CORNELL
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

 

THE
CHARLES WILLIAM WASON
COLLECTION ON CHINA
AND THE CHINESE

 

 

 

 
DAYBREAK IN KOREA
 

 

Popat oN Her Way to CuuRcH
Daybreak in Korea

A Tale of Transforma-
tion in the Far East

BY

ANNIE L. A. BAIRD

Missionary of the American Presbyterian Board

 

New York Cuicaco Toronto

Fleming H. Revell Company

Lonpon anvd’7 EDINBURGH
Copyright, 1909, by
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY

SECOND EDITION

New York: 158 Fifth Avenue
Chicago: 80 Wabash Avenue
Toronto : 25 Richmond St., W.
London : 21 Paternoster Square
Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street
PREFACE

HE contents of the following pages are
little more than a compilation and
rearrangement of facts and incidents

such as come daily under the observation of mis-
sionaries in Korea.

To understand something of the utter deg-
radation of a Christless world, one need go no
further than the first chapter of Romans. Yet
as the missionary comes into heart-touch with
his people, he sees in them continual proofs of
the Divine Author. He finds them richly en-
dowed with capacity for high ideals and sacrifice
of self, with power to love, to hate, to enjoy, to
suffer, and to endure. Poetry and fire form part
of their intellectual portion. Everywhere are
masses of noble material, wasted and misused to
an incredible extent, and yet capable, under the
transforming power of the Gospel, of resuming
something of its first God-like character.

“ He hath made of one blood all the nations of
men,” and if the reader is brought to see that
these people are of blood-kin to himself, a prey
to the same hopes and fears, responding as read-
ily to the touch of the great Healer of soul-
diseases, the purpose of the writer will have been
accomplished.

Pyrenc Yanec, Korea.
CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE
I. An UNwILLinG Brive . 3 . i

II. Wire, MorHer, Wipow, SLAVE . 25
III. THe TERROR OF THE UNSEEN . . 40

IV. Tue SuppiicATION oF A MoTHER 48

V. AN ApsorPTION oF NEw IDEAS - 57
VI. Tue Power oF MEEKNESS . . 69
VII. Tue BREAK WITH SIN . : . 86
VIII. Mopern Exorcism is ; ~ 95

IX. A CHANGED WorLD ‘i is: . 107
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

FACING PAGE

Popa on HER Way To CHURCH .  . Title
How WomeEN Carry BABIESIN KorEA . 12
Popar’s CHILpHoopD HoME . . = . «9
A WATER CARRIER mo le oko “teh Ge BG

FIRST-BORN, SECONDLY, AND SORROWFULLY 49

Tue REGENERATED SIM SSI . , ‘i . Ior
DAYBREAK IN KOREA

I
AN UNWILLING BRIDE

RANDFATHER KIM sat out under the
wide eaves on the sunny side of the
house, weaving the autumn supply of

straw shoes for the family. It was summertime,
but Grandfather Kim was old and his blood ran
slow, and so he sat inthe sun. Long practice had
made him deft at his work, and as his stubby old
fingers twisted the straw in and out, his gaze
wandered continually to the range of low hills
that faced his dwelling. They were covered to
the very top with low green mounds, some
evidently very old, and sunk almost out of sight.
Others were more recent, and one or two were
not yet grass-clad, and showed the fresh marks
of the spade.

As the old man wove he looked, and as he
looked he crooned:

“Humps and hollows, just look at that hillside !
I'll be like that, too, when once I have died.”

Over and over again went the refrain in a
round that seemed to have neither beginning nor

end.
11
12 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

Pobai drew near and sat down on the mat be-
side her grandfather, an attempt at ease which
was resented so vigorously by the fat baby tied
on her back, that she got up again and readjusted
her burden rather wearily. She was nearly
twelve years old, with round cheeks that glowed
red under the olive skin, and a heavy braid of
glossy black hair hanging down her back. Only
perfect cleanliness was lacking to make her a very
wholesome little girl to look upon, but Pobai was
almost always rather dirty. She would have
liked to be clean, but so much of her time and
strength went into helping her mother keep the
men of the family immaculately clad, that she
hardly ever had time to think of herself. Only
last night she and her mother had sat up until
long after midnight, facing each other across the
flat ironing-stone and pounding away with the
ironing-sticks, so that her father might have a
freshly ironed suit in which to go to the fair.
They had felt very proud of him as they watched
him, stiffly starched and spotless, picking his way
through the heaps of filth that lined the road
with the air of a gentleman of leisure. But now
her head ached a little, and the baby seemed un-
usually heavy.

“Tell me a story, grandfather,” she said.

“Tell you a story, Pobai? What kind of a
story do you want?”

“Oh, anything, grandfather; only something
different from what you’ve been singing.”
AN UNWILLING BRIDE 13

“Something different from what I’ve been
singing? Well, if you don’t want to hear about
one kind of a taisa [important affair] I’ll tell you
a story about another. Have I ever told you
about the courtship of Mr. Earthworm and Miss
Thousandlegs? Well, once upon a time there
was a gentleman named Mr. Earthworm who
had avery long body, longer than any one else in
the village, so long, in fact, that it took a small
fortune to clothe him, so that he had to go naked
most of the time. Well, one day when twice
eight green springs had passed over his head, he
looked about him and saw everybody else paired
off, going around in couples, two by two, so he
determined to seek a union with Miss Thousand-
legs, a lady of a neighbouring village. Now Miss
Thousandlegs was distinguished above all her
friends and acquaintances by the number of her
legs. There was no one else anywhere who had
so many legs and feet as she, and it seemed very
suitable that two such remarkable people should
come together in marriage. Everything went
along without a hitch, and Mr. Earthworm was
looking forward to his wedding-day with many
bright hopes, when one day a letter came from
the lady, saying that she had been thinking the
matter over, and had come to the conclusion that ~
the task of making clothes for such a long man
as he was, was too tiresome a business to look
forward to for the rest of her life, and she
wanted him to let her off from the contract. Mr.
14 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

Earthworm felt a good deal hurt for a while,
but presently he wrote back that he was glad she
had broken the match off, because, come to think
about it, the job of weaving her shoes from year
to year would keep him a good deal busier than
the making of his clothes would her. So that
was the end of it. You see, the mistake Miss
Thousandlegs made was in dwelling on other
people’s defects instead of her own, and in
trying to shirk her duty. So she has gone
barefoot ever since, and been despised by every-
body.”

The little girl’s merry laugh did not ring out
as the old man had expected. Instead, she said
soberly: “I don’t like stories about getting
married.”

“Oh, you don’t?” said the old man, looking at
her downcast face sharply. “ Well, now, let me
tell you, Pobai, that the three great affairs of life,
—birth, marriage, and death,—are all alike in
one particular, and that is that you can’t escape
them. Got to come to it, you know, whether you
like it or not.”

“ Oh, but must I, grandfather? Why must I?”
cried the little girl, with a sudden burst of feel-
ing. She came close up to the old man and stood
by him, her little body breathless and trembling.
“Why can’t I stay at home and help with the
work like I always have? You know how hard
I work. And you, grandfather, who will bring
your pipe and light it for you, and get straw
AN UNWILLING BRIDE 15

when you want it, and spread your mat for you
in the sun, if I am gone?”

The old man let his work fall and looked at
her. “ Why, what good would you be, Pobai, if
you don’t get married? You would be no better
than a pyungsin [deformity] or a tol-kei-chip
[stone woman].”

“ But not now, grandfather; by and by, when
I get older,” urged the little girl, desperately.

“Older? Why, you are already nearly twelve
years old. I guess it’s got to be before very long,
Pobai. You know the money has already been
paid for you, and your father needs it badly.
Sooner or later it’s got to be.” He took up his
work again and his gaze wandered off once more
to the hillside. “Got to be, got to be,” he
crooned, rocking his body back and forth.

‘‘ Got to be, got to be,
Whether it’s youor whether it’s me.”

That night when the sun was down, and the
big baby asleep at last on the floor, Pobai
started across the village to borrow a charcoal
iron. Her spirits were heavy, and she went with
dragging feet. The little mud-walled houses
with roofs of straw and doors and windows of
paper, jutted out on the street, if street it could
be called, and crowds of little children, escaping
from the close, hot rooms, swarmed in her path,
skipping and dancing in the moonlight, and sing-
ing over and over a little song:
16 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

“Down falls the sun behind the west mountain ;

Up springs the moon from the side to the eastward.”

In front of the doors as she went along, mats
were spread and men were gambling. From
behind one closed door came the sound of ex-
postulations, the heavy thud of a club and
shrieks. Then the door burst open, and a woman
rushed out, her clothes torn from her, her heavy
black hair hanging in dishevelled strands nearly
to her knees. Hurtling through the air after
her came a heavy stick. “Old man Wun is
drunk again,” thought Pobai.

In a lighted doorway Pobai saw a little girl
no older than herself whom she knew very well.
It was Shining Peachblossom. Times had been
hard not long before, and the parents of Shining
Peachblossom had combed her hair and dressed
it carefully with oil and perfume, and arrayed
her in silks and brocades, and sent her in to the
magistracy to be a kesaing [dancing-girl].

Now she was back again, and Pobai saw that
she was panting as if she had been running.
Her face looked very wan and thin and un-
childlike under the powder and paint, and Pobai
heard her say: “Oh, if you'll just let me stay
quietly at home, mother, you don’t know how
hard I will work. It’s dreadful down where I
am. I’m afraid, I’m afraid!” Pobai did not
hear the answer, but presently there was the
sound of a push, a little cry, the slam of a door,
and looking back, she saw Shining Peachblossom
AN UNWILLING BRIDE 1%

fallen a little crumpled heap by the side of the
path.

Further on a terrible stench saluted her
nostrils, and she quickened her pace. How
much longer could the village endure it? In
that wretched house to the right, the body of a
dead man had lain for more than a month. He
‘was a murderer and had been beaten to death
by the magistrate’s orders, and permission to
bury the body refused. The villagers well knew
what that meant. A large sum of money must
be collected and paid to the magistrate to secure
his consent to the interment, but they were all
exceedingly poor, and so the festering corpse
lay there day after day through the hot summer
weather.

Presently as she turned homeward, her errand
accomplished, the Whang brothers met her in
the way. They were demon-possessed, and
each had a bag on his breast suspended by a
string around the neck, and filled with scraps of
iron, pebbles, old straw shoes, and filthy rags.
In these bags the demons dwelt, and as the men
went along, bending half double under the
weight, they were holding muffled conversation
with their familiars.

As the child sped on with hastening footsteps,
it seemed to her that all the vast areas of space
between the little children dancing in the moon-
light and singing their quaint song, up to the
great shining moon herself, sailing so calmly
18 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

through the high heavens, must be filled with
sin and suffering and sorrow and wrong.
Grandfather’s refrain:

‘“Got to be, got to be,
Whether it’s you or whether it’s me,”

rang dully in her ears, and she tried to steel her
heart against the future. Yet, when she came
to the gate of her home, she turned suddenly
very sick and faint.

There in the doorway stood a coolie, evidently
just arrived; on his back a large package. Pobai
watched her mother open the package and take
out, one after another, bolts of shimmering silks,
brocades, and gauzes, some of dainty, evanescent
tints, others deep hued as the rainbow. There
were bolts of white muslin for plainer wear, and
ornaments of wrought silver and coral for hair
and breast. It was a pretty sight; yet the little
girl in the shadow of the gate felt someway un-
able to stand, and clutched at the gatepost for
support. It had come, the present from the
family of the bridegroom of goods, which the
bride and her mother were expected to make
into garments for herself and for the little boy
husband whom she had never seen. Soon must
follow the wedding and the home-going with
these strange people, into a life of hard
drudgery, with hardly ever a glimpse of her own
father and mother, brothers and sisters, again.

Long after the coolie had gone away Pobai
ANOP{ GOOHATIH?) SIvadog

 

 

 
AN UNWILLING BRIDE 19

still crouched against the gatepost, trying in her
childish way to weigh and measure her future,
and the possibility of being able to bear it, and
it was not until her mother had come to the
door several times and peered anxiously into the
darkness that the little girl got slowly to her
feet and made her way into the house.

“What made you so long?” asked the mother,
sharply.

For answer the little girl sank down on the
floor and turned her head away.

“T feel ill, mother,” she said; ‘“ my head aches
and I feel faint.”

“ Perhaps you didn’t eat enough supper,” said
her mother, not unkindly. “But here’s some-
thing that will make you feel all right. Just
look at these beautiful pieces of goods. Not a
bit too good, though. They ought to pay well
for what they’re getting. The things haven’t
come any too soon. We'll have to work hard
to get everything ready in time.”

Pobai’s heart sank very low, and she could
hardly find breath to ask, “ When is it to be,
mother?”

“ Six weeks from to-day is a lucky day, Blind
Man E says, and the only lucky day for three
months, so it’ll have to be then.”

Pobai lay very still on the floor while her
mother bustled around, putting the bolts of goods
away. Presently her father and brothers came
in and smoked their evening pipes. Then they,
20 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

too, sprawled out on the floor for the night, and
all was still. After what seemed to Pobai a
long, long time she fell asleep, and did not wake
until she heard her mother scraping the embers
together in the kitchen fireplace. Ordinarily she
sprang to her feet and was on hand to help with
the work, doing often the larger share, but this
morning, and the next, and the next, she lay
still on the floor with her face turned to the wall,
eating hardly anything, and saying in response
to all inquiries, “ Please let me be. My head
aches and I feel faint.”

Her father and mother looked at each other,
and formed the words “ Kwun pyung” [feigned
illness] with their lips. They bore with her
until the fourth day, and then her mother came
in and took her by the hand and said:

“Come, Pobai, it’s no use. You have to be
ready when the time comes, and I can’t do it all
myself. Get up, dear. I know it’s hard, but
it’s the way of the world. I was glad when you
were born, after the two boys, and that was
why I called you Pobai [Treasure], and you’ve
always been a treasure to me, but all the time I
knew that the years would fly by like a spring
dream and the day would come, all too soon,
when we would have to part. Now it is nearly
here, and you will have to be ready for it. It’s
a hard world, my child, very hard, but we have
it to bear. Maybe you'll be born a man in the
next world, who knows? I suppose you'll have
AN UNWILLING BRIDE 21

to be if you get in at all. Well, what shall we
begin with? A pair of trousers for him? I'll
cut them out, and you can quilt them with your
closest and finest stitches. I don’t want his
folks to have any reason to say that you have not
been well brought up.”

So Pobai took her first great lesson in the
doctrine of hopeless resignation to the inevitable,
which her mother and countless generations of
grandmothers before her had learned and prac-
tised with varying degrees of success. Day after
day and till late at night she sat and stitched and
stitched, until her fingers were as numb as her
heart, and daily the pile of pretty garments grew.
Then came days of preparation for the feast.
Heaps on heaps of rice-flour bread, made in a
great mass, and pounded with a big wooden
mallet on a huge stone until it had reached the
proper degree of toughness; stacks of rich,
brown oil-cakes, made of honey, wheat-flour, oil,
and ground sesame seed; bowls and bowls of
buckwheat vermicelli, mixed with dogmeat, and
sprinkled liberally with red pepper; more bowls
full of sliced turnips covered with brine and also
very hot with pepper; platters of parched rice
pressed into cakes and colored a bright red;
whole sides of scrawny pork, and chickens boiled
whole—such were some of the good things that
Pobai and her mother worked hard to prepare.

On the day of the ceremonial feast Pobai sat
as motionless as Buddha in the centre of the
22 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

floor, the dusky rose of her cheeks covered with
thick white and red paint, her head adorned with
a great quantity of false hair, which was stuck
full of heavy silver, brass, and coral ornaments,
the whole surmounted by a crown of red and
gold paper. Her chokeri, a short jacket reach-
ing a little below the armpits, was of bright green
silk, and her skirt was of red silk gauze over
blue. From her girdle hung a heavy bunch of
ornaments of wrought silver, coral, and jade,
conspicuous among them a mounted tiger’s claw.
Her eyes were cast down, and through all the
hubbub of people coming and going, and pressing
close upon her, of constant audible comments,
favorable and otherwise, she never moved a
muscle, or seemed either to see or hear. At
intervals one and another of the group of brides-
maids who surrounded her lifted the huge mass
of hair and metal slightly from her head, and
afforded her a moment’s relief from its weight.

