AdTOI^YFROM 
 THEtiANDOr 
 MOI^NING CALM 
 
 fEOasiirilSmtrr^Wmr 
 
Book 
 
 
 rn[yrighl]j° /f/J 
 
 COPVKIGHT DEPOSm 
 
POKJUMIE 
 
KOREAN LADY AND MAID 
 
POK J UM I E 
 
 A Story from the Land 
 of Morning Calm 
 
 By 
 ELLASUE CANTER WAGNER 
 
 Author of "Kim Su Bang" and Other Korean Stories 
 
 Nashville, Tenn.; Dallas, Tex. 
 
 Publishing House of the M. E. Church, South 
 
 Smith & Lamar, Agents 
 
 1911 
 
5SMB 
 
 Copyright, ign 
 
 BY 
 
 Smith & Lamar 
 
 I 5.^0 
 
 ©CI.A8(i3.'577 
 
DEDICATION, 
 
 With love for those whose faith has been mi; in- 
 
 spiration, whose lo^altp has been mj) joj^, 
 
 and whose life stories have been my 
 
 theme, I dedicate this book to 
 
 the women of Korea. 
 
FOREWORD. 
 
 Believing that a closer and more intimate 
 knowledge of the lives of the people of Korea 
 will call forth greater sympathy and help for 
 these people, I write this book. I write in the 
 hope that I may bring this people in a land far 
 away nearer to the reader, and that their heart- 
 aches and sorrows may seem more real. 
 
 In Korea, as in all the world, it is the voice 
 of Christ that drives away the midnight gloom, 
 the touch of Jesus that brings hope again to 
 aching hearts, the tender love of the Saviour 
 that brings peace to lonely lives in times of de- 
 spair. 
 
 May those who read find in the lives of these 
 
 people the deep need of our Saviour and echo 
 
 the prayer of our heart, "Korea for Christ!" 
 
 Ellasue Canter Wagner. 
 SoNGDo, Korea. 
 
 (7), 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 In the Gloaming ii 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 The Little Frisnd i8 
 
 ' CHAPTER III. 
 "I Must Save Her" 29 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 The Search 34 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 The Rescue 38 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 The Crisis 42 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Despair 48 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 Light in Darkness 50 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 The Diplomat 55 
 
 (9) 
 
lO CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 New Plans 60 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 A Pending Battle Averted 63 
 
 CHAPTER Xn. 
 A Bargain 72 
 
 CHAPTER Xni. 
 Poppy Dreams 76 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Strength in Weakness 79 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 "Not As the World Giveth, Give I unto You" 86 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 A Gleam of Hope 89 
 
 CHAPTER XVn. 
 The Doctor 97 
 
 CHAPTER XVHI. 
 The House of Healing 103 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 When Dreams Come True 106 
 
POKJUMIE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 In the Gloaming. 
 
 TWILIGHT was falling fast at the 
 close of a perfect day in spring. Un- 
 der high, shelving cliffs the broad 
 Han River flowed by, calm and majestic. On 
 the pladid surface of the water the deepening 
 shadows took on purple tints of night; and 
 here and yonder in the rippling eddies peeped 
 the stars, twinkling and laughing as they 
 seemed to play at hide and seek in the depths 
 of the river. 
 
 High above on the wooded fringe of the 
 precipice overlooking the river, twilight still 
 lingered, and in the fading light a woman made 
 her way slowly up the slight hill to the brink. 
 From the style and from the rich material of 
 her garments, one might correctly judge that 
 she was a high-class Korean lady. Her steps 
 had that uncertainty which comes from fatigue 
 
 (II) 
 
12 POKJUMIE. 
 
 after a long journey afoot. She was young — 
 in fact, scarcely more than a girl. But the face 
 was wan and haggard, and the brilliant beauty 
 for which she was far famed did not show 
 through the delicate features now drawn by 
 pain and suffering. The lovely brown eyes, 
 large and soft, were filled with terror, and she 
 looked from side to side with a shudder into the 
 thick undergrowth where lingering light gave 
 to the shadows weird, fantastic shapes. 
 
