Original Text
A certain Hanlin academician, whose name has been forgotten, was lying in his study one day when he suddenly saw a procession emerging from the corner of the hall. The horses were no larger than frogs, and the men were smaller than fingers. The miniature retinue numbered several dozen, with an official wearing a black gauze cap and embroidered robes, seated in a sedan chair, all filing out through the door. The academician found this exceedingly strange and privately wondered if his eyes had deceived him in a drowsy state. Suddenly, he saw a tiny figure return to the room, carrying a felt bundle as large as a fist, and walk straight to the foot of the bed. The little man announced, "My master has a small gift to present to you, Honorable Academician." Having said this, he stood facing him but did not produce the item. After a moment, he chuckled to himself and added, "This trifling token is likely of no use to you, sir; perhaps it would be better to give it to me instead." The academician nodded, and the little man cheerfully departed with the bundle. No such incident ever occurred again. It is a pity that the academician lacked the courage to inquire into the origins and circumstances of the affair.
Commentary
Feng Zhenluan, a commentator on "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio," once remarked: "The art of word choice in 'Strange Tales' lies in the occasional use of but one or two characters, which, when subtly placed within a sentence, achieve a wondrous effect, vividly depicting scenes as if drawn from the prose of 'Commentary on the Water Classic.'" The tale of "The Minor Official" exemplifies this; though it is but a record of the strange, recounting a fragment of a certain Grand Historian's "drowsy delusion" with little deeper meaning, the minor official's modest procession leaves an indelible impression through such lively metaphors as "horses as large as frogs, men smaller than fingers," and "a felt bundle carried, no bigger than a fist."