Deng could not sleep. He was too excited. First he tried to sleep on his left side and then he tried sleeping on his right side. He tossed and turned. Finally he just gave up. He threw back his covers and got up to go check on his crickets. They all looked healthy and ready for tomorrow. Deng looked out his bedroom window. He wished that the sun would rise so that he and his grandfather could start on their journey. His grandfather had been going to the Bird and Flower Market in Shanghai for over 20 years to sell his crickets but this would be Deng's first time.

Several nights ago, after dark, he hunted for the strongest and largest crickets that lived in the damp areas by his home. Deng hoped that he would get at least 2 or 3 yuan for each of his crickets and maybe 8 or 9 yuan for his biggest one. Deng had heard of some crickets selling for almost 3,000 yuan! Those were specially bred and came from another village well know for its champion crickets. As Deng daydreamed about money he cared for his crickets. He fed them steamed rice, worms and a little ginseng. The ginseng helped to make them even stronger. He fed his smallest cricket a little extra ginseng. He felt sorry for this little guy because he knew no one would ever buy him. His grandfather told him to always have some smaller crickets at market to help make the bigger ones look even bigger. Buyers always looked for the biggest and strongest crickets. Cricket fighting was all about who owned the biggest and strongest cricket.

At the Bird and Flower Market, Deng could not believe all the sights and sounds. Bird squawks, songs and calls echoed all around the market place. Flowers of all sizes, shapes and colors made a rainbow of color down every walkway. Tucked between the flowers and birds were the cricket sellers. His grandfather's booth was at the end of a walkway almost at the back of the market. Deng didn't think the location of their booth was very good. He wished their booth were at the front of the market where all the real action seemed to be taking place. Next to them was a flower booth. Deng wasn't too interested in flowers but these were the biggest ones he had ever seen. Each flower had hundreds of tiny petals that came together to make one great big ball. They were in many colors but mostly white and yellow. A girl, about Deng's age, working at the booth with her mother told him that the flowers were called Chrysanthemums.

Just as Deng had feared, there was not much action at the back of the market. His grandfather told him that it cost too much to have a booth at the front of the market and to have patience. A few people walked by but no one stopped. It was close to lunchtime and Deng was getting very bored. He was about to ask his grandfather if he could go look around when a very thin young man, dressed like a Buddhist monk, stopped to look at his crickets. Deng eagerly pointed out the ones he felt were strongest. The young man seemed impressed. He studied all the crickets in their little bamboo cages and then offered 2 yuan for Deng's smallest cricket. Deng sold the cricket but was disappointed that the man did not buy a larger cricket for more yuan. Deng thought that the young Buddhist monk must know very little about buying crickets.

The afternoon was almost over and it was time to go home. Many of the flower and bird sellers were packing up. Deng and his grandfather began to pack up their crickets. Deng was sad that he had only sold one cricket for 2 yuan. This had not turned out to be the exciting day he had hoped for.

Deng was loading his last cricket into their small cart when he looked up to see the Buddhist monk walking towards him carrying the little cricket. Deng looked down. He was afraid that the monk was going to try to return the little cricket and want his 2 yuan back. Then Deng would go home with nothing! The monk walked up to Deng.

"I have something I want to give you," said the monk. Deng looked up slowly. He was sure he knew what the monk would say next.

"Your little cricket is a champion. He has done very well for me." The monk held up the cricket in his cage and smiled at him. Deng smiled too. "We have won many competitions today. We have won against crickets that were bigger and stronger. We have also won many prizes today." Deng looked at the little cricket and wondered about the extra ginseng he had fed him.

"I usually give away all my prizes to the poor but we have done so well today that I also want to give you some more money for this champion cricket. I really did not pay you enough for him. It is my way of thanking you." The monk reached into his pocket and removed a large sum of money. He handed it to Deng. There were so many bills and coins that Deng could hardly hold it all. Some coins fell to the ground. Deng bent down to pick them up and when he looked up to thank the monk he was already gone.

Later that night Deng sat on his bed to finally count his money. Slowly he separated the paper money from the coins and began to count. When he finished he had counted 2,000 yuan! Deng counted his money again and still could not believe it. It was late and way past his bedtime. Deng put his head down on his pillow but he knew he would not be able to sleep again tonight, 2,000 yuan was a lot to think about!

Qing Dytnasty (1644 - 1911)
Pair of Cricket Fighting Plaques
porcelain
Cricket Net
metal wire, fabric
Gourd Cricket Cage with Porcelain Lid (Winter Cage)
Cricket Bed
porcelain
Cricket Cage (Singing Cricket Cage)
carved nut, ivory
Cricket Feeder
ceramic
Cricket Feeder
ceramic
Cricket Trap
ivory
© Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, Richmond
Gift of John C. Maxwell, Jr. and Adrienne L. Maxwell.
photo: Katherine Wetzel.