 At the edge of the cliff she stood and in si- 
 lence gazed long into the depths far below her. 
 With an attitude of utter dejection and misery, 
 lifting her arms above her head, she clasped 
 her hands until the pink nails tore the tender 
 flesh, while her clear, sweet voice rang out over 
 the quiet waters. 
 
 "Woe, woe is me! Surely of all women I 
 am most miserable! Can it be possible that I 
 was a few weeks ago so happy and light-heart- 
 ed ? Yes ; I never dreamed of this. Fool ! fool 
 that I was! Why should I have felt my posi- 
 tion more secure than that of hundreds of oth- 
 
IN THE GLOAMING, 13 
 
 ers of Korea's small wives [concubines] ? Yet 
 because he bought me from my father when a 
 little child I dreamed that my husband would 
 treat me differently. Perhaps it was because 
 I reigned supreme in his heart so long that I 
 mistook my place and proudly imagined it 
 would always be thus. 
 
 "After all, I am not sorry that I behaved as 
 I did, for O how I hate that painted beauty of a 
 dancing girl that he brought home with him! 
 I see yet her big, insolent black eyes as she 
 looked at me, and the sneer on her face. I do 
 hate her! Yes, I'm glad I struck her in the 
 face when she told me that I was no longer 
 beautiful enough to suit a wealthy man. No 
 doubt she was glad too, for it gave her the op- 
 portunity she wanted to make an appeal against 
 me. But I never dreamed that even a dancing 
 girl would be so low as to wound herself and 
 then accuse me of the crime. Ah! I still see 
 the red blood on the white arm and dripping 
 from .my knife, which she had picked up from 
 the chest and plunged into her own arm. 
 
14 POKJUMIE, 
 
 When Chang Tab Young came in just after 
 and saw me on the floor, crouching in terror, 
 and heard her ringing accusal that I had tried 
 to murder her, no wonder he believed the false- 
 hood, for I was too surprised and overcome to 
 defend myself. Eigo! eigo!^ If I could just 
 forget those flashing eyes he turned on me — 
 the eyes I love so much, and that once held such 
 a world of tenderness for me! Ever since his 
 face has haunted me as he looked at me then, 
 his eyes angry and set ; not one particle of love, 
 but only fierce hate in them when he picked up 
 that long club as though to strike me and said : 
 *Go before I kill you, you impudent child of 
 a dog! Get out of my sight, and never let me 
 see you again. Not guilty? Isn't that knife 
 and blood proof ? Where shall you go ? What 
 do I care? There are plenty of rich men look- 
 ing for pretty concubines.' 
 
 "That is the bitterest dreg — that he should 
 have thought that I could sink so low. Then 
 
 '^Eigo is an exclamation of grief and sorrow. 
 
IN THE GLOAMING. 15 
 
 he lifted the dub threateningly and cried again : 
 *Go quickly, I say; for if you don't I shall call 
 the slaves and have you beaten within an inch 
 of your worthless life/ 
 
 "In my hopeless agony I had crept up to 
 him and clasped his feet. But he prized loose 
 my trembling fingers, and with angry words 
 thrust me roughly out of the door. O, even 
 then he could not strike me ! So I came away, 
 numb and hopeless. Once I looked back and 
 saw standing in the door the dancing girl, on 
 her hateful face a leer of triumph. But Chang 
 Tab Young had turned his back, and was 
 walking away across the courtyard. I wonder 
 how soon he will find out his mistake. Then 
 he will care, for O I know he loved me dearly 
 once! 
 
 "River, river, you look so dark and deep! 
 All day I have been on my way to you, O river, 
 for I know not where else to go. Be merciful 
 to me, river, and give me peace. Quiet this 
 restless agony of longing and love in my heart; 
 then art thou my best and truest friend. 
 
l6 POKJUMIE. 
 
 "O Stars above, know ye if there be a life 
 beyond the river, and whether that Hfe is worth 
 the living? I am so tired, and I long to be at 
 rest. 
 
 ** Suppose they should find my body. If he 
 looked into my dead face, would he care? O, 
 the hardest, bitterest suffering of all is that I 
 love him still, and I must continue to love him 
 while I live! Why is it that I cannot forget 
 that face, those eyes, the way the dark hair 
 clings to that noble brow, the turn of the head, 
 that tender smile that used to play around the 
 lips I love?" 
 