Outside the door, on a large mat, and shaded
by a light awning, the feast was spread, and a
host of neighbours, friends, and relatives came
and went, helping themselves at their pleasure.
Pobai’s father was in evidence, playing the host
with a good deal of elegance, but her mother
hardly emerged from the kitchen. She had on
her oldest and dirtiest clothes, and her hair had
certainly not been combed for several days.
Why should one rejoice and don gay apparel on
the occasion of losing a daughter?
‘AN UNWILLING BRIDE 23

By and by, after long waiting, the bridegroom
appeared, attended by several friends and rela-
tives. He was a little fellow about ten years
old, gorgeously attired in a long coat of
purple and green silk brocade, with a
winged horsehair cap on his head, and
a square of beautifully embroidered Chinese
characters, signifying long life and hap-
piness, fastened to his back. He was far too
sulky and shy, even if he had not been indiffer-
ent, to cast so much as a glance toward the little
bride, and it was only after much pulling and
pushing and prompting from all sides, that
the little pair were got into position,
facing each other across a mat with a
low table between them, upon which was
placed a wooden goose—the type of con-
jugal fidelity—and the ancestral tablets of the
two families. Then followed various genuflex-
ions and prostrations to each other, to the ances-
tral tablets, and to heaven. Pobai went through
it all in a sort of dull maze. The old grand-
father had taken up his station near her, and at
intervals during the ceremony Pobai heard, or
thought she heard, him crooning low to himself
his improvised dirge:

“Got to be, got to be,
Whether it’s you, or whether it’s me.”

At last, after what seemed a long time, the
ceremony came to an end, the imposing array of
24 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

good things was reduced to a few scattered frag:
ments, the scraggy little pony, which had brought
the bridegroom, stood saddled and _bridled,
awaiting its rider, and the bearers of the sedam
chair, which was to carry away the little bride,
were clamouring to be off. Pobai was conscious
of being hurried into the chair and packed in
closely all around with the articles of her wed:
ding trousseau. She caught a glimpse of her
mother’s bent shoulders in the kitchen, then she
was picked up and carried jogging away after the
strange boy who had become her husband. Hour
after hour they travelled, with occasional stops
for rest and refreshment, and it was long after
noon of the second day when they arrived at the
bridegroom’s home in the village of Cho Wangi
[Royal Helpfulness] and she saw her new rela-
tives for the first time. Here another great
feast was spread, and here again she sat motion-
less for hours, the centre of all eyes. It was
late at night when the last guest departed. The
little bridegroom was already sound asleep, finery
and all, at one side of the room.

“Get off your things and get to sleep,” said
her mother-in-law. “ There’s a lot of work to
do to-morrow, and you'll have to get up early.”

Thus Pobai’s married life began, only one of
many faltering little barks that set sail on un-
known seas in lands where tender mercies are
cruel.
 

A WatER CARRIER
II
WIFE, MOTHER, WIDOW, SLAVE

AYS and weeks and months and years
Il) wore slowly by. If merely being busy

could have satisfied her woman’s heart,
Pobai would have felt no lack, for from early
morning until late at night she seldom had
a moment of leisure. Every drop of water that
was used in the house she brought from the
river, more than a quarter of a mile away, carry-
ing it in an earthenware jar on her head. Often
at two o’clock in the morning the heavy thump,
thump, thump of the big wooden rice-huller was
heard, and the patient foot that released the bar
for every thump was Pobai’s. Over and over
again midnight found her pounding away on the
ironing-stone in order that her husband or her
father-in-law might walk abroad the next day
clad in fresh garments of white linen, smooth
and glistening. Sometimes the moon shone
down on her late at night as she sat at the
riverside with the family washing spread out on
a large stone, alternately pounding, rinsing, and
turning. This washing at the riverside was not
so hard in the summer, but in the winter when

25
26 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

she had to break the ice with her pounding-stick
and dip the garments in and out of the freezing
current, she often suffered bitterly, and more
than once, when the ice banks began to take on
lovely hues of rose and violet, and the piled up
hummocks of snow seemed to turn into downy
couches, warm and alluring, she had gathered
herself together with an effort and hastened
home to keep from freezing to death.

When the mild spring days came she hurried
through the housework and went into the field,
where she sowed and transplanted, weeded and
hoed. With the late summer and fall came the
harvest, and she helped to winnow and put
away the grain. Then came the making of
“kimehi,” the staple pickle of the country, and
Pobai pared and sliced bushels of turnips and
put them up in prepared brine in great brown
earthenware jars nearly as tall as herself, and
of much ampler proportions as to girth. In the
winter she spun hanks on hanks of cotton thread
and wove it into bolts of goods, sitting hour after
hour at the heavy loom, until her weary feet and
back almost refused to make another move.

All day long and from year’s end to year’s end
she wrought, through the bright years of her
girlhood, and got in return something to wear,
a scanty two meals of food a day, and a place to
sleep at night. Her parents-in-law were not
cruel, as many were, only hard and indifferent.
She had never cared much for her husband, or
WIFE, MOTHER, WIDOW, SLAVE 27

he for her, and he paid her very little attention
except to complain when his clothes were not
washed and ironed properly, or his food not pre-
pared to his liking. He was considered one of
the promising boys of the village, and went every
day to a Confucian school at the end of the
town. Pobai passed it regularly on her way to
the river, and sometimes caught a glimpse of
the old teacher, sitting cross-legged at the far
end of the room, quite awful with his long white
beard, his huge black goggles, and the bundles of
switches hanging on the wall behind him. In
front of him, with the other urchins, sat her hus-
band, rocking back and forth and shouting the
names of the Chinese characters at the top of his
voice. Sometimes husband and wife passed
each other on the street, but without a sign of
recognition. He would have died rather than to
have appeared to know her; and if any one had
been rude enough to have asked Pobai in those
days what her husband’s name was, she would
have blushed and hung her head, and intimated
that she hardly knew.

Once when she was about fifteen years old,
it occurred to Pobai that she would like to learn
to read. She revolved the matter a long time in
her mind before she gathered courage to speak,
but one day when her mother-in-law was out,
and she and her husband were alone in the house,
she ventured to prefer her request. Her hus-
band was sitting on the floor with his book
28 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

spread out before him, inscribing imaginary
characters on the palm of one hand with the
forefinger of the other. He finished the last
character with an elaborate flourish before he
answered her.

“Want to learn to read?” he said, with a
scornful laugh. “ When water begins to run up-
hill, it’ll be worth while to try to teach you any-
thing.”

“ Oh, I don’t mean Chinese,’ Pobai answered,
flushing; “of course, I could never learn that.
But just our own native character, I thought,
perhaps——”

But her husband had turned again to the study
of cabalistic designs on his palm, and did not
look up, and Pobai slipped back again to the
kitchen with its dirt floor and rafters hanging
with cobwebs and soot.

When she was eighteen years old her baby
was born. The advent of the little one had been
awaited impatiently by the grandparents, and
with good reason. Heretofore all the grand-
children born into the family had been girls.
The old people were getting up in years, and if
they should die without the assurance of con-
tinued male posterity, their shades would have
no rest, and the family would be under a
curse.

So it was important that a boy should be born,
and Pobai was more anxious than any one else.
What little happiness she knew, and any earthly
WIFE, MOTHER, WIDOW, SLAVE 29

honour that she could hope to attain, depended
upon her becoming the mother of a son.

When the hour of her trial arrived, her hus-
band donned his best raiment, took his long pipe,
and went with his usual deliberate step to the
sarang [reception room] of a neighbouring gen-
tleman. Doubtless if he thought of anything as
he went along, his mind revolved around the
Confucian precept, conned over and over at
school, to the effect that any one who allowed
himself to be swerved in the least from his usual
course by any consideration of wife or child,
was undeserving of the name of man. When
evening came he betook himself to his home.
His mother met him at the door with a gloomy
face.

“Tt was all for nothing,” she said.

He stared at her a moment, as if to make sure
of the disagreeable truth, and then his calmness
forsook him. Taking his long-stemmed pipe in
both hands, he broke it into half a dozen bits and
ground them into the earth with his heel, then
turned and disappeared in the twilight. It was
more than a week before the household saw him
again.

But for Pobai the coming of the little stranger,
unwelcome though she had been, stirred the first
great passion of her life. Oh, the comfort and
satisfaction! Oh, the utter richness and sweet-
ness of it, as she held the baby girl in her arms,
and fed her from her breast, and watched the
30 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

tiny fingers unfold, and the long sweep of the
lashes against the cheek, and listened for the
balmy breath that came and went like the lightest
summer zephyr. Skies of East or West, skins
of brown or white, mother hearts beat to the
same tune the world over, and Pobai grew bold
with love.

She was up again in a few days; there was
too much work to be done for the mother of a
girl to lie long abed, and when her husband put
in his appearance again she held the baby out to
him.

“See how sweet she is,’ she said. ‘“ What
shall we call her?”

“Call her anything you like,” he answered,
turning away. “Call her Supsuphi [Regret-
fully] or Meephi [Hateful]—only don’t bother
me with it.”

So Pobai gathered her little daughter to her
bosom, and called her Kwehi [Precious], and
loved her with the love of both father and
mother.

When the baby was about six months old, and
the hills and plains were covered deep with
winter snows, the boy-father came home one
evening complaining of a pain in his side. He
could not lie down with comfort, but sat up all
night and until next evening. Then saying that
he felt better, he attempted to rise to his feet,
fell back, gasped once or twice, and died.

Here was calamity. He had not cared for his
WIFE, MOTHER, WIDOW, SLAVE 431

wife, but had afforded her protection and a
home. Now sullen looks were cast at her as she
went about her work with affected composure.
The older brother would move in now with his
family, and there would be no room for Pobai
and her little girl. The family held whispered
consultations, and she caught the words, “ Pretty
yet,” “ A good price,” and she knew the danger.
They would sell her to whomever would give the
money and take her away.

Pobai’s wits were hard at work as she bent
over the huge rice-pot or scoured the brass
bowls until they shone again, but no way out
opened up to her. In her old home the mother
was dead and another woman in her place. Old
grandfather was long in his dotage, her two
brothers had brought their wives home, and the
house was more than full. Even if there had
been any hope of a welcome there, she had no
way of getting any word to them.

But now a rumour reached her that drove all
thoughts of self away, and filled her with pal-
pitating terror for her baby. Her nearest neigh-
bour whispered it to her one morning at the door.

“The Sonnim [guest] has come!”

The sonnim! The dreadful guest who
brought with him nausea and burning fever,
bursting pain of head and back, and loathsome
sores on face and body; who took his pitiless
way through every household where there were
little children, leaving behind him, so often, only
32 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

silence where the sound of baby voices and the
patter of little feet had been.

The two women looked at each other in
silence. Her neighbour was older, the mother of
five, although she only counted the three older
ones, because the two younger ones had not yet
been visited by the Sonnim.

“We can wait and see whether or not he is
going to be easily satisfied,’ she said, finally,
“and if not, we can try some charms.”

Two nights later she came to the door, and
calling Pobai out, whispered in her ear: “ The
two Wang children are dead and the Han
baby.”

“Oh, what can we do?” was the whisper in
return.

“Sh-h! He may hear. Maybe we can fool
him. To-night at midnight I will bring our chil-
dren to the dog-hole in our gate. You be there
and take them and keep them till morning, and
then if he comes in the night and finds our house
empty, it may be that he will pass on. The next
night you bring your baby and hand it through
to me, and I will do the same for you.”

It was done, yet a few days later the children
of both households lay tossing and moaning, hot
with fever and muttering incoherent sounds.

Pobai tried every art she knew. She made a
rude horse of straw and placed it outside the
gate, in the hope that the evil spirit might be
induced to mount and ride away. Then when
WIFE, MOTHER, WIDOW, SLAVE 33

the hideous sores broke out on baby’s tender face
and breast, she knelt before her in pretended ad-
miration.

“See the pretty flowers! See the beautiful
blossoms!” she cried, shudderingly. But the
implacable spirit heeded not, and baby grew
worse hour by hour.

The neighbour’s children were worse too, and
when night came the two women slipped away
to see old Sim Ssi, the moodang [sorceress].

They found the old woman brewing a decoc-
tion over a little iron brazier full of glowing
charcoal, the only light in the room. As they
went in, she was cutting up with great care a
few shreds of meat from the carcass of a yellow
dog. This she added to the brew. Then she
reached up to a shelf above her head and took
down two small packages. One contained the
eyebrows of a tiger, and these she clipped fine
and put into the pot. The other contained the
dried bodies of half a dozen purple and gold
beetles, gathered without the touch of hand, on a
summer morning when the dew was heavy.
These she took up carefully with a pair of small
silver tweezers and added to the mixture. As
she bent over the fire the shadow of her nose
was thrown up against her forehead, making her
look like a sort of grim unicorn. Her face was
crossed and recrossed with deep seams, and one
yellow tooth protruded from her mouth and
rested upon her lip.
34 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

Presently, when the brew seemed to be mixed
to her satisfaction, she looked up and addressed
her visitors.

“What’s wanted?” she asked, briefly.

“The Sonnim,” both women responded in a
breath.

“The Sonnim! I thought so,” with a short
laugh. “I know him and he knows me. Well,
what about it?”

“We want you to come and drive him away,”
they answered tremblingly.

For answer the old woman opened a box in
the corner of the room and took out what seemed
to be the dried carcass of a small animal. She
laid it across her knees and stabbed it repeatedly
with a sharp piece of bamboo. As she did so, a
squealing sound was heard, emanating, ap-
parently, from the carcass.

“ There’s life there,” the old woman said
emphatically. “ Your children can be saved.”

There was a long silence in the room before
the women ventured to ask, “ How much will it
take?”

“More than you’ve got, likely,” was the
answer.

“Will one hundred yang [five dollars] be
enough?” asked the neighbour woman, hesitat-
ingly.

“Maybe—to begin on. And you?” turning
to where Pobai stood in the semi-darkness.

Alas, poor Pobai! She had not a cash in the
WIFE, MOTHER, WIDOW, SLAVE 35

world. Her silence told the story, and the old
woman laughed again.

“Strapped, eh? This is a poor place to come
to without money.” Then, as Pobai still said
nothing, she added with apparent irrelevance:
“ My supply of fuel is getting low.”

Still Pobai made no reply, and the old woman
added, as she peered into the pot bubbling over
the fire: “ That’s a fine-looking stack of straw
that you have in your front yard.”

“ But it isn’t mine,” stammered Pobai.

“Tt doesn’t need to be. You bring it to me
and it’ll be mine,” said the old woman, coolly.

“ But how can I? They’ll see me.”

“It’s broad noon all the day round at your
house, is it?” retorted the old woman. “Use
your wits, if you’ve got any, and bring me that
straw between now and daylight, if you want
anything done for your child. I can’t come to
either place before that time, anyway, and
whether I come to your place at all depends on
how you put in the time between now and then.”

She took the pot off the fire and began pour-
ing the mixture into a row of little white bowls.
Evidently the interview was over, and the two
women hurried homeward over the frozen road.

Pobai found little “ Precious” lying as she
had left her, on the floor, but a change had surely
taken place during the mother’s brief absence.
She was not moaning and tossing now, but
seemed to be resting quietly, and as her mother
36 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

entered she raised her swollen lids with what
was certainly a glance of recognition. Maybe,
oh, maybe the evil spirit knew already that Sim
Ssi was coming to drive him away, and was
beginning to take his departure in anticipation.
She put her breast to the baby’s mouth and
pressed a few drops of nourishment into the little
throat, almost too sore and swollen to swallow.
Again baby looked into her mother’s face, and
lifted her hand for the first time since the evil
Guest had come, and laid it on her mother’s
breast. When she was put down again on the
floor she fell at once into a restful sleep.

Pobai rose stealthily to her feet and looked
about her. Her mother-in-law was asleep and
breathing hard. Her father-in-law was evi-
dently spending the night away, and that was
fortunate. She slipped out to the strawstack
and attacked it with all her might. Load after
load, all she could carry on her back, was trans-
ferred to the moodang’s house, and when the
first cold streaks of dawn appeared in the east
only a few scattered wisps were left.

Carefully brushing any telltale bits of straw
from her hair and garments, she reéntered the
house. Scarcely had she done so when she
heard the sound of trampling feet in the
dooryard. The door was jerked open, and
her father-in-law thrust in his face.

“ Here she is,” he said. Then he was pushed
aside and another man leaped into the room,
WIFE, MOTHER, WIDOW, SLAVE 87

seizing her by her arms, pinioning them to her
side, and dragged her through the doorway.
She knew him by sight. She had seen him more
than once through the wicker fence as he took
his drunken way homeward after a bout with his
cronies. He was not old, except in sin, and his
face would have been handsome but for the flush
and bloat of dissipation. It seemed to her now
like the visage of a demon as he bent over her,
his hot breath blasting her cheek. She remem-
bered like a flash that she had heard only a day
or two before that his wife had just died and
that he was in need of some one to take care of
the house.

His mates were with him in full force, and
they helped him bind the struggling girl and
carry her through the gateway. She saw her
mother-in-law come to the door with a little
bundle in her arms, and heard her say, “ Here,
take this along. We don’t want it here.”

“Neither do we. Keep it yourself,” was the
answer.

“It’s going to die, anyway. Take it along,”
the woman urged. Then she saw her neighbour,
the mother of the sick children, rush out and
wrap a comfort around the baby and press it
into the arms of one of the men.

Outside the gate they met old Sim Ssi with
drum and cymbals and sacrificial table, ready to
begin the exorcism of the unwelcome Guest.
She was a person of might in the community,
38 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

and when Pobai saw her, her lips opened with
the first sound that she had uttered, “ Help, oh,
help!” she cried. But the old woman only
stepped aside to let the party go by. “I got the
straw, anyway,” she muttered to herself, with a
dry smile.

