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A Remembrance of O-lan
........when tears dropped slowly and heavily from her eyes, she did not put up her hand to wipe them away; only she beat the more steadily with her wooden stick upon the clothes spread over the stone.....
An ox is but an ox, and this one grew old. Eat, for there will be another one day and far better than this.?
....but I will not die until my eldest son comes home and before he weds this good maid who is my daughter-in-law so that I may die in peace....