 Then for a long time the girlish figure sat in 
 perfect silence, her head falling forward and 
 her hands folded in her lap, as though lost in 
 thoughts and loving memories, while fast-fall- 
 ing night was deepening. 
 
 Struggling to her feet, she raised her dark 
 eyes to the starry dome above her; and the 
 tense drawn face relaxed into its regular 
 lines of wondrous beauty. Then as she 
 stretched her hands up toward the evening staTj 
 
IN THE GLOAMING. ly 
 
 the pale lips faltered: ''Hananim Mopseta! 
 Hananim Mopseta [Great Spirit of all, suffer it 
 not to be] ! I know not what thou art, nor 
 where thou art ; but I believe that thou dost un- 
 derstand and pity. If I am about to do wrong, 
 forgive me; for I know not what else to do. 
 There is no place left for me on earth, no life 
 but a life of sin and shame, and this I cannot 
 accept. Forgive me and give me peace.'* 
 
 The tired eyes were filled with a new peace. 
 The broad white brow was calm and placid, 
 and on the pallid features there was no sign of 
 the recent storm. She looked not into the 
 dusky depths of the Han River, but up, far 
 away to the bright stars and beyond, as she 
 took a step, then another over the river's brink. 
 
 Out of the darkness below there was an an- 
 swering splash, and from the depths of the dis- 
 mal forest beyond the river came the faint cry 
 of a lone night bird ; then all was still. 
 
 2 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 The Little Friend. 
 
 POKJUMIE the Gentle had passed with 
 halting step and backward glance over 
 the hilltop which cut off the home place 
 from her vision. 
 
 The man who, with flushed, angry face, paced 
 up and down the courtyard did not look in the 
 direction which she had taken. His august 
 dignity as the head of the house had been dis- 
 turbed, his love of peace and quiet had been 
 interrupted. My lord's Oriental ideas of gen- 
 tility had been shaken, and all this by foolish 
 women's silly quarrels. 
 
 The more he thought of this insult to his 
 authority and this breach of etiquette, the more 
 his displeasure and anger grew, and in his 
 fury he yielded to his inclination to speak the 
 thoughts aloud: "Little scoundrel! She ob- 
 jected to my bringing home the dancing girl, 
 did she? And she not even my first wife, 
 (i8) 
 
THE LITTLE FRIEND. 19 
 
 either! Well, she did take authority for her 
 due ! What right — what right, I say, could this 
 witch have to question my actions ?" 
 
 He was fairly shrieking in his fury; and a 
 little slave girl, drawn by curiosity at the loud- 
 ness of his voice^ hid behind the gatepost and 
 peeped in, much surprised to see her usually 
 quiet master in such a rage. 
 
 Chang Tab Young spread out his hands, 
 palms upward, and continued in a high-pitched 
 voice to address the apparently empty court, 
 unaware that there was a brown eye at every 
 peephole : "What is Korea coming to, anyway, 
 when such things are allowed? Why, these 
 women will soon be thinking they are equal 
 to their master ! Certainly I have not held my 
 household in hand firmly enough. They shall 
 learn that I am master. Hey, you ! What are 
 you doing there?" This last question was ad- 
 dressed to the trembling slave girl behind the 
 gate. "Come out of there, you wretch! 
 Eavesdropping on your master! Where are 
 
20 POKJUMIE. 
 
 your manners? You little varmint, I'll teach 
 you some." 
 
 By this time the gentleman of wealth had 
 worked himself up into an uncontrollable fury. 
 At his heartstrings, too, was tugging the mem- 
 ory of a little face, white with fear and hope- 
 lessness. Over his eyes he passed his hand to 
 shut out the vision of large brown eyes uplift- 
 ed to his in silent pleading. He must vent his 
 wrath on some one in order to forget. 
 
 "Where are all my servants ? Su Chun Ah ! 
 Su Chun Ah!" E de na ra! I say, come 
 here! Do you see that girl? Beat her with 
 forty stripes." 
 