Pobai never had any very clear recollection of
the next half-hour. Sometimes she was aware
of being dragged along the ground by a rope
around the waist, the frozen clods snatching at
her garments and tearing the skin from her flesh.
Sometimes she was on her feet, making desperate
efforts to keep from being thrown. If she suf-
fered any physical pain she did not know it. All
her thoughts were with that little helpless
bundle, whether left behind or whether some-
where in the party, she did not know.

In this way she reached her captor’s home, a
good tile-roofed house at the farther end of the
long, straggling village. The man whose prop-
erty she was now to be, cut the straw ropes that
bound her and gave her a push into the kitchen.

“Get to work,” he said. “I want my break-
fast, and a good one.”

Presently the baby was handed in to her. The
wadded comfort had slipped away from the little
limbs and she was icy cold. But the breath still
came and went between the parted lips, and Pobai
bound her to her back, hoping that the warmth
of her own body would restore her. For a little
while the hope seemed justified, but as the day
WIFE, MOTHER, WIDOW, SLAVE 39

wore on and she hurried from one task to
another, she became aware that the burden on
her back was becoming heavier and colder, and
she could discern no movement of the baby
chest. She made no sign, but wrought on till
night came, and her lord and master had gone
across the street to the wineshop. Then she
took down a “humi,”’ a little short-handled,
sharp-pointed hoe, from its peg under the eaves,
and went out in the dark. She selected a spot
on the frozen plain apart from the huddled
groups of houses, and there she scraped away the
snow and scooped a little hollow as best she
could in the hard earth. Then she took baby’s
little body—it was quite stiff now—from her
back, and wrapped it in the wadded comfort and
laid it in the hollow. There was not earth
enough to cover it, but she managed to loosen a
few stones from their frozen beds and piled them
up in a sort of cairn to keep the dogs away.
Then she stole back to the house.
II
THE TERROR OF THE UNSEEN

\ ’ J HY Pobai did not put an end to her
wretched life in the days and weeks
and months and years that followed,
T do not know, except it was because the good
God had something better in store for her.
Often, as she sat at the riverside with her heap of
washing, and watched the dark current flowing
swiftly by, the thought of how sweet it would
be to sink beneath those waves and never come
back to a world so bereft of hope, welled up in
her mind and almost overpowered her.

That was what sweet Basil Firstborn had done
when her husband drove her away and put an-
other woman in her place. Pobai had watched
them drag the body out of the river and
had seen the girlish features swollen out of
all recognition, and the long hair hanging
in wet strands to the ground. It would have
been easy to have swallowed lye and died a
slow death from starvation, as Willow Gentle
had done, or to have taken the little bit of
opium that brought the long, untroubled sleep.
But something held her back, and she continued

40
THE TERROR OF THE UNSEEN 41

to live under circumstances that might well have
seemed unbearable.

One blessing she had, and that was the bless-
ing of toil, and toil for others. In the family
which she served were old grandparents, stricken
in years and feeble in mind, and a little child
whom the evil “ Guest ” had visited and deprived
of sight. The old people were taken up with
thoughts of the past and fears for the future,
and did not often address her, but the little boy
learned to love her, and often followed her about
as she went hither and thither, guided by the
light touch of his finger-tips on her skirt.

But the man whom she now called her hus-
band—he was known to his acquaintances as
Pang Mansiki—never in those days gave her one
sign of sympathy or love. Sometimes for weeks
he scarcely noticed her except to strike at her
when she approached with his pipe or his food.
Sometimes, when he did look at her, there was
that in his glance more dreadful than any display
of hate could be.

It was after more than a year of life with him
that she reached the place where she felt it could
no longer be borne, and it was then that she made
another night visit to the home of Sim Ssi. The
old woman took the proffered money and was
ready with two suggestions, to one of which Pobai
listened with a shrinking ear. She remembered
when she was a little girl hearing her mother
tell of a woman who had tried it. She had
42 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

waited until her husband was asleep, and then
had approached him with a vessel of boiling oil
and attempted to pour it into his ear. But her
hand shook and the hot drops fell on his neck.
He sprang up in a fury and sold her for a slave,
and that was the end of it.

To the other suggestion she listened more
readily, and slipping home again she proceeded to
put it into execution. Her husband was asleep,
and too full of liquor to waken readily. Gently
she loosed his garter from about his ankle, and
taking it out of doors cut it into shreds with a
large pair of shears, blowing upon each shred
and muttering as she did so,

‘« Take and break.
Scatter, what matter?
Once begun is undone.”

Then she bowed low to the four points of the
compass, and showered invitations with her hands
to every quarter of the universe, to come, come,
come, come and rid her of the horrid yoke of
this man’s mastership. All done, she slipped
back into the house and awaited tremblingly for
days the coming of the curse. But alas! when
it came it fell not upon her husband, but upon the
two innocent old people, and Pobai, conscience-
stricken, beheld them side by side on the floor,
broken with coughing and burning with fever.

They did not want to die, the poor old heathen
souls. Life had held little for them, but the
future yawned at their feet, black with unspeak-
THE TERROR OF THE UNSEEN 43

able terrors. On the other hand, their son did
not want them to live, and had often secretly
wished that they would die. He begrudged
them the space they occupied in the house and
the little they ate from day to day, but fear of
visitations in the future from their revengeful
ghosts kept him from making objection when
they begged for the old moodang to be sent for.
So she came, bringing with her Ko Pansoo, a
blind man who had not been long in the neigh-
bourhood, but who was supposed to know almost
as much as she herself of the evil powers in this
world and the next, besides being possessed of a
knowledge of geomancy. When they were on
good terms with each other, they plied their
trades together. At other times they were
rivals. He was a wiry little man, with half-
shut orbs that rolled until hardly anything but
the whites was visible.

The old woman cast Pobai a malicious glance
as she went in, and winked, as much as to say,
“You could tell how this came about if you
would, and so could I.” She unceremoniously
cleared the house and porch of the thronging
neighbours and began her work without delay.
Spreading a mat on the maroo, or front porch of
the house, she set thereon three little tables piled
high with sacrificial food. Then she donned a
long, fluttering silk garment over the dirty white
muslin ones that she wore, took a fan in one hand
and a small brass disc in the other, and gave the
44 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

word to Ko Pansoo, who sat at the end of the
porch with a huge drum made of rawhide in
front of him. Boom, boom, boom went the
drum, and old Sim Ssi began to step about in
slow rhythmic measures, swaying from side to
side, now wielding the fan, now addressing the
brass disc, which was supposed to be the medium
of communication with the spirits who were
causing the illness. Presently, warming up to
her work, she cast the fan and disc aside, and
seizing a pair of brass cymbals clanged them
above her head. Faster and faster beat the drum
and away went Sim Ssi, faster and more furious,
swinging, swaying, and swirling, until her flying
skirts threatened to engulf the gaping beholders.

Seizing a handful of the sacrificial food, she
cast it into the air. “Take it and go! Take it
and go!” she cried. Then with a loud shriek
and renewed frenzy, she exclaimed: “ They’re
going! They’ve left the house! They’re out in
the yard! They’re going, going, going, ah-h-h!”

With a great boom and clang the music came
to a sudden stop and dead silence reigned. Man-
siki rushed forward and grasped the moodang by
the arm. ‘“ What are you stopping now for?”
he asked wildly.

“You've had your money’s worth,” the old
woman answered coolly, beginning to strip off
her silk coat.

“No, no, no! Here’s more! Here’s all I
have! Go on! Go on! Don’t stop now4”
THE TERROR OF THE UNSEEN 45

The performance began again, very deliber-
ately, and was carried on hour after hour with
low croonings, mutterings, and swayings back
and forth and from side to side. Evening passed
away, night came and went, and morning found
them still in their places. Spectators began to
pour in again, and two women peered through
the door of the room at the two old people as they
lay side by side, gasping for breath. Their faces
were a ghastly yellow, and they lay quite motion-
less, except for the labouring chests.

“ Let’s bet on it,” said one woman to the other.
“Tl bet you two yang that they are going to
die.”

“Too much risk,” was the answer. “I think
they are, too. They look a lot worse than they
did last night.”

The words reached Sim Ssi’s sharp ears, and
the performance was soon brought to a second
and final stop.

“ There’s great lack of filial feeling here,” she
said, as she packed up the implements of her art.
“T’ve been so poorly paid throughout this whole
affair that I can’t summon any power to prevail.
Five hundred yang more last night would have
done it, but now——”

In vain Mansiki tore his hair and offered to
sell the furniture. The old woman was inexo-
rable, and the pair speedily took their departure,
taking with them the crowd of spectators. The
little group of relatives melted, one by one, till
46 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

only the son was left. Then he, too, casting a
terrified look at the two old faces where the grey
shadow of death was already settling, put on his
hat and shoes and slipped away to the wineshop.
Lastly Pobai went, leading the little blind child
by the hand, both of them cold with deadly fear,
and the old parents were left to face the king of
terrors alone.

Hours later when Mansiki came creeping back,
he found the place empty except for the two
poor heaps of dust on the floor—all that was left
of the two who had reared him and nourished
him, and whose pride he had been. They were
out of the way, at last, and he was not sorry, but
appearances must be kept up. So he loosened
his topknot and rent his garments and howled
until all who passed by exclaimed with wonder:
“ Oh, the filial piety of Pang Mansiki!”

Then Ko Pansoo was called in again and en-
trusted with the responsible duty of selecting a
suitable grave site. The spirits of earth, air,
water, trees, and stones were consulted, and much
money was expended, yet there seemed great
difficulties in the way of a fortunate selection.
One spot, otherwise favourable, was found to be
the bed of numerous small white stones, which,
as everybody knew, would cause the birth of
albinos among the descendants of any one buried
there. Other sites had to be discarded for simi-
lar good reasons. Days went by. Hot weather
was coming on, and the more anxious Mansiki
THE TERROR OF THE UNSEEN 47

grew to make some final disposition of the
mortal remains of his parents, the more difficult
did the selection of a fortunate site seem to be-
come, and the more expensive the services of the
officiating geomancer.

When they were at last laid to rest, Mansiki
found himself burdened with a large debt, beside
having had to part with several of his best fields ;
but his mind was at peace, for had he not done
everything that any man could be expected to do
to insure a future unembarrassed by any visita-
tions from offended spirits?
IV
THE SUPPLICATION OF A MOTHER

S Ko Pansoo walked away from the
A house of Pang Mansiki, feeling his way
along with the help of a long bamboo
stick, and preceded by a little errand boy carry-
ing on his back the last instalment of heavy
copper cash which he had been able to extort
from the writhing Mansiki, his thoughts were
pleasant and a satisfied smile enwreathed his
countenance. He reached forward and fondled
the load of cash on the boy’s back with the point
of his stick. Evidently the wages of sin, for the
time at least, were gratifying.

Several circumstances contributed to his ela-
tion. For one thing, in the race between him-
self and old Sim Ssi as to who would be able to
wring the most money from Mansiki, he had
distanced the old woman for the first time in
their operations together. Heretofore, he had
always been left in the position of reaching out
vainly after the vanishing plum, and scratching
his head in bewilderment that what he had
thought so safe within his grasp was some way
not there. But this time he had won, and the
thought gave him a sense of power. If he could

48
 

 

FIRST-BORN, SECONDLY, AND SORROWFULLY
SUPPLICATION OF A MOTHER 49

get the best of old Sim Ssi, what might he. not
hope to accomplish in the way of overreaching
and deceit?

Having attacked and carried through one dif-
ficult piece of business, he saw himself in the
way to bring about the desire of his heart in an-
other dire-tion, and he proceeded to set about it
without delay. Arriving at his house he was
met by his three little girls, First-born, Secondly,
and Sorrowfully, the names indicating the
several degrees of patience with which he had
endured their successive advents, Across the
road, up to her knees and elbows in the water
of,the rice-field, was a queer-looking hoop made
up of dirty white muslin and bare brown skin.
He heard the chug, chug of her feet as she
moved about in the mud, and either by that token
or by some other he knew it was his wife.

“Here you, Kesiki!” [thing] he shouted.
One end of the hoop emerged from the water,
and displayed hands and arms covered to the
elbows with slime and ooze. “Come here. I
want you.”

Kesiki waded slowly out of the water and
came and stood before her husband. She was a
sodden, heavy-faced woman.

“T think you know what I’m going to say,”
her husband began. “I could stand it once, I
could stand it twice, and I’ve had to stand it
three times, but you know yourself that it
mustn’t happen again. If it does, out you go.”
50 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

The woman cowered visibly. “I’ve done my
best by you,” she said.

“T’m not making any complaints,” her hus-
band replied. “ You’ve been a good enough
wife. I’ve been as well fed and well clothed as
most men, but I must have sons. You know
that as well as I.”

“But what can I do about it?” the woman
asked, with a sort of sullen desperation.

“You haven’t tried the paik il sung kong
[hundred days of overcoming] yet,” he said.

“No, I haven’t, and you know the reason why.
It’s because we’ve never had the money,” she
answered.

“Well, we’ve got it now,” he said in reply,
“and you'd better not lose any time.”

The woman stood a while in silence. Then
she said, heavily:

“Tell not be any use. Myriad Buckwheat-
bloom tried it, and all she got was twin girls.
Lucky Certain tried it and never got anything.
It'll just be a waste of money.”

“Tt will if you go about it that way,” replied
her husband, angrily. “If those other women
failed, it was because they didn’t do it right.
They ate meat on the sly, or they failed to take
a daily bath. If you don’t succeed, it’ll be your
own fault.”

Long before dawn the next morning, before
ever the first spirit-disturbing cock might crow,
Kesiki emerged from the house with a large

2
SUPPLICATION OF A MOTHER 51

basin of copper on her head, and repaired to a
nearby spring which bubbled out of the hillside.
Casting a cautious look around, she put the basin
down, removed her clothing, and lifting a gourd-
ful of the water, poured it in a cool stream over
her neck and shoulders. Over and over she re-
peated this until it ran in a flood to her ankles.
Then stripping the water from her body as best
she could with her bare hands, she hastily donned
her garments, took up the copper basin, and
started on her way up the mountainside to a
Buddhist temple built among the rocks on its
very summit.

The way was long and precipitous, and she was
tired when she reached the top and found her-
self in the midst of the group of massive old
buildings that constituted the monastery. Fortu-
nately, she had met no one by the way. That
would have been ill luck indeed. Two or three
lazy monks greeted her obsequiously. Without
stopping to rest, she put the basin and its con-
tents on the ground and proceeded to build up
a little furnace of stones, over which she placed
the copper basin. With water brought from a
spring at some little distance, she prepared a
good quantity of fine white rice, a great con-
trast to the coarse yellow millet and brown beans
which she always ate herself, and it was soon
bubbling over the fire. When it was done to a
turn, she dipped it out, a snowy, granulated
mass, and heaped it into a brass bowl which she
52 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

placed in the centre of a wooden tray, ‘Around
this she grouped little dishes of vegetable deli-
cacies, red pepper sauce, bean sprouts, white
bean-curd, and spinach. When all was com-
plete she took the tray and presented it first to
the gilt image of Buddha, and then to the rude
painting representing Sam Sin Chei Wang, the
three spirits which preside over childbirth. Be-
fore each she prostrated herself for a long time,
repeating over and over to those deaf ears her
prayer, “ O grant me a son! O grant mea son!”

The summer sun was several hours high when
the last prostration was made, the last prayer
offered, and Kesiki hurried away down the
mountain path, leaving the sacrificial repast
spread out before the imperturbable Buddha.
If there was no added glow of satisfaction upon
Buddha’s features, the same could not be said of
the monks, and during the hundred days that
followed, while Kesiki grew weak and worn
from long days of toil in the fields, and long
tramps up and down the mountainside, and
hours spent in prostrations which should have
been given to restful sleep, the monks grew daily
fatter and lazier, and Buddha never changed at
all.

And now Ko Pansoo, having set into operation
what promised to be a successful plan for secur-
ing a son, and being elated by his recent victory
over Sim Ssi, became lustful of more power.
He, too, repaired to the mountains. With his
SUPPLICATION OF A MOTHER 58

staff in one hand, a bowl, spoon, and a little bag
of coarse millet in the other, he set off for the
far hills. And then a strange thing happened.
He was no sooner out of reach of all prying eyes
than his own half-shut lids flew open, and the
wildly-rolling, inverted orbs suddenly resumed a
normal position, revealing the fact that he was
the possessor of a pair of very keen, sharp little
black eyes. Thrusting the bamboo stick through
his bundle, he swung it over his shoulder, and
took up his way with a lightness of step and
elation of manner oddly at variance with his
usual custom, and then he began to sing. It was
one of the road-songs that all his people know, a
hopeless, reckless ditty set to a strange, minor
refrain.

