive with song. So they floated on, until the songs of the birds were but an echo.

Then came Candy-land. My! how good it smelled in this wonderful place—all pepper-minty and nice! and what a variety of trees there were—some big, big trees, just full of Chinese preserved ginger! and how Mun Chee did long to put her strong white teeth into some of it! Then there were trees so soft and white that they looked almost as if they were covered with snow; but it really was only white marsh-mallows. Then there were tiny Chinese fairies running all around, pulling bon-bons apart, and squealing with delight when they popped.

Then came Monkey-land, and this was the funniest of all, and even made a little Chinese girl laugh. Some of them were playing a game of base-ball with cocoanuts, and Mun Chee was all the time afraid one of them would get hit in the head; but they seemed to know just how to avoid that. Some of them ran up and asked her to stay to dinner with them, and then, when they thought she was not looking, they made such horrible faces at her that she was glad she had not accepted their invitation. After she had watched several games she hurried on again, looking back once, to see some of the monkeys throwing kisses at her and others making the ugliest faces. That might have been their way of being polite, though she really could not say, as she was not up in the etiquette of monkeys.

Next came the land of bears. There were all kinds,—black, brown, and white. She was scared at first, but the rabbit queen assured her they were harmless, and warranted not to hug. They were dancing some kind of a queer dance, and one silky white one, that looked just like a rug she had at home, came and asked if the little celestial aristocrat would honor him with the next dance. A look from the eyes of Queen Bunny told her she had better accept, and she did so, smiling graciously upon the bear. Around they went, in a giddy whirl, her queue flying in the wind, until it seemed to Mun Chee that everything was going around with them, and she panted: “If it’s just the same to you, I’d rather sit out the rest of this dance.”

“Certainly, your highness,” growled old bruin, and when she was seated he brought her a dish of sweetened snowballs, which were quite refreshing.

When she told them good-by this same bear could not resist the temptation of giving her just a teeny-weeny hug, but it didn’t hurt, and she was quite sure he meant it as a mark of especial favor.

Next came the land of cats. Each land had its queen, and here it was Queen Malta, an immense maltese cat with large, yellow eyes. Such a purring as they made when they saw Mun Chee and Queen Bunny approaching! It was not often they were honored by royalty. The queen approached them, walking on her hind legs, her long silky tail held by a page,—a tiny white kitten, dressed in gauze and spangles.

“In what way shall it please your gracious majesties to be entertained?” said Queen Malta; but to any one else it would have sounded like “Miaouw—miaouw—miaouw—”

Mun Chee replied: “I likee some music.”

Thereupon the queen tapped a silver bell, and there sprang lightly into view a perfect chorus of the most beautiful cats. After curtseying to the royal guests they began the music, and they sang the funniest songs imaginable. Mun Chee laughed till her little sides ached, but when she applauded, the noise scared away all the cats, and they scampered off, regardless of good manners. Queen Malta called them back, and explained matters, however, and the program was carried out without any further commotion. Mun Chee would like to have lingered for quite a while in each of these strange countries, but Queen Bunny told her it was approaching the hour when they were expected at the Easter castle, and so, after a few more swift turns through the air, they began to descend softly, softly, until faint strains of music fell upon their ears.

It was a triumphant march of welcome, and the notes rose glad and high. Soon Mun Chee felt her feet touch the soft grass, and unclasping her arms from about the rabbit’s neck, she stood and gazed about her in a perfect bewilderment of rapture. This was so different from any of the other countries; everywhere the eye rested upon the soft green tracery of leaves and trees, great beds of delicate fern, and flowers of every hue. Through an avenue of tall, waxen Easter lilies she was conducted by two tiny white rabbits, and as they walked, a glorious anthem sounded from all the great Easter lilies, and the golden clappers clanged musically against their satin whiteness.