 The poor little child (for she was nothing 
 more) was carried from the courtyard, scream- 
 ing in terror; and soon upon the ears of the 
 enraged master sounded the blows, accented 
 
 ^A Korean gentleman never uses his servant's proper 
 name in speaking to his manservant; he uses his little 
 boy name. But for any one except his master to use 
 this name after a slave has his hair put up in the "top- 
 knot" would be an insult. 
 
THE LITTLE FRIEND. 21 
 
 by loud shrieks of pain. This was a poor 
 soothing balm for his wounded sensibilities, 
 and with rapid strides he hurried to the inner 
 court. "Stop that noise, you little vagabond! 
 Stop it, I say, instantly! Bind a napkin about 
 her mouth and give her forty stripes more." 
 
 Then away he strode out of the inclosure, 
 across the rice field and up to the greensward 
 under the chestnut grove beyond, in order to 
 be rid of the disturbances and noises of his 
 home. 
 
 After his departure from the court, the ex- 
 citement continued as his orders were obeyed 
 with little show of mercy. In the midst of the 
 noisy clamor a paper screen door on the right- 
 hand side of a long, narrow veranda was 
 pushed softly back, and out stepped a Korean 
 lady. A glance at the rich dress and small, 
 clear-cut features served to prove her of high 
 class. Her attitude as she stood in the door- 
 way and watched the servants was one of ut- 
 ter indifference and coldness. Having noted 
 the cause of the turmoil and strife, she turned 
 
22 POKJUMIE. 
 
 without a word and with no trace of interest 
 in her face to reenter her apartments. As she 
 turned, a deep cough racked the frail body — a 
 cough which showed that the White Plague 
 had marked her for its own. This woman of 
 some thirty years was the first wife of Chang 
 Tab Young. Ever since she was brought here 
 a bride, twenty years of age, she had been 
 striving to attain the perfect dignity and poise 
 prescribed as the requisite of a high-class Ko- 
 rean lady. Instead of poise she had attained 
 an icy indifference to all about her, which was 
 the cause of great fear and at the same time of 
 unbounded admiration on the part of the serv- 
 ants. There was none who could break through 
 this cool reserve or call forth affection save her 
 only child, a girl of eight. This daughter, 
 which they still called Agie (baby), seemed in 
 turn the only one who bestowed any real love 
 on the "Snow Lady," as the servants some- 
 times called her. Agie was a bright little thing, 
 lovable as well as pretty, and the pet of the 
 
THE LITTLE FRIEND. 23 
 
 whole household. Any sufferings even among 
 dumb animals, caused her real pain. 
 
 Now, as the Snow Lady was closing the 
 paper door little Agie bounded across the ve- 
 randa into the room ahead of her mother and 
 threw herself headlong on the soft comfort 
 spread, Korean fashion, for a bed on the floor. 
 In an abandon of grief she sobbed and cried, 
 and her mother's quiet questioning received no 
 response. After some time she grew more 
 quiet, the convulsive sobs still shaking her lit- 
 tle form. Then she sat up, drying her eyes on 
 the sleeve of her bright bodice. ''O my omani 
 [mother], omani! It was just awful! That 
 wicked man beat the poor little Ash Girl until 
 she died." 
 
 Little Agie thought that death was the re- 
 sult of the whipping, but the little slave (called 
 Ash Girl because her hair was sunburned to that 
 color) had merely fainted under the torture of 
 the lash. 
 
 The Snow Lady yawned indifferently be- 
 fore she replied calmly : *'Is that all ? I knew 
 
24 
 
 POKJUMIE. 
 
 that. The cries of that miserable child awoke 
 me from my nap. I supposed some one must 
 have injured you from the great disturbance 
 you made. My child, how often have I told 
 you that, as the daughter of Chang Tab Young 
 and as the future daughter-in-law of the illus- 
 trious Kang family, you must learn that only 
 dignity and self-control are becoming in a 
 lady? Did you ever see me act as you have 
 just done ?" 
 
 The grief -stricken Agie looked at her lady 
 mother with clear, dry eyes, but a storm was 
 raging in the tender heart. "Yes, mother, I 
 know. But you don't care; you never care. 
 You never care for anything but being proper, 
 and I don't want to be a lady ever — no, not 
 ever," and she stamped her tiny foot in proud 
 defiance. "Why," continued the child, "when 
 my little dog died, Ash Girl helped me to bury 
 him, and we both cried." The tears were again 
 coursing down the flushed cheeks, and her 
 hands were clenched. "Ash Girl was good, if 
 
THE LITTLE FRIEND. 25 
 
 she was a slave; and when I was sick all last 
 summer she carried me on her back." 
 