“Time, O Time, flee not away!
Fresh spring’s ruddy face is growing old.
If we don’t play now, when will we play?
When once we mortals are dead and cold,
Like the mist on the mountains we fade away.
Let us feast, let us play.
If we don’t play now, if we don’t feast now,
When will we feast, and when will we play?

Sometimes he crooned his song and some-
times he shouted it, and every now and then he
took a little skipping step, after the manner of a
blithesome goat. Joyful anticipations of suc-
cess in this new venture filled the mind of Ko
Pansoo.

His visit to the hills was not for a few hours
54 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

a day, or to offer sacrifice to Buddha, or to the
Sam Sin Chei Wang. Away off in the recesses
of the hills, a day’s brisk walk away from home,
in the face of a steep cliff overlooking a brawling
little mountain stream, he found a cave. There
for seven days and nights he sat, never once lying
down, fighting off sleep, eating as seldom and as
little as possible, and telling off prayer after
prayer on his beads. And the presence that he
craved and the power that he sought were the
presence and power of Satan.

At midnight on the seventh day it came to
him. Suddenly he was aware of a presence in
the room, a something that turned his hair to
wire and set his flesh to terrible creeping. No
Egypt was ever darker than the cave where he
sat, and yet he saw before him three creatures
from the pit—one a woman, with hair like snakes
and features distorted with hate and malice and
love of every evil thing; one a half-grown boy,
with three heads and seven tails, and one a man
giant, big and bulging with power to blight and
injure and to destroy. They leaned over him
and held out their hands to him and said:
“Here we are. Take us and command us, only
remember that you are ours at the last.”

Ko Pansoo fell then into what may have been
either a faint or a stupor from protracted loss of
sleep, and lay motionless on the floor of the cave
until the evening of the next day. Then he
dragged himself home, and for several days he
SUPPLICATION OF A MOTHER 55

ate and ate and ate, and slept and slept and slept,
until life and strength came back to him and he
was ready to make a trial of his new-found
power.

He was in the full swing of the first experiment
when Sim Ssi appeared on the scene. What
Sim Ssi saw was Ko Pansoo, once more a blind
man, seated on the ground in the midst of a
group of men, women, and children, drumming
away on his rawhide drum and chanting vocifer-
ously. At the distance of perhaps twenty yards,
on the summit of a little hillock, was a jug of
coarse blue and white earthenware, containing a
long-handled brass spoon, and the eyes of all in
the group were fastened on this jug and spoon.
As Ko Pansoo drummed and chanted a strange
excitement began to take hold on the crowd.

“Tt’s moving! It’s coming! See it jump!
Hear the spoon rattle!” went the comments
from one to another in awestruck whispers.
But what Sim Ssi, looking on from a little dis-
tance, could not see, was any movement what-
ever on the part of the jug. There it stood
where Ko Pansoo had first placed it.

The old woman waited until the astonished
ejaculations of the crowd indicated that they
saw the jug actually leaping into their midst, and
then she strode forward and called out in a loud,
harsh voice: “ You are fools, every one of you.
Here! Look at that jug with my eyes and tell
me what you see.”
56 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

Instantly a hush fell over the crowd. They
began to rub their eyes and to look blankly at
each other. Some laughed foolishly. Others
were very angry, and one man, with an exclama-
tion of rage, applied himself with a vigorous
kick, first to Ko Pansoo’s drum and then to the
gentleman himself. In another moment he
found himself and his drum pushed, shoved,
hustled, and kicked to the edge of the village,
and as a final touch, the blue and white jug came
flying through the air and struck him on the
shoulder.

Sim Ssi stood by and looked on until his dis-
comfiture was complete, and then she broke into
a loud laugh.

“Try it again, young man,” she said. “ Try
it again. Seven days is only a beginning. Nine
times seven is better. Try it again.”
Vv
AN ABSORPTION OF NEW IDEAS

UTUMN was coming on, the fall of the

A year, nowhere so lingering and gracious

as in Korea. The crops had been good,

the harvests bountiful, and what Koreans called

“plenty”? reigned everywhere. The spirit of
thanksgiving stirred in even heathen hearts.

Incidentally, also, there was something more
than the usual ever pressing hunger for ton
[money] in the maws of the crowd of officials at
the neighbouring magistracy. Soa great festival
was appointed (with a lottery in connection),
and the whole countryside was invited in to offer
prayer and sacrifice to the spirits of plains, fields,
river, rain, and anything else that may have
contributed to the success of the harvests. Sor-
cerers, witches, geomancers, every one who pro-
fessed to stand in any relation of influence to the
powers of the lower world, flocked into the
magistracy in a way that announced the presence
of a carcass as no olfactory power could have
done.

For four days and nights these remembrancers
of Satan, in return for a proper and requisite
compensation, kept not silence. With drums,

5%
58 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

cymbals, fifes, violins, noise-making instruments
of every kind, with chants and with dances, they
worshipped him and sang praises to his name, and
in return he honoured them with his presence.
Liquor was everywhere, with every sort of de-
vice for gambling. Dancing girls and evil
women abounded, and altogether, as Satan
looked upon his work, there can be no doubt
that he pronounced it all very good.

It was evening of the last day of the festival,
and the people had begun to disperse to their
homes. Sim Ssi, after reaping a rich harvest,
had packed her paraphernalia and dispatched it
for home on the back of a coolie, and now she
was in for a little diversion before returning to
the humdrum life of her own mountain village.

“ Let’s go and visit the foreigners and see what
they’re like,” she said. The suggestion was all
that was needed, and a moment later Sim Ssi
was leading the way to the missionaries’ homes,
at the head of a little troop of women and girls.

They entered the first foreign compound they
came to, and found there Mr. Missionary and his
wife walking in the little fruit and vegetable
garden which constituted the bulk of their front
yard.

“She’s no lady,” said Sim Ssi, after a
moment’s stare. ‘“ Look at her, out in the open
like any other coolie woman, with nothing over
her face, and her head in the air as if she didn’t
care who looked at her.”
AN ABSORPTION OF NEW IDEAS 59

“She can’t be anything good,” said another,
“or he wouldn’t be hanging around here like this
as if he cared for her.”

Just then the man reached forward and drew
aside an overhanging branch of grapevine which
threatened his wife’s face. “ Look how he wee-
hows [worships] her! Did you ever see any-
thing like that?”

“What a giant he is!” said another. “ He’s
half as long again as any man ought to be.”

“ Horse tail!” cried another. “ Look at her
holding up her chema [dress skirt] like a horse
does his tail.”

As the group of visitors drew nearer, the man,
animated apparently by a desire to conduct him-
self as discreetly as possible, withdrew and left
his wife to receive them.

“Koo gyung chum choo” [Give us a sight-
see], said Sim Ssi, advancing boldly and not
troubling herself to use very polite language.
The foreign woman made no reply in words, but
turned to lead the way into the house, smiling as
she did so, and revealing a set of teeth curiously
ornamented with specks of gold.

“ Did you ever see anything like that now?”
the loud whisper went round. “TI heard that
they were rich, but I didn’t suppose that they
could afford to trim their teeth with gold.”

The house was built after the Korean model,
with cornstalk walls neatly plastered over with
mud, a roof covered with heavy tiles and pro-
60 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

jecting in very wide, overhanging eaves. But
the main room, which was the sitting room, par-
lour, and hall in one, instead of being eight feet
square, was twice that modest dimension, the
mud plaster was concealed behind pretty paper,
and the floor, instead of being made of dried
mud covered with coarse reed mats, was of wood
and covered with neat rugs. An organ, a sew-
ing machine, and typewriter were visible, and
tables and chairs were scattered about. All were
equally unheard of and inconceivable to the
visitors.

“Wonderful, wonderful!” they exclaimed,
gazing about them. “ Are there any such abodes
anywhere except those of mountain spirits?”

“ Please be seated,” said Mrs. Missionary.

Be seated, but where? Old Sim Ssi had
warned them before they entered that it wouldn’t
do to sit on the floor. She had heard that these
foreigners never did. But if not on the floor,
where?

“Take seats, please; I have something that I
want to tell you,” said Mrs. Missionary again,
smiling in a friendly way. It was impossible
to resist the repeated invitation, and Sim Ssi,
making a hurried choice amid such a distracting
confusion of furniture, of what seemed best
adapted to the purpose, proceeded to mount the
centre table, followed by several others.

“Oh no, not there,” interposed the foreign
woman hastily, her features betraying strong in-
AN ABSORPTION OF NEW IDEAS 61

ternal emotion of some kind. “Here, you
know,” indicating the chairs with a wave of her
hand.

Sim Ssi climbed down from the table, trying
not to look disconcerted, and made a second
choice of the baby’s high chair, which stood near.
She was a large woman, and the chair had been
constructed only with reference to infants of
medium size. Horrified anticipations of dis-
aster sat on the missionary’s countenance, but
after a moment of trial, to her great relief the
old woman descended from her perilous perch
and made third choice of a seat, this time a
rocking chair.

Now this rocking chair had accompanied Mrs.
Missionary across the ocean, and had held her in
its wooden arms nearly every day of her one
short year of missionary life. Never once had
it failed to receive her kindly, and to adapt itself
cheerfully to her changing moods and motions.
It was a trusted piece of furniture, and nothing
could have been more unexpected than its be-
haviour at this moment. By some instantaneous
and incomprehensible exertion of muscular force,
this inhospitable rocking chair wrenched itself
from under Sim Ssi and retreated to the corner
of the room, where it remained kicking up its
rockers merrily, leaving the old woman a heap of
amazement and wrath in the centre of the floor.

The other women all laughed loud and long.
It was not often that the domineering Sim Ssi
62 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

was brought to a place of humiliation, and they
enjoyed it. All but the missionary woman, who
ran to her relief and helped her up and seated
her firmly in the missionary man’s armchair,
murmuring meanwhile words of queer, broken
talk, which Sim Ssi did not understand, but
which she dimly perceived were meant to be
apologetic and soothing.

It was some time before the stir subsided and
Mrs. Missionary was able to begin with the first
words of her carefully prepared sentences.

“You all know about God, of course?” she
said.

“Who doesn’t know about God?” old Sim Ssi
retorted, with strong traces of resentment. “ Do
you take us for animals?”

“You all know about him,” went on the mis-
sionary, “ but do you worship him?”

“Why should we? He’s too far away. The
demons are nearer,” was the answer.

“God loves you and wants you to worship him
alone. He loves you so much that he sent his
dearly beloved Son——”

“What is she talking about? I can’t under-
stand a word she says. It sounds like Korean,
and yet it doesn’t.”

“Korean! How can she be talking Korean?
Don’t you know that she’s an American? It’s
American talk,” said another, scornfully.

“that he sent his dearly beloved Son, his
only Son into the world to——”
AN ABSORPTION OF NEW IDEAS 63

“ How old are you?”

“ Twenty-five. To save us from our sins.
His name is Jesus Christ, and——”

“Twenty-five! And with hair like that? We
thought you were eighty at least.”

“ Are your parents living? ”

At this point the missionary, not being en-
tirely inexperienced, laid the gospel narrative
down and took up another of a different sort.

“T am twenty-five years old,” said she, “ and
my husband is twenty-eight. My parents are
both living. My father is sixty years old and
my mother is fifty-eight. I have three brothers
and two sisters. My hair is not faded from age
but has always been the color that it is now. I
have been married a little over a year and have
one child which I nourish myself.”

“ Girl, I suppose,” interrupted Sim Ssi, adding
in an aside to the other women: “They say
these people don’t have anything but girls.”

“Yes, she is a girl, but we missionaries do
have little sons too. My nearest neighbour has
three sons and only one little girl. Now I want
you to listen while I tell you about Jesus Christ.
He is Lord and Saviour of us all, and there is
no hope of salvation except in him. What he
wants is the worship of our hearts and eo

“ Well, why not?” broke in one of the women
with a conciliatory air. “The more objects of
worship the better. We'll just worship him
along with all the rest.”

 
64 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

At this point one of the women who had been
looking about, discovered baby’s doll propped up
in the corner of the sofa.

“ Here it is!” she cried. ‘“ Here is what they
worship!”

And in a solid body Mrs. Missionary’s audi-
ence deserted her and began to bow low with
clasped hands before her of the blandly smiling
cotton countenance. After that there was no
getting a hearing from them, and presently they
went away, leaving Mrs. Missionary to laugh a
good deal and cry a little, and to take up once
more with renewed energy the study of the
Korean dictionary and grammar.

But instead of going straight home, Sim Ssi
led her flock around to the back of the house and
presented herself at the kitchen door. This was
Yung Kyoo’s domain, and here he held sway.
Yung Kyoo was about eighteen years old. His
hair was parted in the middle and hung in a thick
braid down his back. Vain Yung Kyoo! Close
inspection would have revealed the fact that a
switch of false hair was woven in with his own
natural locks. His eyes were bright and his
tongue was ever ready.

He was at once the admiration and the despair
of Mrs. Missionary. He taught her more Ko-
rean in a day than she was able to extract in
a month from the sleepy old fellow whom she
called her teacher. He applied himself with
tremendous energy to the polishing of her few
AN ABSORPTION OF NEW IDEAS 65

pieces of silver, wedding presents from dear
friends, and with the aid of bath-brick had suc-
ceeded in reducing them to a state which brought
tears to her eyes whenever she looked at them. On
one occasion at least, he had washed out his
white muslin socks and hung them out to dry
after having starched them in the contents of
the mush-boiler. He stood between Mrs. Mis-
sionary and the little crowd of venders of various
wares—chickens, eggs, oysters, fish, etc.—and
succeeded in making purchases at much cheaper
rates than she could have done, notwithstanding
the fact that at every purchase a few cash pieces
stuck to his own palm.

Just now he was sitting in the middle of the
kitchen floor, with a pan of potatoes between his
feet which he was paring for supper.

“Well, what are you after?” said he, rather
inhospitably, as the shadows darkened the door-
way. Sometimes visitors of this sort averaged
thirty or forty a day, and Yung Kyoo had not
yet acquired the patience of age.

Sim Ssi advanced into the room, and crouching
down beside the boy, put her hand on his arm in
a manner which she meant to be confidence-
inspiring.

“ Say, boy,” said she, “tell us what they are
like.”

“Who?” asked Yung Kyoo, shortly.

“You know. These foreign people that you
work for.”
66 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

“ Just like the rest of us.”

“Are they, now? Are they like the rest of
us?”

“Well, no,” admitted Yung Kyoo, slowly;
“they’re not just like the rest of us. I’ve been
with them for several months now, and I’ve
never seen him strike her once, and if she yok-
hows [scolds] him, it’s when they’re by them-
selves. I’ve never heard her. And they always
tell the truth, too—not even little lies.”

Silence reigned for a moment, and then old
Sim Ssi asked: ‘“ What are they here for? To
better themselves some way, of course, but
how?”

“They are here to teach a new doctrine.”

“ A new doctrine! What doctrine have they
got that is any better than the ones we have?”

“T don’t know all about it myself. T’m not
doing it yet, but I’m going to by and by when I
get old. It’s about somebody that they call Jesus.
They say he ‘saves’ them, and they seem to
get a lot of comfort out of it.”

“Well, I’m not after comfort,” said the old
woman, decidedly. “I can get all I want for
myself.”

She straightened up and began looking about
the room. An empty tomato can with a bright
label attracted her attention, and a piece of
broken windowpane.

“Take them along, if you want them,” said
Yung Kyoo.
AN ABSORPTION OF NEW IDEAS 67

“Say, do these people eat like we do?” she
asked after a moment.

“Mugko malgo,” replied Yung Kyoo, which
may be freely translated as “ You bet they do.”

“What do they eat?”

“All sorts of things.”

Here her glance and that of another old
woman fell simultaneously upon a dish of butter.
It was good butter; that is, as good as any butter
can be which has been made months before,
packed in brine, and shipped across the ocean.
But Sim Ssi had never seen or heard of butter,
and knew nothing of putting cow’s milk to any
use except that designed by nature.

“ Do they eat that?” she asked. “ What does
it taste like?”

“Try it and see,” said the wicked Yung Kyoo.
With generous hand he bestowed a liberal por-
tion upon each one, and with touching trustful-
ness the lumps were immediately transferred to
the waiting mouths. An instant later two old
dames rushed frantically out of the kitchen,
and began coughing, spitting, and wiping their
mouths with their hands. It was some moments
before they could free themselves sufficiently
from the sickening morsels to express their minds,
and it was the symposium that followed which
brought Mrs. Missionary to the kitchen.

“ What in the world is this, Yung Kyoo?” said
she.

“T couldn’t help it, pouin” [lady], said Yung
68 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

Kyoo, with a final discharge of billingsgate after
the retreating crowd. “ They said that you ate
stuff that would kill a dog, and that it was no
wonder that your hair was as white as an old
woman’s, and that you had a face like a horse’s,
and a nose like a rice-ladle, if that was what you
lived on; and I had to tell them what I thought
of them. That’s all.”
VI
THE POWER OF MEEKNESS

\ ' 7 HEN Sim Ssi reached home after her

visit to the missionary’s, she took the

label off the tomato can and pasted

it on the wall for an ornament. The can itself

she put on a high shelf to serve as a depository

for fetiches. Then she scraped some of the

paper off her little window and pasted the piece

of glass on instead, becoming thereby the aristo-
crat of the neighbourhood.

