Chirp, chirp, and the loom goes clack. Mulan weaves by the doorway. No sound of shuttle or loom, only a girl's sigh. Ask the girl what she thinks of, ask the girl what she remembers. She thinks of nothing, remembers nothing. Last night she saw the army notice: the Khan was calling up troops. The military rolls ran for twelve volumes, and her father's name was on every one. Her father had no grown son, and Mulan had no elder brother. She would buy a horse and saddle, and from then on go to war in her father's place...
Theme:
Not great, but it can be encouraged
No more talk, porridge. . . .