 The child was again shaking from head to 
 foot with noisy sobs, which was distinctly un- 
 pleasant for any one of Lady Chang's aversion 
 to all display of feelings. Reaching over to a 
 tiny table and picking up a dainty bit of needle- 
 work, the mother sank back into an easy posi- 
 tion and said : "Agie, leave me this minute. Go 
 play and forget all about the troubles of noisy 
 slaves." 
 
 Agie cast one glance of rebellious indignation 
 at her mother and departed with the same light- 
 ning-like speed that had brought her in a few 
 minutes before. She made her way quickly 
 around to the outer side of the court, thinking 
 that, without doubt, her little friend was dead ; 
 for had she not seen the still, white face and 
 the blood-stained dress? There by a huge pine 
 tree she leaned while fear, sorrow, and love 
 wrung her tender heart. 
 
 Now, this pine tree was directly in the line 
 of vision of a certain young lady who had been 
 
26 POKJUMIE. 
 
 quite a long time without any diversion. This 
 was the dancing girl. She wanted excitement 
 and craved something quite different from sit- 
 ting- alone in a richly furnished sarang (recep- 
 tion room). Things had not turned out exact- 
 ly to suit her fancy. Certainly she had a right 
 to expect that after Pokjumie's departure my 
 lord would turn his attention to her. By this 
 time she could have charmed away his savage 
 mood with her shining eyes and the graceful 
 movements of the dance. But what could one 
 do when a moody man ran off by himself? 
 So the beauty was not in the best of humor. 
 If the truth must be told, she was in a very 
 bad temper. Seeing now the little girl leaning 
 disconsolately against the tree, she walked 
 across the veranda and moved with a queenly 
 air to the side of the weeping child. Curiosity 
 and cruelty were written on her face as she 
 gave a sharp pull on the long silken braid. 
 
 Out of desire for diversion and a natural in- 
 clination to worry and tease others, she buried 
 
THE LITTLE FRIEND. 27 
 
 her face in her arms and began mock sobs and 
 tears in imitation of the child. 
 
 As Agie looked up quickly and saw who her 
 tormentor was, her tears dried instantly and her 
 eyes flashed hate and defiance as every feature 
 and even her attitude bespoke a dignity equal to 
 that of her lady mother. Without one word 
 the child stood thus, her young lips curled in 
 scorn, cool^ self-possessed, and stern, while the 
 dancing girl leaned sobbing in feigned grief 
 against the gnarled pine tree. Young as Agie 
 was, she hated this woman with all her childish 
 heart. She had heard the servants and the 
 women talk about her, and she knew that all 
 respectable Korean woman scorned one of this 
 class. She knew, too, that the strife and grief 
 of the day were in some way due to this crea- 
 ture. 
 
 Whirling suddenly from her position by the 
 tree, the dancing girl turned to Agie and, clasp- 
 ing her roughly by the shoulder, exclaimed: 
 "Why, you are a beauty! What a splendid 
 
28 POKJUMIE. 
 
 dancing girl you would make ! Come, I'll teach 
 you a step." 
 
 Hate and anger blazed higher in the bright 
 eyes as the child shook herself loose and cried 
 out: "You vile thing! How dare you touch 
 me?'' 
 
 At these words the sneering black eyes 
 flashed dangerously, and she tauntingly said: 
 ''Slow, slowly now, little lady ! Do you forget, 
 or perhaps you don't know, that it was I who 
 had that other little slave girl beaten awhile 
 ago? How would you like a little of the same 
 medicine for impudence?" She knew well 
 enough to whom she spoke, but the desire to 
 tease and to torment came with her before re- 
 gard for truth. 
 
 With the dignity and grace of a tiny prin- 
 cess, Agie turned her back and without a word 
 walked into the inner court. The outwitted 
 beauty, with a laughing jeer, reentered the 
 lonely, quiet sarang. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 "I Must Save Her." 
 