It was the thread-making season of the year,
and all the women who were not otherwise en-
gaged were busy making up the supply of thread
for the year’s sewing. Sim Ssi took her spindle,
tipped with its mass of snowy cotton, and went
out into the street to hunt a crony or two with
whom she might gossip. A few moments later
she found herself one of a group of three at a
doorway. As they sat and talked together, draw-
ing out the cotton and rubbing it into long strands
with their fingers, they might well have been
taken for the Korean Fates, except that while
two were old and wrinkled and nearly toothless,
the other was still young and fair.

69
70 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

The latter was Pobai, and she listened with
Jack-lustre eye while old Sim Ssi recounted, with
some reservations, what she had seen and heard
at the foreigners’. Since the sad disaster of her
attempt to get rid of her hated husband, Pobai
had not dared to try any more charms, but her
mind had been none the less busy with plans for
escape. Sometimes for days a demon stood at
her side, whispering, ‘ Poison him, poison him,”
until it seemed to her that the whole firmament
resounded with the words, and as if every one
must know her guilty thoughts. Then other
demons came and whispered, “Set the house
afire and let him burn up.” More than once she
had stood beside him as he lay in a drunken sleep,
with a match in her hand ready to apply it to
the straw mat on which he lay, but some restrain-
ing influence prevailed, and from day to day she
staggered on under the burden of a hateful and
hopeless slavery.

Of late the river had been much in her
thoughts. Her gaze wandered to it now, flowing
along so silently and so resistlessly. Not a soul
would care if she dropped beneath its wave.
Mansiki would be put to the trouble of getting
another housekeeper, and that would be all.
Well, why not? It would be easier than
living——

Old Sim Ssi’s voice broke in on her thoughts.

“They said she was his only wife, but he
treated her as if she were a princess. I never
THE POWER OF MEEKNESS = 11

saw anything like it. And yet the boy in the
kitchen said that everything about the house was
ordered to suit him. I don’t understand it.”

“What are they here for?” asked the other
old woman, presently. ‘‘ Why didn’t they stay in
their own country?”

“They are here to teach a new doctrine,”
answered Sim Ssi. ‘“ The woman tried to tell
us about it, and you ought to have heard her to
know how queer the American language is. I
couldn’t understand any of it hardly, and I don’t
care. I’ve got all the doctrine I want for this
world, and who knows anything about the next?
I guess it’s only meant for people who are in
trouble, anyway. The boy said they seemed to
get lots of comfort out of it.”

“ Comfort out of it!” Oh, how sweetly those
words fell upon Pobai’s listening ear, and what
desperate strength of longing awoke in her to
know more of anything that promised comfort!
She took her spindle and went into the house, and
with beating heart sat down to think it over. It
was not far to the magistracy—only six miles.
She could start after dark and get back after
midnight, and no one would be any the wiser.

That night the road to the magistracy was re-
treating swiftly under Pobai’s flying feet. She
had never been so far away from home before,
and she was afraid, but a stronger emotion than
fear drew her on. Where the little church was,
the meeting-place of the Christians, she did not
72 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

know, but an inquiry or two led her to the right
spot.

As she approached the building, her heart, so
bold up to that moment, suddenly failed her.
Perhaps there was no meeting that evening and
no one would be there. Or what if it were
meant only for men and old women, and they
would not let her in? She lingered irresolutely
outside the gate until she saw other women going
in, and then she crept along in their shadow.
At the door she paused again. One end of the
little ell-shaped building was filled with women
and girls, the other by men and boys, with a
swaying grasscloth curtain hanging between. In
front, only a few steps away, sat the missionary,
with a Korean helper beside him. Pobai had
never seen any one before who looked so queer.
For the first time in her life she looked into eyes
that were not black, but a bright blue. Stranger
than that, his hair was a warm brown colour, and
his skin was red and white. Bushy whiskers
adorned his chin, and instead of huge black gog-
gles encased in ponderous frames of horn and
brass, he wore a ridiculously small pair of spec-
tacles, apparently without any rims at all. His
clothes were made of some sort of ugly, coarse
dark goods, and fitted him so tightly that Pobai’s
first feeling of fear changed to one of pity as
she considered how uncomfortable he must be.

As she looked again, she saw that those strange
features radiated a look of kindness. His glance
THE POWER OF MEEKNESS = 73

fell upon the women and girls huddled before
him, but there was only goodness and purity in
his eye, and she saw that instead of hanging their
heads and crouching behind each other, they ven-
tured to look back at him fearlessly and even with
trustfulness.

Presently the missionary arose and_ said:
“Kedo hapseita.” At the words the whole
audience fell forward on their faces, and in the
long pause that ensued before the missionary be-
gan audible prayer, Pobai thought that they were
worshipping him. She did not understand the
meaning of much that he said, but she felt keenly
the spirit of love and reverence that permeated
it all. Then the audience began to sing, and
Pobai listened to what she afterwards described
as the most beautiful noise she had ever heard.
It was something about the love of Jesus. “Oh,
his love for me, his love for me!” went the re-
frain. Then the missionary began to read some-
thing out of a book. Very strange and wonder-
ful were the words that fell from his lips. “ For
God so loved the world that he gave his only be-
gotten Son that whosoever believeth on him
should not perish, but should have eternal life.”
And then, “ Come unto me all ye that labour and
are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.”

“That means me,” thought Pobai, and she
slipped inside the door and sat for an hour and a
half listening spellbound to the wonderful things
that were said.
14 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

It was late and a moonless night when she
started home, yet somehow the darkness seemed
luminous about her, and the long miles melted
away before her. She was alone, yet not alone,
for One walked beside her, a tender and gracious
Presence who took her hand and drew her poor
head very gently to his breast, One whose touch
could not hurt or defile her, but brought only
purity and blessing. Pobai did not understand it
and could not have put it into any words, but she
knew that it was all ineffably sweet and marvel-
lous. Warmth and love and light encircled her,
and hope and courage sprang up in her heart.

Reaching home, she slipped in unnoticed, and
lay down in her usual place on the floor. Hour
after hour she lay with happy, wide-open eyes.
Over and over in her ears rang the sweet refrain
which she had heard at the church: ‘Oh, his
love for me, his love for me!” Soft tears be-
dewed the straw mat on which she lay—tears of
peace and joy. At last Pobai had found a
Friend.

Every Sabbath and Wednesday night for sev-
eral weeks Pobai went on the same pilgrimage
to the little church at the magistracy. She came
into possession of a New Testament and a hymn-
book, and from looking with envious eyes upon
the women and girls who could read, she began
here and there, from this one and that one, to
acquire a knowledge of the character for her-
self. Before she could have believed it possible,
THE POWER OF MEEKNESS = 75

she was able to pick her way up and down the
lines and get out the thought for herself, and that
was wonderful too.

One night, as she sped away homeward from
the church, she became aware that she was being
followed. From house to house, and bush to
bush, as she went along, a dark shadow pursued
her, and just as she was reaching home a man
sprang out from the roadside, and catching her
by the arms, dragged her toward the light.

It was Mansiki, her husband. “ Now we'll
find out what all this means,” he said.

There was no concealing the precious Testa-
ment and hymnbook. He seized them and held
them up toward the light, then tore them to
pieces, leaf by leaf.

“ Oho, so this is it, is it?” he said. ‘“ You’ve
been going down to the magistracy to do the
Jesus doctrine, have you? You want me to be
cursed, do you, and all my house, down to the
furthest generation? Here, wait a minute, and
Tl do a little doctrine myself and see if that
won't cure you.”

Once more, as he had done before, he threw
her to the ground and bound her with rope—only
he needed no help this time, because she made no
resistance but lay quite still before him.

“ Now tell me,” he said, standing over her with
a heavy stick, “will you give this thing up or
not?”

There was no answer for a moment, and if he
16 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

had stooped down he might have seen a look of
great peace on her face. Then the words came
bravely, even with a little thrill of joy, from her
lips:

“You may beat me to death if you will, or
saw me asunder, but I cannot give up my Lord.”

The blows fell then, heavy and merciless. She
did not feel much pain, but instead her spirit was
possessed by a sense of high privilege in sharing
Christ’s sufferings. It was very sweet to suffer
a little for him who had borne so much for her.

How far Mansiki’s blind rage might have
carried him, I do not know, but at this juncture
the man who lived next door, aroused by the
sound of blows, came and looked over the low
wall of mud which constituted the division fence.

“ Here,” he said, “who'll get your breakfast
to-morrow if you keep on like that? Lay that
club down and finish up with this.” He tossed
him a stout switch as he spoke, and Mansiki
wielded it until there was nothing left of it but
the stump in his hand.

“ How about it now,” he asked, “ how about
this Jesus-believing business now?”

She did not answer at once, and for a moment
he thought he had killed her. “ Wake up,” he
said, giving her a push with his foot, “and tell
me if you’ve had enough.”

Her eyes were closed but her lips moved, and
he heard her say: “Oh, the love of Jesus, the
love of Jesus!”
THE POWER OF MEEKNESS 77

The man started back, looking as if his strength
had left him.

“'What’s the matter with you, girl,” he said
hoarsely, “do you want to die?”

“ Not unless it is His will,’ she answered.

She did not speak again, or move, or make any
effort to get away. He stood over her for a few
moments in silence, then stooped and cut the
straw rope that bound her and watched her as she
rose staggeringly to her feet.

He watched her as she crept into the house,
and for days and weeks he watched her, wonder-
ing. He did not beat her again, but nothing that
a mean ingenuity could devise to tempt and try
her was left undone. There were no more night
trips to the magistracy to gather strength and
courage with which to face the hard conditions of
her lot. The portions of Scripture which she
secured and tried to keep, he sought out and tore
to pieces or tossed into the fire. Sometimes he
slipped quietly into the house and surprised her
at prayer, and then it was his delight to give her
a kick, or bump her forehead against the floor.
Nevertheless Pobai had peace, and she found a
great joy in praying for him who was using her
so despitefully Some way the old hate and loath-
ing that had seemed to consume her whole being
was gone, and she longed more than anything
else that he too might have Jesus for his friend.

One portion of the Scripture, the gospel of
Mark, she got possession of, and managed to
78 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

keep by changing its hiding-place every day.
Sometimes it lay for a day or two under the
ironing-stone, then journeyed to the corner of the
kitchen behind the big water-jar, such as Ali
Baba and the forty thieves, one or two at a time,
at least, might have hidden in; or it lay tucked
under one or another of the row of inverted brass
bowls on the kitchen shelf, or under the edge of
the mat on the floor. Once it disappeared for a
week, and Pobai mourned it as having gone the
way of its predecessors, until she discovered it
in the bottom of her sewing basket, where she
was sure she had not placed it. It was freshly
thumb-marked, as if some one might have been
using it.

As time went by, and Mansiki watched and
wondered, he grew restless. This quiet little
woman, who waited on him so patiently, had
come into the possession of something that he did
not understand. It brought peace to her heart
and a light to her eye that no sort of persecution
seemed able to efface. He noticed that she took
no interest any more in the propitiation of evil
spirits, and seemed quite indifferent as to whether
they were pleased or otherwise. Good and bad
“signs” alike passed unheeded, and she kept on
the even tenor of her way just as if all the spaces
of the universe were not peopled with myriads of
spiteful demons. Neither was she afraid of
death any more, but went unhesitatingly into
sick-rooms, and sat by death-beds, and helped
THE POWER OF MEEKNESS 179

prepare bodies for burial, apparently without any
dread. It was uncanny, and in spite of himself a
sort of awe began to pervade his thoughts of her.

One day, after a late night at the wineshop, he
lay sprawled out on the floor, apparently asleep.
Pobai sat at the other end ofthe room with her
work-basket, holding her sewing close to the little
paper window. Presently she began humming a
line of a hymn, “ Yeisoo-eui ’pi patkeui umnei ”
[Nothing but the blood of Jesus].

“What’s that noise you’re making?” he asked
suddenly.

She was afraid to tell him that it was a Chris-
tian hymn; so said nothing for a moment, and
then asked: “Do you mind my doing it?”

“No, I don’t mind,” he said, adding in a
shamefaced manner that sat on him with new and
becoming grace, “I rather like it.” So after
that Pobai sang at her work, although not too
loud or too constantly, for fear after all that it
might displease him.

As Mansiki thought the matter over he came
to the conclusion that he had no particular ob-
jection to anybody getting anything that could
be of any advantage to them, either for this
world or the next, but he resented the idea of
obtaining it through the medium of foreigners.

“Upstart barbarians, every one of them,” he
said to himself, grinding his teeth. “They only
come here to steal our land and put foolish
notions into the heads of our women. What doc-
80 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

trines have they that are any better than those
we have? Our Confucius, has there ever been
a sage like him?”

Ah, Confucius! The name suggested a train
of thought, the train of thought led to an idea,
and the idea ripened into a purpose. He would
give up his rowdy life, for a time at least, and
apply himself diligently to the worship of Con-
fucius, and see what came of it in the way of
peace of mind for the present and assurance for
the future. There were grave difficulties in the
way, for although there was a Confucian temple
at the magistracy, as there is in every district
in Korea, and although it was open on every
sacrificial day throughout the year, yet only
scholars and gentlemen were allowed to worship
there, and Mansiki could not lay much claim to
being either one or the other. He had some in-
fluential friends, however, and the plentiful
harvests had brought him money, which even in
Korea has been known to work wonders in the
instantaneous transformation of coolies into gen-
tlemen and scholars. Gathering together all his
available cash to the amount of more than a
thousand yang [fifty dollars], he betook himself
to the magistracy to set in motion whatever
forces would be most likely to result in his eleva-
tion to the coveted rank.

The process was one which took time and
money, and a good deal of both. At the end of
a month his money was all gone, but the prospect
THE POWER OF MEEKNESS _ 81

for success seemed bright. It was then that
those in authority asked to see his “chokpo”
[genealogical tree]. Mansiki had been fearing
this. In vain he temporized, prevaricated, and
deferred. In the end he had to produce it, and
then he became the object of derisive laughter,
for beyond six generations of ancestors he had
nothing to show. Even now a further gen-
erous greasing of the official palm might have
accomplished his purpose, but the supply of
lubricating material was exhausted, and Mansiki,
in a fit of reckless wrath, forsook altogether the
calm composure which ought always to char-
acterize a Confucianist, real or pretended, and
proceeded to apply a liberal dose of verbal
vinegar, which was never yet known to facilitate
frictionless motion. In the mélée which ensued
he found himself finally on the outside of the
big gate leading to the official headquarters, his
white kid shoes, which had been projected
through the air after him, sunk deep in the mud,
and his hat of starched horsehair, gauze, and
bamboo, a shapless mass about his ears.

His surface veneer had been scratched and the
real Mansiki brought to light. It was very
humiliating, even for a would-be Confucianist,
and he formed a hasty resolution to get gloriously
drunk and then go back to the village of Royal
Helpfulness and stay there for the remainder of
his life.

In pursuance of this resolution he fished his
82 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

shoes out of the mud, made some effort to
restore his headgear to its pristine state, and was
starting across the street when the sound of
voices attracted his attention. Following the
sound he found himself in a little courtyard and
in the presence of one of the hated foreigners.
He was accompanied by a Korean, and they
seemed to be taking turns in addressing the little
crowd that had gathered. It was the old, old
story of divine love for a lost world, to which
Mansiki listened, but he heard with dull ears, and
when the speaker was through he jostled rudely
against him and asked: “ Where are you from
and what are you here for?”

“T came from the Western seas,” the man
answered, quietly, “ and my business is to tell of
the true God and of his Son Jesus Christ, the
Saviour of the world.”

“God!” echoed Mansiki, scornfully, drawing
himself up with all the pride and boastfulness
that his battered hat and disreputable shoes ad-
mittted of. “ This is god enough for me,” and
he patted his stomach complacently.

“It’s poor dependence for eternity,” the man
answered, quietly.

“That’s so,” the laugh went round among the
crowd, and Mansiki felt himself worsted.

“ What’s the good of your doctrine?” he asked
again more politely. ‘“ What profit is there in it
for us?”

“Much, every way,” answered the man in the

”
THE POWER OF MEEKNESS = 83

words of Paul, and in short, carefully selected
sentences he began a résumé of gospel truth.
Mansiki listened with puzzled brow, and at the
first pause he turned to the Korean helper, who
stood near, and said: “What is he saying?
It seems to me very strange talk. I can’t under-
stand it at all.”

“Let us talk it over,” replied the man, and
drawing him aside, they sat down together on the
edge of the little porch. It was getting dark
when they arose. The crowd had scattered and
the missionary had disappeared. It was too late
now to start home, and Mansiki went to an inn,
where he sat all night with his head bowed low
between his knees. All night he sat, almost with-
out stirring, and till after noon of the next day.
Then he started home.

