Two or three days previous to my mother's death, I took it into my head
to turn a somersault in the kitchen, and painfully hit my ribs against
the corner of the stove. Mother was very angry at this and told me not
to show my face again, so I went to a relative to stay with. While
there, I received the news that my mother's illness had become very
serious, and that after all efforts for her recovery, she was dead. I
came home thinking that I should have behaved better if I had known the
conditions were so serious as that. Then that big brother of mine
denounced me as wanting in filial piety, and that I had caused her
untimely death. Mortified at this, I slapped his face, and thereupon
received a sound scolding from father.
After the death of mother, I lived with father and brother. Father did
nothing, and always said "You're no good" to my face. What he meant by
"no good" I am yet to understand. A funny dad he was. My brother was to
be seen studying English hard, saying that he was going to be a
businessman. He was like a girl by nature, and so "sassy" that we two
were never on good terms, and had to fight it out about once every ten
days. When we played a chess game one day, he placed a chessman as a
"waiter,"--a cowardly tactic this,--and had hearty laugh on me by seeing
me in a fix.
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