 THE tiny lady lost her manner of aveng- 
 ing princess as she entered the inner 
 court, and, rushing up to an old serv- 
 ant coming from the other side, she cried in 
 her usual impetuous way: ''O, say, where is 
 father? Tell me quickly, where is father?" 
 
 The old servant smiled into the face of the 
 child and, patting the shimmering satin of the 
 black head, replied : ''Why, baby, what's your 
 hurry? Where is your father? Let me see. 
 I believe he went over to the chestnut grove." 
 
 The old woman smiled indulgently as the 
 child sped away across the paddy field. "Ev- 
 ery one loves the darling," she whispered to 
 herself tenderly. 
 
 The little feet scampered hurriedly toward 
 the chestnut grove. The path was narrow be- 
 tween the rice fields, and in her hurry she once 
 slipped, and one of her tiny sandals dropped 
 
 (29) 
 
30 POKJUMIE. 
 
 into the muddy water. But she sped on with- 
 out a glance at her white-stockinged foot, now 
 without a sandal. Through the thick foliage 
 of the dense trees baby saw the blue silk robes 
 of her father and hastened onward. 
 
 When Chang Tab Young caught sight of his 
 little daughter, the stern, fixed expression of 
 his face relaxed. This was his only child, and 
 he loved her devotedly. She sank on the grass 
 by his side and, leaning over, looked without 
 fear into his face. One would not believe that 
 the raging tyrant of an hour ago was the ten- 
 der, loving father who stroked the head of his 
 little girl with gentle hand while a wealth of 
 love beamed in his eyes. Her little arms were 
 clasped about his neck, and her eyes looked full 
 into his as Agie began solemnly: ''Father, she 
 didn't do it. She is good, father. I love her. 
 You ought to have believed her when she said 
 she didn't do it." 
 
 The father loosened her tight grip about his 
 neck and, holding her hands in his, said gently : 
 "Little daughter, I know not of whom you 
 
"I MUST SAVE HER." 31 
 
 Speak. Can't you talk with less excitement 
 and tell me more clearly what you mean?" 
 
 ''Well, father, I saw it; I saw it all. I heard 
 Pokjumie crying, and I thought that mean 
 dancing girl was making her cry. I love Pok- 
 jumie, father. You know she has been here 
 as long as I have, and she was only a little girl 
 like me when she came." 
 
 The man sat up eagerly, all attention now, 
 and said: "Hurry, baby. What is this you 
 saw?" 
 
 "Well, I heard Pokjumie crying softly, and 
 I went to the door. It was closed, and I ran 
 my finger through the paper and made a peep- 
 hole. She was being abused by the dancing 
 girl, who was saying mean things to Pokjumie. 
 She said you didn't love her any more, and 
 that you wanted to get rid of her." 
 
 "Yes, yes; go on," the man muttered. 
 
 "Well, after awhile that mean thing picked 
 up Pokjumie's big knife lying on the chest 
 and cut her own arm her own self, she did, 
 and"—. 
 
32 
 
 POKJUMIE. 
 
 The man sprang to his feet. All the fea- 
 tures changed again to the angry man of the 
 afternoon as he shook the child. "Quickly, 
 quickly, child ; tell me all quickly !" 
 
 Agie was not surprised at this change in 
 him. She had expected it. 'Then," she said, 
 ''you came in the other door and drove poor 
 little Pokjumie away. You dreadful man! 
 And you killed the poor little Ash Girl too." 
 
 But the father was not listening to his little 
 judge, who was the only one living who dared 
 tell him of his faults. She was the only one 
 besides Pokjumie who did not fear him. She 
 knew his love and the gentleness of his nature, 
 so she was not afraid to sit in judgment at any 
 time, her rebukes always meeting smiling eyes. 
 
 But he was hurrying to the house with rapid, 
 swinging strides while he whispered hoarsely 
 over and over : "I must save her ! I must save 
 her! Perhaps it is too late. I saw it in her 
 eyes." His heart was now filled with pain and 
 an agony of fear. He could not shut out the 
 memory of those tender, pleading eyes. "Fool, 
 
'7 MUST SAVE HER." 33 
 
 fool that I am !" he muttered as he hurried to 
 the house. "If I am only not too late !" 
 