When he left home a month before, he had
said nothing to Pobai about his intentions or the
probable length of his stay. Every day she had
awaited his coming, and every day her heart had
gone out in prayer for him. It was evening.
Pobai’s head was bowed to the floor in prayer.
Oh, that the man who was her master might come
to know the Saviour and own his gentle sway!
She wept tears of longing as she prayed, and
something of the eternal mother-yearning stirred
in her heart. Suddenly his familiar step was
heard at the door, and before she could move he
was in the room. She lay very still with her
face to the floor, expecting the usual kick or
84 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

thump, but none came. There was a long
silence, and then a touch on the shoulder, a
touch that had in it what in all her life Pobai
had never felt before, a something of hesitation,
even of deference. It held and thrilled her like
deep music. She was trembling from head to
foot.

“ Pobai,” he said at last, in a voice that she
did not recognise, ‘I have found your Saviour,
and he has shown me what a brute I have been.
I’ve been worse than any beast to you, Pobai.”

There was another long pause, but for her life
she could not move or utter a word. He went
on slowly:

“Tf you want to go, Pll divide what there is
left of the property with you, and set you up
anywhere you like in a comfortable home; or,
if you’re willing to stay———”_ He stopped again,
and then went on brokenly: “If you’re willing
to stay, I'll promise you this, that [ll never lay
hand on you again except in love.”

Tt was all the work of a moment, but in that
moment was wrought a miracle. All the deep
scars of her unloved and unloving life melted
into effacement; the very recollection of them
slipped away from her, and out of the broken
and deeply furrowed soil of her heart there
sprang into being a sweet flower, the sweetest of
all things left to fallen men—the power to love
and to be loved.

When at last she looked up, she saw that he
THE POWER OF MEEKNESS — 85

had removed to a distance and was standing with
bowed head, as he might have done before an
aged parent or any one for whom he felt deep
reverence. She turned, kneeling as she was, and
started to creep toward him on her knees. He
sprang forward and lifted her to her feet, and
they stood a moment, looking full into each
other’s eyes. Then he took her into his arms,
very slowly, very gently, as if mutely asking per-
mission, and they sank together to their knees,
and broken words of love and prayer, soft with
tears, fell from their lips.

And so out of the wreck and wastage of their
former lives these two people began together to
build the fair edifice of a happy home, that rich
ornament which seldom precedes a Christian
civilisation, but follows it everywhere in its
march throughout the world.
Vil
THE BREAK WITH SIN

OW Pobai sang at her work as free
N as the birds. Early in the morning

as she moved about the dark little
kitchen, her clear notes rang out until Mansiki,
listening, smiled happily, and said to himself:
“Our little wife is like the skylark. From
morning to morning she rises up to heaven on
wings of song.” And after that when they were
alone together he called her his “ Chongtari,” his
skylark.

The long trips to the magistracy were not made
alone now, but Mansiki and his wife went
together, and spent the day at the church and
among the believing brethren, drinking in divine
truth with a thirst which seemed unquenchable.

But it was not enough to be happy themselves.
They longed very much that others might be
brought within reach of the great salvation which
they had found. From day to day, as opportunity
offered, they spread the good news. Some
scoffed, some laughed and said: “ You are out
of your wits”; but some listened with a
trembling hope that it might be true, and God,

86
THE BREAK WITH SIN 87

whose tender mercies fail not, did not quench
these poor bits of smoking flax, but fostered the
precious flame until it sprang into full life and
being.

Before long a little band began to meet together
every evening at Mansiki’s house to learn more
of the new doctrine. Mansiki would take the
passage of Scripture which he had heard ex-
pounded at church, and repeat it as best he could
to his hearers. Then they would sing renderings
in the Korean language of grand old hymns
that have been the comfort of the saints in all
ages, such as, “ Jesus, Lover of My Soul,” “ Rock
of Ages,” “ Alas, and Did My Saviour Bleed,”
or something of newer words and melody, as
“ Sweet By and By,” or “ More Love, Oh, Christ,
to Thee.’ Not one was able to imitate the
Western tune, but they sang the words to a
strange, quavering, minor melody, better adapted,
apparently, to express heathen hopelessness than
Christian joy. Yet being the best they could do,
doubtless our God heard it with rejoicing. Then
prayer would follow, and fervid longing after
heavenly things welled up in heart after heart,
and found expression in a flow of passionate
eloquence.

Evening by evening the attendance on these
gatherings increased until the room was crowded,
and even the dark little kitchen was full. But in
the midst of Pobai’s joy at the ready acceptance
of the gospel by her friends and neighbours, there
88 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

was a sense of lack. Her thoughts turned long-
ingly to her childhood’s home, to her father and
brothers and to Grandfather Kim, who was still
alive, though feeble and old. She talked the
matter over with Mansiki, and one day they put
together a little bundle of tracts, portions of
Scripture and a few hymnbooks and set off for
the distant hamlet where Pobai had been born,
and which she had not revisited since the day she
had left it, a little girl-bride years before. They
were back in about a week, having disposed of
most of the literature and having received from
Pobai’s relatives the assurance that they would
“think it over.”

They also brought with them old Grandfather
Kim, and from that time forth the oldman made
his home with them, and his tottering steps were
turned heavenward. He had grown quite deaf
and did not understand all of the truth, or even
very much of it; but one thing he knew, and
that was that Jesus had died for him, and what-
ever the rest of it was, he felt sure that it was
good. When he first came he sat in the sun,
and droned over and over as he had done for so
long his

**Ooltook, dooltook, chu nam san pogei !

Na do choogimyun chu moyang toigennei.”
[Humps and hollows, just look at that hillside!
I'll be like that too, when once I have died.]

But Pobai soon substituted a different refrain,

and whenever he began “ Ooltook, dooltook,” her
THE BREAK WITH SIN 89

hand was on his shoulder and her voice in his
ear. “Oh, no, grandfather, not ‘ ooltook, dool-
took,’ but ‘dara, dara.’ This way, you know:
‘Dara, dara, Yeisoo dara kanei!’” [Follow, fol-
low, I will follow Jesus.] And by and by he
ceased altogether to revert to “ Ooltook, dool-
took.”

Among the villagers who still held out against
the gospel were Ko Pansoo and old Sim Ssi.
Indeed, as far as Ko Pansoo was concerned, there
were some things much more pressing which
claimed his attention. The gospel could wait,
but not so his creditors. Certain gambling ven-
tures on borrowed capital which he had had on
hand for some time had turned out disastrously,
and he was being hounded on all sides by men
who wanted their money. In Satan was his only
hope, and he repaired once more to the cave in
the mountains.

At the end of seven days of semi-starvation
and sleeplessness he emerged to try his power,
only to find that he had none. Another seven
days, and again disappointment, and again and
again until thirty-five days had been numbered,
and still no power. Old Sim Ssi had held out
sixty-three days and nights before the coveted
boon was granted, but Ko Pansoo was already in
a miserable state. He was only able to keep
awake at all by propping up his eyelids with
sharp sticks, and his orisons had subsided to an
incoherent mumble, hardly above his breath. At
90 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

intervals when his last ounce of strength seemed
on the eve of departing, he fortified himself with
doses of the powdered root of wolfsbane, mixed
with equal parts of powdered iron, copper, and
lead.

Another seven days dragged their slow length
along, and he was more dead than alive, yet still
no visitation, no sense of power. After all his
years of faithful service Satan had failed him.
Perhaps he was trying to kill him. Ko Pansoo
felt that, if so, another seven days would
accomplish the satanic purpose. He dragged
himself to where the little pile of dry sticks lay
and prepared a full meal of boiled millet, which
he ate to the last drop, then stretched himself on
the ground and slept he knew not how long, after
which he made his way home. How to meet his
creditors he did not know. The prospect of
prison, chains, beatings, nakedness, cold and
hunger loomed up before him, and no way of
escape presented itself.

It was dark when he came to the main street
of the village, and the little crowd of nightly
worshippers was assembling at Pang Mansiki’s
house. Ko Pansoo loitered about until all had
entered and the service begun, and then he drew
near and peered in at the door, seeing but un-
seen. It was all strange and unintelligible, and
nothing so much so as the changed faces and
bearing that he saw among the worshippers. He
had known them ever since he came to the village,
THE BREAK WITH SIN 91

known them in all their sin and hardness of
heart, and yet as he looked from one to another,
he realised that all had become strangers to him.
All had found a confidence, a peace, a joy that
he knew nothing of, and the old hatefulness and
hardness were gone.

A great horror of hopelessness came over him.
Peace, comfort, assurance for every one but Ko
Pansoo! He turned away, and slowly, slowly
took up his homeward way. When he reached
home his purpose was formed. He did not enter
the house, but went into the cowshed and groped
about until he found a rope of horsehair, which
he fastened around a beam and adjusted around
his neck. The future in the next world could
hardly be any blacker than the one that stared
him in the face here, and it would only be the
work of a moment——

At this instant steps were heard in the yard,
and then the sound of a low voice. Looking
through a crack in the rude wall, he saw that it
was Kesiki. She had brought a pan of clear
water and placed it so that the rays from the
seven stars that form the constellation of the
Great Bear might fall upon it, and over this she
was bowing low and repeating over and over in
heartbroken tones: “ Hananimiyu, Hananimiyu
[Oh, Heavenly One, Heavenly One], help me to
‘trust in the Lord Jesus Christ!”

Ko Pansoo stood for a moment like one
petrified, then with a loud cry he cast the
92 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

rope aside and rushed out to where his wife
stood.

“Oh, Kesiki,” he said, “that is what I want,
too. Let us do it together!”

The woman’s face was drawn with hard pain.
“But suppose we never have any boys, after
all?’’ she said.

“T hope we will,” answered Ko Pansoo, as
he helped his wife into the house, “ but,” he
added, manfully, “ boy or girl, we'll call the next
one Pangabi [Glad].”

The next few days always remained inscribed
on Ko Pansoo’s memory as a period of tremen-
dous mental agility. He was conscious of
executing a series of mental somersaults which
left him in a_ strangely inverted and
hitherto unnatural position. His old master,
whom he had always feared and_ served,
he now hated with all the strength of
his nature, but the new Master—how to seek
him, where to find him? He sat like one con-
founded amid the wreck of his past ideals and
beliefs, reaching out groping hands after God,
if haply he might find him. And that Gracious
One, who is never very far from any one of us,
reached out a strong hand from out of the dark-
ness and drew him on toward himself.

One thing became plain, and that was that he
must break altogether with his past life. Nothing
to his understanding typified so entirely all those
years of sin and deceit as the big drum which had
THE BREAK WITH SIN 93

been his companion and fellow-sinner, and he fell
upon it in a sort of rage. He burst in the two
heads of rawhide with a couple of savage kicks,
and attacked the oaken ribs with an ax, leaving
them in fragments. Now his bridges were
burned and there was no turning back. His
means of livelihood were gone, and what next?

It was thus that Pang Mansiki found him.
He gathered up the broken pieces of the drum,
and took Ko Pansoo by the hand and led him to
his own house. There, until the hour for
evening service, they prayed and wept together.
Mansiki expounded the Scriptures as best he
could, and the eyes of Ko Pansoo’s spiritual
understanding were enlightened. When the
crowd gathered in the evening, he was the first
to rise, and stood before them all, not the blind
worshipper of devils whom they thought they
knew, but a humble child of God, stripped of all
fraud and deceit, and crying to them and to God
for forgiveness.

When he had finished, Pang Mansiki arose,
produced the broken pieces of drum and told the
rest of the story. The hearts of all were melted
within them. One old woman arose, and
stripping off her long white silk outer garment,
tossed it across the flimsy partition to where Ko
Pansoo sat, bowed to the ground, crying out as
she did so: “He shall not suffer lack for this
if I can help it!” Others, men and women,
followed with finger rings, ornaments of silver
94 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

and jade, and crownmg all, a long switch of false
hair, always equivalent to ready money in Korea,
came flying across the partition, and, lighting
upon the shoulders of Ko Pansoo, completed the
picture of spontaneous though dishevelled gener-
osity.

Nothing like this had ever come within the
range of Ko Pansoo’s experience. “ Dear
friends and neighbours,” he said when he could
speak at all, “if you had kicked me out of the
house, I could have understood it, and could have
had nothing to complain of, but this—this breaks
my heart,’ and he added, sobbing: “I didn’t
know that there was such love in the world.”

And Mansiki answered for all the rest when
he said: “ Neither did we till we knew God, for
God is love.”
VIII
MODERN EXORCISM

OT many days thereafter, early one
N morning, old Sim Ssi passed by Ko
Pansoo’s house with a human skull in
her hand. The night before she had carried it
out to the mountainside and left it on a flat stone
to gather dew. She meant to repeat this every
night until sufficient moisture had gathered to
make a dose of medicine, which she would sell at
a high price as a cure for malaria.

Ko Pansoo was out in the yard as she went by,
and for the first time in her acquaintance with
him she saw something more of his eyes than the
whites, but she betrayed no surprise.

“ Hello, young man,” said she with her usual
insolence; “quit shamming, have you? Found
something else that pays better?”

“Yes, I have,” answered Ko Pansoo, boldly,
“and if it’s good for me, it’ll be good for you.
T advise you to try it.”

“ What is it?” she asked, drawing near. “If
it’s something good, put me on to it. I always
was your friend.”

Ko Pansoo waived the last remark and

95
96 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

answered without hesitation: “It’s the Jesus
doctrine.”

The old woman stared at him in amazement
for a moment, and then answered shortly: “ You
stayed out in the cave too long. What wits you
had have left you. The Jesus doctrine!” she
went on with sudden vehemence; “ the Jesus doc-
trine will leave nothing of your trade or mine if
it keeps on. I'd be starving if my present
practice was all I had to depend on. But
it'll not last. It'll pass over. They are all
fools, every one of them, and you like the rest.
Why, I could go over to Pang Mansiki’s house
to-night, and all I would have to do would be to
beckon, and they would every one of them flock
to me.”

“Try it,” advised Ko Pansoo; “try it and
see.” He had never been able to face old Sim
Ssi before, but to-day he felt no fear of her.

She went off peeping and muttering, and that
evening when she went by again with the skull,
and the next morning when she came again with
it, the conversation was renewed, Sim Ssi taunt-
ing and reproaching, Ko Pansoo bravely defend-
ing the faith that was in him.

The whole situation was one that Sim Ssi
bitterly resented. For years she had ruled the
community like a despot, and the habit of abso-
lute power was strong upon her. One night she
determined to make a proof of her boasting, and
re-establish her old supremacy by a master
MODERN EXORCISM 97

stroke. Arraying herself in all the paraphernalia
which had always been so awe-inspiring to her
subjects, and taking in her hand the fan and the
little brass disc through which she communicated
with the powers of darkness, she made her way
to Pang Mansiki’s house. It was somewhat late
and the house was full, but Sim Ssi pushed boldly
in and took a prominent place among the wor-
shippers. She counted on her mere presence
subduing the elements which had ventured to
oppose themselves, and when the strategic
moment came, she meant to strike a crushing
blow. t

Ko Pansoo had never heard of General Grant,
but he rightly divined that there are times when
the strategic moment is likely to be the first one
that presents itself, and also that an attitude of
attack is always to be preferred to that of de-
fence. With an inward cry to God to show him-
self strong, he sprang to his feet and began to
pray for Sim Ssi. Without fear or faltering, he
held her up before the Almighty in all her
wickedness, and Sim Ssi saw herself as others
saw her and as she was in the eyes of a pure and
righteous God. On and on he went, recounting
the hideous details of her past life as they all
knew them, and concluding with a mighty
appeal to God to have mercy upon her lost
soul.

As he prayed, the audience cast themselves
forward upon their faces, and sighs and groans
98 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

of intercession filled the air. Old Sim Ssi alone
remained erect, as if turned to stone. Suddenly,
as if impelled by a force beyond her power to
resist, she sprang to her feet, tore off her sorcer-
ess’ garments, cast away her fan and disc, and
rushing headlong over the prostrate worshippers,
she fled from the house. All the way home she
ran, and threw herself on the floor of her little
room. ‘Terrible visions of her past sins rose be-
fore her—sins that she had repudiated, palliated,
and denied; sins that she had gloried in and
boasted of; sins of which no one knew, or could
know; murders, adulteries, unspeakable un-
cleannesses, deceits, frauds, lying cheats of every
kind—a dreadful horde that crowded around her
and laid hands on her to drag her down to hell.
God’s face she saw, a face of offended majesty
and wrath, and between her and any hope of
‘pardon was that awful mountain of sin.

For days she agonised. One after another,
and in little parties, pitying brothers and sisters
in Christ came and offered loving balm to her
crushed soul, but there seemed to be no healing
for her hurt. They spoke of forgiveness and
peace, but to Sim Ssi’s mind the words recoiled
from such deep guilt as hers.

