There is a Chinese work of two centuries ago, known as The Household Treasure, consisting of twenty-four volumes of double-distilled goody-goodiness. Within its covers, however, is a little section devoted to humorous tales and tales which are meant to be humorous, from which we will quote a motto-anecdote for the present chapter.

A certain musician once went into the street carrying his harpsichord of delicately sweet sound, and commenced to play thereon. Thinking they heard a lute, of somewhat questionable associations, a large crowd gathered to listen; but, finding that the instrument was the aesthetic harpsichord, they quickly dispersed. One man alone remained, and the musician comforted himself, saying, “At any rate I have one appreciative listener.” But the man to whom he referred dashed his fond hopes by exclaiming, “That's my table you are using! You don't suppose I should stay if it weren't, do you?”

The obvious moral is that while vested interests may account for apparent absorption in the higher refinements of Confucian proprieties—see previous chapter—something more piquant must be devised to tickle the attention of the masses.

At the very bottom of the list of popular Chinese works, we must notice the ballad booklets, cheap and nasty as regards paper and printing, and containing subject-matter to correspond.