All the while there was a strange and wonderful perfume filling the air, even sweeter than the scent of the punks burned before the joss in the temple. Some of the lilies bent down and kissed the dear little Chinese maiden as she passed, and their breath was sweeter than any perfume. After being royally entertained in the palace of pure white pearl the child was conducted into the queen’s garden, where a feast was spread under the shade of some tall ferns. Being seated, they were served to delicious tea, in dainty cups, shaped like Easter lilies. Many good things were placed before the little girl, who was very hungry, after her long flight through the air, and nothing in her own home had ever tasted half so good as did these dishes served by the dear little white rabbits.

After much chatting and laughing the strange meal was ended, and the rabbit queen presented Mun Chee with a large basket of pearl and silver, lined with blue and yellow, the colors of the Imperial Court of China, and announced that they would now start out in search of Easter eggs. “Oh, what fun!” said Mun Chee, clapping her hands for joy. A white rabbit page went by her side, and carried her basket. Soon they came to a dense forest of fern, and Mun Chee heard a high, squeaky voice saying:

“How queer!” thought Mun Chee, “to tell me about it. Well, if it has velly long legs I betteh quit looking on the glound, and look up.” She did so, and away back among the ferns she saw some funny bright eyes peeping at her.

“Why, it is a stok” (stork), she exclaimed.

With that the stork came forward, and extended a long claw in greeting, and, pointing to a large nest artfully concealed among the ferns, he said: “You may take what you see, and welcome.”

“Oh, thank you!” she said, and taking several of the very large eggs, placed them carefully in her basket.

“Oh, they won’t break,” said Queen Bunny. “The eggs in Easterland are warranted not to break.”

And now the soft trill of a canary rippled from a tree,—a tiny tree, that a child could easily reach. Sure enough, there was the dearest little canary, perched on a branch, singing sweetly,—

There in the little nest were a lot of the tiniest eggs, and all bright yellow, just the color of Mrs. Canary herself.

“Oh, you gentle little thing—you so good to give me youh cunning little eggs.”

“Don’t mention it!” said Canary.

Then a white dove cooed from its house near by,—

Her gift was six eggs, pure white, with just the tiniest little pink polkadots in them. While she was admiring them she heard a gentle purr, which seemed to come from the ground under her feet, and looking down she saw peeping from a moss-lined hole in the ground a pair of pink eyes, and a white, soft paw, as the voice of this Easter rabbit purred,—

“Well, I likee find what no one else has found,” she said; and putting her hand into the moss-lined nest, she drew out—not an egg, as she had expected, but six of the tiniest baby rabbits, no bigger than her thumb.

“Oh, you cunning little babies! You shall go and live with me,” said Mun Chee; and thanking the Easter rabbit, she passed on to the home of a blue-bird, on a swinging bough, and heard her singing,—

What a beautiful blue they were, to be sure! just like the sky. Then a loud cackling fell upon her ear, and she could distinguish the words,—

She saw that the queer voice came from a bright red little hen, who gave her some beautiful eggs when she had given the bread.

Following the sound of a sharp voice she walked along the path until she came to a most beautiful peacock, gorgeous in the spread of its wonderful plumage.

This pleased her more than any of the others, because the peacock feather is sacred to the Chinese, and is used in their temples where they pray to the joss. The peacock’s offering was a very large bunch of these brilliant feathers, to take to her mo chun, while it said in a queer, sharp voice,—

“Now for the last place,” said Queen Bunny; and following the sound of a terrible screeching noise, they climbed a ladder into a tall tree, and there was a beautiful American eagle. It was not cross a bit, as eagles usually are, but was singing,—

It seemed to Mun Chee that the best came last, for these were such beautiful eggs, and so different from any of the others. Her basket was quite full now, and as she saw the shade growing more dense beneath the trees she thought it must be quite time for her to return to her own home. So, after bidding good-by to all the royal company of white rabbits, and having her arms filled with the fragrant China lilies, she sprang upon the queen’s back once more, and sped away—away—far from the Easter palace—the palace of a dream.