Relief came at last when Kesiki appeared at
the door one day with little Pangabi tied to her
back and a happy smile on her face. She handed
Sim Ssi a folded sheet of paper, and spreading
it out on the floor before her, the old woman read
MODERN EXORCISM 99

in large, beautiful characters, the best that Ko
Pansoo could do, the three words: ‘ Remember
Jesus Christ.”

As she gazed at the words another vision was
granted her. Over. against that great mountain
of sin she saw the crucified Saviour, so pure, so
lovely, so full of melting compassion, and his
dear face was turned toward her, and she found
herself able to lift her eyes to him. And the
mountain of sin shrank away out of sight, and
the way of approach to God was made clear.
Then the floodgates of tears were opened—no
longer tears of horror and despair, but sweet
tears of penitence, grief, gratitude, peace, love,
and joy. She wept while day passed on and
darkness gathered. It was some time in the
night, she hardly knew when, that a Presence
came to her, all white and glistening, awesome
yet tender, and seemed to say: “ Weep no more,
my child. The rest of life is yours to spend in
loving service for me.”

Thus it was that once more in Christian annals
a great sinner found a great repentance and a
great Saviour, and old Sim Ssi became, like
Paul, a main prop to the faith which once she
would have gladly destroyed.

Half-way measures were not possible to one
of her nature, and having parted company with
Satan, Sim Ssi’s first act was to repudiate him
wholly and entirely. From every nook and
corner of her house and yard she brought out a
100 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

host of wretched fetiches, some of recent date,
many that had been festering in their places for
years. Among the lot were old wornout straw
shoes, pieces of rag rotten with filth, scraps of
paper written over with prayers and incantations,
human bones, images made of straw, pieces of
gourds and broken dishes, and spirit-garments of
silk and gauze, made and stuck away in dark
‘corners in the hope that the spirits would find
them and be pleased.

To this heap of rubbish piled up in the door-
yard, she added all the instruments of her craft,
her witch-garments, fan, and disc, gathered up
from Mansiki’s yard, whither they had drifted
after she had discarded them on that memorable
evening; the dried carcass of a dog, denuded of
hair, which had passed with the credulous as the
body of a child; bundles of pills, powders, and
pastes made up of unspeakable ingredients, for
the supposed cure of all human ills, and last of
all, the human skull with its accumulation of
dew, which had consisted, now that the truth is
out, almost altogether of river water, added from
time to time as the demand required.

When this extraordinary house-cleaning was
completed and everything that pertained even re-
motely to demon-worship or fraud of any kind
had been dragged to light, Sim Ssi applied a
match to the heap, and as the smoke rolled
heavenward, she opened her hymnbook and be-
gan singing in tones of triumph:
 

 

THE REGENERATED Sim SsIi
MODERN EXORCISM 101

‘‘O happy day, that fixed my choice
On thee, my Saviour and my God !"

Word of what was going on spread through
the village “param pyuneuro” [by way of the
wind], as the Koreans say, and the Christians
came running from all sides. All had discarded
their fetiches on accepting Christ, but none had
had the hardihood as yet to destroy them
altogether. But now when they saw the
smoke and flame from Sim Ssi’s sacrificial
altar, if such it may be called, and heard
the old woman’s ringing notes of exulta-
tion, they hesitated no longer, but gathered
up the poor heaps of trash from where
they had been thrown, and added them to the
flames, Then they all joined in with “ Happy
Day,” “ Rejoice and Be Glad,” “ Jesus Saves”
and other hymns of Christian courage and faith,
and sang on as long as there was anything left
of what had once been objects of awe and vener-
ation.

Once more a leader, but for good now instead
of evil, Sim Ssi laboured incessantly. Every-
where through the hills and valleys she went,
taking with her portions of Scripture and hymn-
books, and telling everywhere the story of salva-
tion. She had been widely known as a priestess
of evil, and now her fame spread as a fearless
follower of the Lord Jesus Christ. As she
laboured she prayed. Great was her longing after
the things of God, and very close was the fellow-
102 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

ship which she had with Him. Sometimes as
she sat alone of evenings in her little room, sing-
ing straight through the hymnbook, or alter-
nately reading and meditating on the Word and
pouring out her soul in prayer, she became aware
once more of that gracious Presence with her.
A something sweet and refreshing stirred in the
atmosphere, and although the doors and windows
were all closed, the leaves of the Testament
would flutter as if moved by a gentle breeze.
Then she would murmur: “Kamsa, kamsa-
hamnita” [I thank thee, oh, I thank thee], and
betake herself to rest, her thirst quenched, her
longing soul satisfied.

No disturbing view of the Scriptures as a mere
collection of history, poetry, and other literature
of a more or less elevating character, ever in-
vaded Sim Ssi’s peaceful breast. To her it was
the word of God. Demons and their ways she
was familiar with, and the subject of demoniacal
possession was not one with her for doubtful
disputation. Every Korean is personally ac-
quainted with such unfortunates, and when Sim
Ssi read in the Gospels that Christ cast out
demons and bestowed like power upon his dis-
ciples, she accepted the commission and exercised
it with unquestioning faith.

One day word came to her that she was needed
at Pang Mansiki’s house. Going over, she found
there a most miserable object, a young woman
of twenty-three or twenty-four, bruised and
MODERN EXORCISM 103

bleeding from head to foot, and hardly able to
stand. It was Toulchai Umuni [the Mother of
Secondly], a member of a heathen family living
not far away, who had become possessed of a
demon, and had been dreadfully beaten day after
day by her relatives in the hope of expelling the
unwelcome intruder. The sound of her cries
had become unbearable to Mansiki and his wife,
and they had approached her friends with the
proposition that they take her to their home and
give her the opportunity of treatment from Sim
Ssi. The family would have been glad to get
rid of her altogether, and readily gave their
consent. So here she was and here was Sim
Ssi.

The poor creature crouched in the corner of
the room, carrying on a muffled conversation
with her familiar.

“Oh, no, no, no!” she was saying.

“Yes, but you must.”

“Oh, but how can I?”

“This way. I'll show you.” Then followed
whispering and chuckling.

“ That’s right. Good! He, he, he!”

On and on went the talk with hardly a
moment’s cessation, the woman sometimes agree-
ing, sometimes begging and whimpering, but
always yielding in the end to the superior will
of the other.

Sim Ssi sat down on the floor directly in front
of her and surveyed her calmly for several
104 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

moments. Then she said: “ Are you possessed
of a demon?”

The question was repeated several times, each
time in a louder tone, before the woman seemed
to hear. Then she answered:

“Yes, Tam. Oh, have mercy on me! Don’t
kill me!”

“Tm not going to hurt you,” said Sim Ssi;
“Tm going to help you get rid of this demon.”

“Oh, let me be, let me be!” came from the
woman’s lips. “I want to stay. I will stay.
Let me alone!”

“Tl give you so long and no longer,” replied
Sim Ssi, with perfect assurance. “ When I say
the word you will have to get out.”

Motioning to Mansiki and Pobai to follow her
example, Sim Ssi knelt, face downward to the
floor, and the two others followed her in long and
earnest prayers. Every time they mentioned
the name of Christ, the woman hissed and spat,
and struck at them with hands and feet.

The prayers concluded, Sim Ssi took up her
hymnbook and began singing:

‘‘T am so glad that our Father in heaven
Tells of his love in the book he has given "—

a hymn which she found to have peculiar ex-
pulsive power with regard to demons. Over and
over they sang this song, until the manifestations
of hatred and spite on the woman’s part had sub-
sided into a low, monotonous crying.
MODERN EXORCISM 105

“Now,” said Sim Ssi, “I’m going to adjure
you in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ to come
out of her and let her alone.”

“Oh, not so soon,” came from the woman’s
lips, “longer, longer! Till morning cockcrow,
anyway!”

“Not a minute past midnight,” said Sim Ssi
firmly.

By this time it was evening, and the usual com-
pany of worshippers had assembled. The poor
demoniac was placed in the midst of them, and
under Sim Ssi’s leadership, the attention of all
was concentrated upon her and their prayers
went up in her behalf. During the early hours
of the evening she was perfectly quiet beyond
an occasional snarl or whimper, but as midnight
approached she grew very restless, turning con-
stantly from side to side in a way that suggested
the motions of a wild animal in a cage. When
midnight came old Sim Ssi rose and made a
gesture of command. The praying ceased and
dead silence reigned. Then Sim Ssi called out
in a loud voice: “Thou foul spirit, I adjure
thee in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, come out
of her!”

At the words the woman was thrown back-
wards on the floor, where she lay screaming and
writhing for a moment, and then all sound and
motion ceased. She was like one dead, and the
rest of the company were frightened, but Sim Ssi,
always self-possessed and dauntless, called for
106 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

water and sprinkled her face and chest. Pres-
ently life came back to her, and she sat up, very
weak, but quiet and sane. The demon had taken
his departure, never to return, for from that
hour Toulchai Umuni and all her family joined
themselves to the little company of believers, and
walked thereafter among the redeemed.
IX
A CHANGED WORLD

S the word of the gospel spread among the
A villagers, and the good seed of the king-
dom took deep root and sprang up in
many hearts, the attendance on the evening meet-
ings increased to such an extent that it became
necessary to divide the congregation. The men
continued to meet at Mansiki’s, while the women
and girls transferred their attendance to the
house of Ko Pansoo. Here Ko and Sim Ssi held
forth together in a sort of mutual leadership—
the old partnership resumed, but on what a dif-
ferent basis!

Still the attendance increased, and before many
months every foot of floor pace at both places
was so closely occupied that no worshipper could
be sure, on rising to his feet, that he would be
able to resume his seat again during that service.
The porches were crowded, and even the yard
outside, and it became evident that they must
aiise and build.

The decision was reached unanimously at an
outdoor meeting of the whole congregation, held
at the call of Mansiki. All knew the purpose of
the meeting, and all came prepared to make any

107
108 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

sacrifice necessary in order to have a church
building. After singing, reading of the Scrip-
tures, and prayer, secretaries were appointed and
contributions called for. Instantly half a dozen
men were on their feet, but before they could
speak, three venerable old men who had been
sitting together in the centre of the audience
arose, and the younger men immediately gave
way. They were the village elders, and one of
them proceeded as spokesman to address the
meeting.

“Dear brothers and sisters,” he said, “all
around us are houses for demon-worship, and for
the worship of idols of wood and stone, but up
to the present time the Lord God of Hosts has
had no visible dwelling place among us. The
whole past of our lives has been put in at the
worship of evil things. The best of everything
has gone into the service of demons and idols.
The time left us is short. We have taken our
old lives down and rebuilt them to the glory of
God. Even so let us take the building which has
hitherto housed Buddha and his worship, tear it
down, remove it from its place, and put it up
again as a tabernacle for our God.”

All knew what he meant, and as the three old
men took their seats, enthusiastic cries of assent
rose from all sides. The temple at the top of the
mountain, to which Kesiki had so often trudged
her weary way, was now deserted both of priests
and worshippers. The timbers were very old,
A CHANGED WORLD 109

but some of them were still good, and there were
beside many hundreds of yangs’ worth of stone
and tile in the building. It was two hours of
mountain climbing away from the village, but
willing hands make light work, and in a very
few moments fifty men had offered to help tear
the building down and transfer the material,
manload by manload, to the proposed site of the
church building. Ko Pansoo promptly tendered
the use of his ox to bring down the timbers, al-
though he knew what the offer involved. It
meant that he would not have the use of the
animal for the spring ploughing, and that he him-
self would have to take the beast’s place at the
front of the plow, with Kesiki at the handles.
The work would not be so well done nor the
year’s crop so good in consequence, but they
could get along.

For a site, old Mr. No offered a beautiful
location which he had been reserving for years
for his own burial place.

“Put this old body anywhere you like,” he
said. “I want to see God’s house go up on that
spot.”

The Min father and son came forward with an
offer of standing timber from a magnificent pine
grove which had been in the family for eleven
generations, and several men immediately offered
their services in felling the trees and reducing
them to beams and pillars.

Then the women came forward with offerings
110 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

and pledges. Old Sim Ssi stripped from her
fingers two huge silver rings and handed them
in, together with a beautiful knife-holder of
wrought gold, and others followed her example
until there was a little heap of gold, silver, and
jade ornaments on the floor in front of the sec-
retaries. Pobai knew where she could get some
silkworms, and she promised the proceeds from
a bolt of “Myunchoo” [native silk goods].
Kesiki contemplated a crop of cotton, and prom-
ised the price of two bolts of cotton cloth.
Toothless Kwun Ssi had a pig in the pen at home,
and the worth of the pig was added to the fund.
The Mother of the Conquering One promised the
results of the first hatch from her little flock of
fowls.

One poor woman, the wife of a drunken, per-
secuting husband, slipped out and came back
with a silk jacket left from her wedding trous-
seau and the one article of any value which she
possessed, and after all was over, one woman, a
widow and long in consumption, was discovered
weeping because she had nothing to give, and the
others crowded around her with loving words
and caresses, assuring her that she with her tears
had given more than they all. It was a glorious
occasion. Never had the village of Royal Help-
fulness so richly exemplified the name, and never
did any people go to a sweeter rest than this little
band of Christians on the night after this memo-
rable meeting.
A CHANGED WORLD 111

Before many days the early dawn of each
spring morning saw a procession of men march-
ing Indian-file up the mountainside, armed with
“ jikkies ”—wooden racks for carrying loads on
the back—baskets, axes, and picks. As they
went along they sang until the woods resounded,
and after they reached the old temple.and cast
themselves upon it like so many swarming ants,
tearing up the roof-tiles, demolishing the walls
of dried mud, and loosening the old timbers, still
snatches of Christian melody welled up in their
hearts and broke in sweet strains from their lips
until old Buddha’s ears rang with the medley of
unaccustomed sounds.

In the course of a long career as an eminent
and highly respected idol, he had gazed into
thousands of bleeding hearts and had listened to
thousands of heartbroken petitions; he had
looked on at greed and deceit, selfishness and
rapacity, but to-day he saw for the first time love
and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost, and listened
to the tuneful praise of Jehovah. If he realised
his power gone and his worship despised, he
was too thorough a gentleman to show chagrin or
emotion of any other kind, but stood his ground
with the unshaken complacency of generations
in his face, until one of the workmen, by an
inadvertent movement, precipitated him over on
his back. There he lay, his gilt shoulders in the
dust, his wooden base turned up to the public,
exposed at last for the hollow sham that he was.
112 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

Afternoon and evening saw a return procession
crawling down the mountainside, heavy-laden as
to body, but still light as to heart, each man
carrying on his back a great load of tiles or
stones. No one ever computed the number of
trips made back and forth, either by the men
or by Ko Pansoo’s ox, but the patient animal did
his part with the rest, and no doubt rejoiced in
spirit with his fellow-labourers when the last load
of usable material was brought away. He was
accustomed to labour, but there were those who
wrought with him who were not—men who, until
the love of Christ constrained them, would have
regarded the mere suggestion of muscular exer-
tion as an insult.

It was late summer when the building was
completed and the congregation came into the
full enjoyment of the fruit of their labours. Then
glad news came from the magistracy. The mis-
sionary was coming to see them. He would
dedicate the building, examine the catechumens,
and baptise those who were ready, administer
communion, baptise the children, marry any
couples who presented themselves, adjudicate any
differences, advise, rebuke, exhort, and get them
into shape to pass through the next long space
of time which perforce intervened between’ his
visits. Mansiki and Pobai were to entertain him.
‘A stir of joyful anticipation pervaded everything.

At the missionary’s house that gentleman was
preparing for the trip by getting out his folding
A CHANGED WORLD 113

canvas cot, and stuffing his outfit of bedclothes
into a big bag, also of canvas. The trip was to
be a short one this time, and he was going light-
handed, leaving behind him the necessities of life
as represented by American articles of diet. Yung
Kyoo, who usually went along in the capacity of
cook, was thus rendered superfluous, but the
youth evidently had something to say in the
matter.

He came in and stood behind the missionary’s
chair, with eyes cast down and an air of some
embarrassment.

Presently he said: “The pouin [lady] says
that you are going to Cho Wangi.”

The missionary assented, and Yung Kyoo con-
tinued with even more diffidence: “That is
where the girl lives that I am expecting to
marry.”

“Indeed,” said the missionary with interest.
“T hadn’t known that you were engaged, Yung
Kyoo. How long since, may I ask?”

“Only a few weeks,” returned Yung Kyoo,
pensively. “I had had no thoughts at all of any-
thing of the kind, but my mother got after me
about it, and the girl’s friends too gave us no
rest, so I consented, finally, to get rid of the
bother.”

“This is all very interesting,” said the mis-
sionary. “You have not seen her, of course?”

“Only her soochok” [hands and feet], re-
turned Yung Kyoo, with the same pensive air.
114 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

“Her hands and feet! And how did that hap-
pen?”

“Well, you see a mutual friend told me that
she was going to pass along a certain street at a
certain hour, so I went into a house along the
way and peeked through the crack of the door
at her.”

