Chinese Tales

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The goose that could not cackle
The lost mare
The suspected thief
The growing disease
Silver troubles

The goose that could not cackle

Master Chuang was walking in the mountains when he saw a huge tree, its branches and leaves thick and lush. A woodcutter paused by its side but made no move to cut it down. When Master Chuang asked the reason, he answered, " There's nothing it could be used for!"

Master Chuang said, "Because it is quite worthless to men like us, this tree is able to live out the years Heaven gave it."

Down from the mountain, the Master stopped for a night at the house of an old friend. Delighted at that, the friend ordered his son to kill a goose and prepare it. "One of the geese can cackle and the other cannot," said the son. "So which should I kill, dad?"

"The one that cannot cackle," said his dad, the host.

Next day Master Chuang's disciples questioned him. "The tree you know, got to live to a full, reap age because it seems worthless. The goose gets killed for a similar thing. What position should you take in that case, Master?"

Master Chuang laughed, saying, "I would say about halfway between those poles apart - between worth and worthlessness, in all likelihood. But even if "halfway" might seem a good position, you do not get away from trouble there.

Another thing would be to climb up on the Way (Tao) - that is different! There go drifting and wandering, neither praised nor damned, shifting a bit with the times, taking grand harmony (Tao) for your measure. Then, could you get into any trouble?" [Cf. Co 209-10] (retold]

Comment

The ancient Chinese fable master Chuang Tzu [roughly 300 BC] mentions there may lie benefits in making oneself utterly useless, not useful, and yet, in other circumstances, a lot of danger, even death. There is more to life than lessons had from twisted, useless trees. A human cannot always reach up that high -

Now, it generally pays quite well to go about your business at hand meticulously, carefully, guardedly, and . . . [fill in].

The lost mare

One day, an old man living on the frontier lost one of his mares. All his neighbours felt sorry for him and came to console him. But the old man was not in the least disheartened. "Well," he said lightly. "I don't care much about it. Who can say that it is not for good also?"

A few days later, the mare came back itself, accompanied by a fine wild horse. The neighbours were surprised and came to congratulate, full of praise of the horse. But the old man showed no sign of happiness. "Joy often begets sorrow," he said, "So who cannot tell if this won't turn out to be a bad thing."

Now the old man's son was very fond of riding, and the new horse, vigorous and wild, was a great temptation to him. Every day he took particular interest in fighting with it on its back, risking his neck. At length he was thrown off the horse and got one of his legs broken.

The neighbours again came to lament the young man's misfortunes. But the old man shook his head and said philosophically "Well, don't mind it too much. We know good and bad fortune often lurk within each other. So can you determine if it isn't a blessing in disguise?"

Not long after the country was attacked by invaders, and to resist the violent attack, all the young people on the frontier were summoned up to join the army. The fight was extremely fierce, and most of the young men laid down their lives on the battle fields. But because of his injured leg, the old man's son was allowed to stay at home, and thus saved his life.

[Other versions of the tale]

The suspected thief

A man lost his axe and suspected that it had been stolen by his neighbour's son. He watched the youth closely and his suspicion brewed increasingly. "Doesn't he walk the way a thief does? And his appearance, manner, the language he uses, all are a robber's."

But a few days later the axe was found in the valley where he had worked with it. Obviously it was his carelessness that had made him lose the axe. "So I have blamed the young man wrongly, " he thought.

Now when he met his neighbour's son, things looked different. The youth by no means looked like a thief: his walk, his looks, his behaviour and talk were all innocent.

The growing disease

Bian Que was a popular doctor of Cai. One day he came across King Cai Huan, looked at him for a while and said, "You are ill. But it doesn't matter, since the sickness is yet skin deep. It is easy to cure."

The king squinted at him and said, "Many thanks. But I need no treatment at all! I am as fit as a fiddle."

Bian Que shook his head and left without another word.

After his departure, the king made comments on him, saying to his men, "That's the way a doctor shows his skills: treating healthy patients to cure non-illness."

Ten days later, the king met with Bain Que again and doctor mentioned his illness once more, "Your Majesty, the sickness now has got into your muscles. You should not make light of it. Please take some medicine."

The king pulled a long face and rejected the advice.

Another ten days passed. When change happened to put them together, Bian Que said to the king in earnest, "Really Your Majesty! The sickness is now already dwelling in your stomach and bowels. It will be mortal if you persist in objecting to a treatment in time!"

King Cai Huan got annoyed and sniffed scornfully.

Thus a dozen more days had slipped by before Bian Que showed his face. But hardly had he seen King Cai Huan when he took to his heels in a great hurry. Quite puzzled, the king sent a man to find out the reason. When the man caught up with Bian Que, the latter replied, "It's curable when a disease doesn't develop to its fatal degree. But now, by refusing a treatment, His Majesty has allowed his illness into his marrow, a case that nobody can deal with successfully."

Five days afterwards, the king felt his body aching all over. At once he sent for Bian Que. But, foreseeing this, Bian Que had long gone to Qin and dodged such a request.

King Cai Huan dies at last, filled with pain and regret.

❖ Acupuncture diagnosis and treatment (with needles etc.,) is in part of this kind, believe it or not.

Silver troubles

Zhang San had managed to save up three hundred ounces of silver. It gave him both happiness and anxiety. It was a large amount of money, but if it were stolen, the pleasure of owning it would be gone. He racked his brains, trying to find a place that was safe enough for his treasure. At last a fine idea came to mind: "Why don't I put my silver into a solid box and lock it with two giant locks? But what if the thief simply takes away the whole box with the locks and the silver in it?"

The more he pictured his riches being taken away, the more uneasy he felt, till nightmares made him shout in despair. He looked around, but could see no safe place in his house at all. But several days' hard thinking a good idea came. When night fell, he dug a hole at the base of the wall in his back room. There he buried the silver in secret. To make it safer, he put a note on the wall.

"My silver is not buried here."

Now Zhang San set his heart at ease and fell to sleeping soundly. But his neighbour Wang Er had seen what happened. He waited till midnight and then went to dig out the silver. Wand Er also thought up a plan not to be suspected. Side by side with Zhang San's note, he put another, which read.

"Your neighbour Wang Er did not steal it."

Literature

Co: Watson, Burton, tr. The Complete Works of Chuang Tzu. New York: Columbia University Press, 1968.

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