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The story of how Mencius’ mother looked after him whilst he was at school, is very interesting. At first they lived together near a cemetery and little Mencius amused himself with acting the various scenes which he saw at the graves. “This,” said his mother, “is not the place for my boy.” So she went to live in the market street. But the change brought no improvement. The little boy played then at being a shopkeeper, offering things for sale and bargaining with imaginary customers. His devoted mother then took a house beside a public school. Now the child was interested by the things which the scholars were taught, and tried to imitate them. The mother was pleased and said: “This is the proper place for my son.” Near their new house was a butcher’s shop. One day Mencius asked what they were killing pigs for. “To feed you,” answered his mother. Then she thought to herself, “Before this child was born I wished him to be well brought up, and now that his mind is opening I am deceiving him; and this is to teach him untruthfulness.” So she went and bought a piece of the pork, to make good her words. After a time, Mencius went to school. One day when he came home from school his mother looked up from the loom at which she was sitting, and asked him how far he had got with his books. He answered carelessly that “he was doing well enough.” On which she took a knife and cut through the web she was weaving. The idle little boy, who knew the labour required to weave the cloth, now spoilt, was greatly surprised and asked her what she meant. Then she told him that cutting through the web and spoiling her work was like his neglecting his tasks. This made the lad think and determine not to spoil the web of his life by idle ways; so the lesson did not need to be repeated.[3] Thanks to the care of this wise and patient mother, Mencius grew up to be a famous man.