“Tt was satisfactory, I hope,” ventured the
missionary, after a pause.

“ Somewhat,” returned Yung Kyoo, reservedly.
Then he went on with what seemed like a sudden
access of courage: “ The pouin tells me that in
your country engaged people see and talk with
each other before they are married.”

“So they do,” admitted the missionary, “ but
that is entirely contrary to the best Korean cus-
tom, isn’t it, Yung Kyoo?”’

“Yes, it is,” replied Yung Kyoo, with in-
creasing boldness, “and so are a lot of things
that you do; but I like your ways better, and
what I want to ask is, if you will not let me go
along with you to Cho Wangi and arrange for
me to see this girl—not alone, of course, that
would never do, but with all her family and
yourself present.”

The boy stopped, breathless at his own au-
dacity, and the missionary replied with an air
of grave consideration, that in a matter where
the proprieties were so seriously concerned, he
would have to consult the “ pouin.” Mrs. Mis-
sionary was called in, and Yung Kyoo repaired
A CHANGED WORLD 115

to the kitchen to send up petitions that she might
be graciously disposed. Every woman reader,
at least, of this simple tale knows already what
the attitude of that lady was, and the next morn-
ing when the missionary started away, Yung
Kyoo was at his heels, his cheeks red, his eyes
shining, and his long braid of hair freshly combed
and oiled to the last degree of glossiness.

Six miles of a summer morning to one of long
legs and a light heart, or even to one of light
heart alone, are hardly worth mentioning, and
Cho Wangi was soon in sight. The whole vil-
lage was on the watch to welcome the missionary,
but Grandmother Yoon anticipated them all and
appeared on the scene while he was still a long
way off, with the offering of a hard-boiled goose
egg with which to stay the pangs of hunger until
dinner time should arrive. A man less dauntless
‘than he might have been appalled, but he was
descended from stanch Scotch stock, adorned
here and there with martyrs, and he was blest
beside with a digestion which never faltered at
anything. So he accepted the egg with thanks,
and carried it in his hand until he arrived at
Mansiki’s house, and then he began calmly at
one end of it and made his way through to the
other, while Grandma Yoon sat at his side and
watched the disappearance of each mouthful with
unfeigned satisfaction.

The multitudinous greetings over, the mis-
sionary started in for a busy day. First came
116 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

the examination of candidates for baptism, a
dozen of them, all more or less anxious and
flustered, but most of them tolerably well pre-
pared. Then came candidates for the catechu-
menate—men, women, and children. Here was
Iksoo, a little boy of eleven, leading his father
by the hand. The child had accepted Christ at
the evening services and had persisted in
his faith in the face of real persecution.
Beatings, imprisonment, and even stabbing
at the hands of his father, he had endured
without wavering, and now the man’s opposition
was broken down, his heart melted, and he
came with his little son, asking for entrance into
the church.

Grandma Yoon reappeared here. Her interest
in Christianity had begun with hearing the sing-
ing as she went by Mansiki’s house. Never had
such a rapturous sound saluted her ears, and all
she had desired was to live long enough to learn
how to make it herself. Up to that time she had
never learned to read, and she was sixty-five
years old. But when she found that there was
a book which contained the words that accom-
panied those beautiful sounds, scholastic ambition
awoke in her breast, and she went to work with
the help of her little granddaughter to learn to
decipher the characters.

“And now I can!” she said, in a posi-
tive tremble of pride and triumph. “Just
listen ! ”
A CHANGED WORLD 117

Little Poktooni, who sat at her side, opened
the hymnbook at “ Jesus loves me, this I know,”
and pointed out each character with her finger
while grandmother followed along with shaking
voice, only stumbling a little here and there. It
was the happiest moment of her life. Plainly
there was no just reason for keeping either
grandma or Poktooni out of the catechu-
menate.

Mr. Min, who had been admitted to the
catechumenate some time before, came next,
accompanied by a young woman. The faces of
both showed signs of recent weeping, although
they were calm now.

“ Moska” [pastor], said the man, “I have a
confession to make. Since I saw you last I have
committed a grievous sin. As you know, I have
no children, and I have wanted children very
much. I want little boys and girls to climb about
my knees, and keep my name alive and my
memory green after I am gone. And so I
yielded to temptation and took a second wife in
the hope that I might have my heart’s desire. I
have never been happy about it, and the other day
when I heard that you were coming, I felt too
ashamed to put in an appearance, and determined
to hide until you went away. I just sat in the
house and wept and mourned until my chugeun
chip [little house; that is, concubine] said to me:
“If sin makes us as ashamed as this before man,
how will it be hereafter when you stand before
118 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

God?’ So the two of us spent the whole night
till daybreak weeping together and trying to
come to some conclusion, and at dawn God sent
us the comfort that he promises to those who
mourn. My concubine said: ‘It is better to do
right, even if it kills us, than to keep on living
in sin. Let us separate and do according to
God’s will.’ I felt that she was right, and I
have loaded up an ox with her things and am
on my way to take her back home, but I wanted
to tell you all about it first.”

The missionary shaded his eyes with his hand,
and a few big drops fell on the mat in front of
him. He felt for his handkerchief, which did
not seem to be there. Mr. Min saw his dilemma
and tendered him the use of the long straps of
white cotton cloth which secured his outer
garments to his person. It was accepted in the
same simple spirit in which it was offered, and
the tears were wiped away, but still words
seemed to fail the missionary. The house was
full now of sympathetic friends and neighbours
who had mourned over Mr. Min’s downfall and
had prayed for his repentance. In the_silence
that followed the voice of the “ chungeun chip ”
was heard.

“ Dear friends,” she said, “ you see before you
a very grateful woman. I am a poor, filthy
creature, yet God has not called me filthy, but has
pitied and led me, until to-day through the love
of Christ I have been enabled to break through
A CHANGED WORLD 119

the net of sin and escape from the place of
destruction. If the Lord Jesus can show such
wonders of grace to a poor creature like I am,
what will he not do for you? Oh, will you not
every one of you serve him from henceforth with
your whole hearts?”

Prayer followed, and the singing of a hymn,
and then the whole company repaired to the door-
yard to see the little party off. There was the ox
loaded up with a bundle of clothes, a comfort, and
a pillow, a couple of gourds, a Testament and
hymnbook, and food enough in the way of
millet and beans to last through the coming
winter. All looked on in sympathetic silence
while this little Korean Hagar took up her way
into the wilderness, trudging along at the ox’s
heels while Abraham led the way at his
head.

It was dinner time now, and Pobai came in
with a little round table not a foot high and not
much more than a foot in diameter, filled with
steaming viands. Kesiki, too, with a heart full
of hospitality, came running over with an offer-
ing of her own—a bowl! full of buckwheat vermi-
celli in long, slippery strings. Politeness dictated
that the missionary should be left to himself to
dispose of his meal, but curiosity pleaded for a
look at his way of eating. The result was a com-
promise which cleared the room but left space
outside the door and window crowded thick with
heads. The soup was soon disposed of. The
120 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

missionary tasted it, found it was good, hoped
it was not made of dogmeat, and ate it all. Then
he attacked the vermicelli.

He had often seen Koreans eating it with their
chopsticks, transferring the long shreds from
the bowl to their mouths with perfect grace and
dexterity, and he had made earnest attempts him-
self to learn the art by practice both in public.and
private. Nevertheless his efforts on the present
occasion to secure a taste of the elusive dainty
were a dismal and ludicrous failure, yet not one
discourteous smile revealed the inward merri-
ment which all the beholders felt. After watch-
ing him in silence for a few moments, Grand-
father Kim came to the relief of his incompetency
with a long-handled, flat-bowled brass spoon, and
the vermicelli was finally captured with the help
of this implement. For the remainder of the
meal grandfather sat beside him and personally
superintended the transfer of each morsel to the
proper receptacle. He tore up the salt fish with
his fingers and popped the shreds into the mis-
sionary’s mouth, and wiped off the brass spoon,
when necessary, on the tails of his own coat.
Every kindness that his loving old heart could
suggest was offered.

More examinations and a wedding occupied
the afternoon, and it was eight o’clock at night
before the missionary was reminded by the sight
of Yung Kyoo’s suggestive countenance in the
doorway, that an arrangement had been made for
A CHANGED WORLD 121

the evening whereby that young gentleman was
to have an opportunity to behold the lady of his
mother’s choice. It was altogether contrary to
good custom, and the consent of her natural
guardians had been secured with much difficulty.
Arriving at the house, which was not far away,
they found the room crowded with the lady’s
relatives, in the midst of whom she sat with
downcast eyes, perfectly dumb and motionless.
Yung Kyoo took his seat as far away from her .
as the confines of the room permitted, and as far
as the missionary was able to detect, did not
once allow his eyes to wander in her direction.
Yet when the call was over and they walked away
together, in reply to the missionary’s question he
said with modest assurance that the indications
were that there would be affection between them.
Just how he had arrived at this conclusion ever
continued to be a mystery to the missionary,
but I am glad to be able to record that the
event proved the correctness of Yung Kyoo’s
judgment.

Sabbath morning dawned clear and _ bright.
From early morn people began assembling in the
new church, and until late at night it was not
once entirely clear of worshippers. The whole
day was a continual feast for hungry souls. A
sunrise prayer meeting, Sabbath school and
dedicatory service in the morning; baptisms and
the Lord’s Supper in the afternoon; a prayer,
praise, and testimony service in the evening.
122 DAYBREAK IN KOREA

Through it all old Sim Ssi was like a glorified.
being. When evening came, and all were pour-
ing out their hearts in stirring testimonies to
God’s saving power, she arose, and in her arms
was the Buddha of gilded wood who had been
dispossessed of his ancient home. Holding it
out to the missionary, she said: ‘Take this
when you go back to visit your people in the
Beautiful Country [America]; tell them that
from the worship of things like this, and many
times worse than this, the gospel has delivered
us.”

It was late when the meeting broke up and all
the farewells were uttered, but the moon was
bright and the missionary did not dread the home
trip, for his heart sang all the way, and as
the congregation scattered to their homes soft
snatches of Christian melody revealed the various
ways that they took. The homeward path
for Pobai and Mansiki lay through fields of sum-
mer corn, the long leaves rustling above their
heads in the evening breeze. He carried the little
blind child on his back, and she led old Grand-
father Kim by the hand. High in the heavens
sailed the great moon, and Sabbath calm and
peace were everywhere.

Pobai’s thoughts went back to that other
evening years ago in her home village, when her
mother had sent her across the town on an
errand, and it had seemed to her that the whole
world held nothing but wickedness and misery.
A CHANGED WORLD 123

She reached forward in the moonlight and
touched her husband’s garment so gently that he
did not perceive it, and murmured something
softly to herself, with upturned face.

“ All the world is changed now,” she said.

THE END

 

THE QUINN & BODEN CO. PRESS, RAHWAY, N. J.
MISSIONARY—TRAVELS

 

 

 

The Cail of Korea

Illustrated, net, 75¢. H. G. UNDERWOOD
“Dr. Underwood knows Korea, its territory, its people,
and its needs, and his book has the special value that at-
taches to expert judgment. The volume is packed with in-
formation, but it is written in so agreeable a style that it is
as attractive as a novel, and particularly well suited to
serve as a guide to our young people in their study of mis-
sions,”—The Examiner,

 

: ACollection of Sketches and Anecdotes,
Things Korean Diplomatic and Missionary,

Illustrated, net, $1.25. HORACE N. ALLEN
Gathered from a twenty years’ residence in Korea and neigh-

boring countries by the late Envoy Extraordinary and Minister
Plenipotentiary of the United States to Korea.

 

Breaking Down Chinese Walls

From a Doctor’s Viewpoint.
Illustrated, net, $1.00. ELLIOTT f. OSGOOD

“Dr. Osgood was for eight years a physician at Chu

Cheo, and conducted a hospital and dispensary, visiting and
preaching the Gospel in the villages round about. He writes
from experience. The object is to show the influence and
ower of the medical missionary service, and of the daily
ives of the missionaries upon the natives, told in a most in-
teresting manner by the record of the living examples.”—
United Presbyterian.

 

Present-Day Conditions in China
Boards, net, soc. MARSHALL BROOMHALL

“This book is very impressive to those who do know
something of “present-day conuitions in China,’’ and most
startling to those who do not. Maps, tables and letterpress
combine to give a marvelous presentation of facts.”—Eugene
Stock, Church Missionary Society.

 

The New Horoscope of Missions
Net, $1.co. JAMES S. DENNIS

“Dr. Dennis, who has long been a close student of for-
eign missions, and speaks with authority, gives in this volume
a broad general view of the present aspects of the missionary
situation, as foundation for ‘the new horoscope’ which he
aims to give. The book is made up of lectures delivered at
the McCormick Theological Seminary on The John H. Con-
verse Foundation.”—Ezaminer.
MISSIONARY—TRAVELS

The Kingdom in India

With Introductory Biographical Sketch by Henry N.Cobb,D.D.
Net, $1.50. JACOB CHAMBERLAIN

“This volume is Mr. Chamberlain’s own account of what
he did, saw and felt. As a teacher, a preacher and a medical
missionary, Dr. Chamberlain stood in the front ranks. If
all who are abroad could have the ability, the training, and
the heart interest in the redemption of the endarkened lands
that Mr. Chamberlain’s life reveals, and the suport for carry-
ing on the gospel were adequately furnished, the future would
be radiant with hope.”—Religious Telescope.

 

The History of Protestant Missions
in India
Illustrated, 8vo, cloth, net, $2.50. JULIUS RICHTER

The author of this book is the authority in Germany on
missionary subjects. This, his latest work, has proven so
valuable as to demand this translation into English. India is
a vast field and the missionary operations there are carried on
by many societies. This survey of the field is broad and ac-
curate, it reaches every part of the work and every society in
the field, and gives a splendid summary of what has actually
been accomplished. It has the unqualified approbation of the
workers on the field themselves.

 

A Story of Mission Work in Southern India,
Net, $1.00. AMY WILSON CARMICHAEL

Mission-loving men and women, if you would know
India, and the glorious uphill fighting of its missionaries, you
must read this book, hot with actual experiences, and learn
the truth.

“A priceless contribution to Missionary literature.”—
Illustrated Missionary News.

Overweights of Joy

 

Bishop Hannington and The Story of the
» Uganda Mission
Illustrated, net, $1.00. W. GRINTON BERRY

The personality of Bishop Hannington was full of color
and vigor, and the story of his work, particularly of his ad-
ventures in East Africa, ending with his martyrdom on the
shores of the Victoria Nyanza, is one of the most fascinating
in missionary annals. Hannington was. himself a_ picturesque
writer, with a noteworthy gift of producing dashing and hu-
morous descriptive sketches, and quite a third of the present
volume consists of Hannington’s own narratives,
TRAVEL—RESEARCH

eae —_——

The Jungle Folk of Africa
With Introduction by Robert Mackenzie, D.D., LL.D.

(Illustrated, net, $1.50. ROBERT H. MILLIGAN

_ Mr. Milligan has given us a book which has all the fas-
cination of the narratives of the famous travelers. The singu-
lar power of the book is to make the black African seem a
real human person. This book is written as a personal nar-
rative and the author gives his own experiences with the
natives of several tribes as he knew them. These experiences
were tragic and comic, sadly mingled and so human that the
book is certain to take rank as a standard. No casual trav-
eler can ever excell it for close information.

The Continent of Opportunity

. The South American Republics — Their History, Their re-
sources, Their Outlook.

ANCIS E. CLARK, D.D.
~ Illustrated, net, $1.50. EE F

“Dr. Clark’s impressions are fresh and vivid, the scenic
features, the marvelous natural resources of this vast terri-
tory, and the social characteristics of the people are pre-
sented in interesting and informing fashion. Dr. Clark’s
journey, which occupied five months, was begun at Panama,
when he sailed for Valparaiso. He visited, after Panama,
Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Chile, Agentine, Uruguay and Brazil.

map and numerous illustrations add to the value of the
book.” —The Interior.

Drugging a Nation

The Story of the Influence of Opium on the Chinese Nation

Illustrated. Iw press. SAMUEL MERWIN

~ Mr. Merwin has a well established reputation as a novel-
ist, but recently joined the editorial staff of “Success” and
Jast year made a trip through China for the purpose of dis-
covering the effects of the use of opium upon the Chinese.
He here presents his findings and deductions, and shows a
startling condition for which the Chinese themselves are not
primarily responsible, and against which their government is
making a determined fight.

Twenty Years in Persia

A Narrative of Life under the Shadow of Three Shahs, with
experiences of travel and observation and an account of
recent changes in Iran, by the Director of the American
Presbyterian Hospital, Teheran.

Illustrated, net, $1.50. JOHN G. WISHARD

It is stated that less than three hundred Americans have
ever set foot within the bounds of Iran. Recalling Persia’s
long and honorable history, her learning and civilization dating
back almost to the beginning of time, yet hidden for centu-
ties from the Western World, first-hand information by this
long-time resident physician will prove uniquely interesting
and be a revelation to most readers,