 Agie looked after him as he rushed away. 
 Then, scrambling to her feet, she caught the 
 glimmer of the fairy, filmy wings of a butter- 
 fly flitting past her, and she turned to chase 
 this beauty. "Father will fix it all right," she 
 murmured as she sped away after the winged 
 will-o*-the-wisp. Childish sorrows never last 
 long, and she had cast on her father's shoul- 
 ders all her heavy burdens. 
 3 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 The Search. 
 
 CHANG TAB YOUNG was like a rag- 
 ing volcano. He stormed, he swore; 
 and while preparations for the search 
 were being made with all possible speed, every 
 minute seemed like an hour to him. Finally 
 all his men and servants were ready, and he 
 himself led the search for the poor girl that he 
 had driven from his home only a few hours 
 before. 
 
 Ten men and two slave women, besides two 
 chair coolies with a silken sedan chair for Pok- 
 jumie to ride in should they find her, consti- 
 tuted the party, with Chang Tab Young at 
 the head on his little gray donkey. 
 
 For the first few miles there was no trouble 
 
 in tracing the lost woman. "Yes, I saw her," 
 
 lisped the man who was transplanting rice in 
 
 the field by the roadside. ''She took that path," 
 
 (34) 
 
THE SEARCH. 35 
 
 and he smiled to himself as the procession 
 passed quickly out of sight among the hills. 
 "Nothing new in runaways. I guessed it when 
 she passed," he muttered as he bent again to 
 his task. 
 
 Farther on an old woman washing clothes 
 by the side of a running creek told them of the 
 way Pokjumie had taken. 
 
 "Poor dear!" said the old woman to her- 
 self as they passed on. She stood with the 
 long stick in her hand with which she beat the 
 clothes to snowy whiteness. Looking after the 
 strange party, her eyes rested on the form of 
 the storming, raging man on the donkey. 
 "Something wrong there. Poor child!" and 
 with a deep sigh she shook out the wet gar- 
 ments in her left hand preparatory to further 
 beating. 
 
 "Eigo! Eigo!" Chang Tab Young cried. 
 "Am I too late ? Hurry men, hurry ! It is sun- 
 down." This last was to the weary, dusty men 
 in his wake, who were straining every muscle 
 to keep up with him and the donkey. 
 
36 POKJUMIE. 
 
 The man's eyes were strained and wild, and 
 he repeated over and over: '^Eigo! Eigo! 
 Suppose I am too late. Eigo! Eigo! Too 
 late!" 
 
 The women in the search were crying and 
 sobbing aloud, for all of them loved the sweet 
 Pokjumie. 
 
 Just after sunset they overtook a coolie with 
 a jiggy/ loaded with wood, on his back. Cho, 
 the coolie, put down the jiggy and listened with 
 interest to the eager questions of the gentle- 
 man on the aristocratic donkey. His hungry 
 eyes took in the gentleman's silk robes and the 
 richness of the plush-covered chair. "Evident- 
 ly wealthy people," he thought. 
 
 "Yes, I saw such a woman not five minutes 
 ago. She took the left-hand road," he replied 
 with a cunning glitter in his eyes. 
 
 "Ha! some money in this for me," he said 
 
 ^A rough wooden frame which is strapped to the 
 back, on which are carried various and sundry burdens, 
 from brushwood for fuel to pottery and other ware for 
 sale. 
 
THE SEARCH. 37 
 
 under his breath as he watched the last of the 
 party disappear down the left-hand path. 
 Turning, he sped away at full speed down the 
 road to the right hand — the road that led to 
 tha river. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 The Rescue. 
 
 CHO, the coolie, chuckled softly to him- 
 self as he sped away toward the river. 
 After awhile he saw, a little dis- 
 tance ahead, among the bushes and shrubbery 
 by the highway, the flutter of a silken dress; 
 then he went more slowly. "Guess there will 
 be more in this than in a jiggy of wood, my 
 lady," he said softly, and the crafty eyes were 
 cruel as well as cunning. "I think my gentle- 
 man on that little gray donkey would give 
 much to get you back; and if he doesn't, I 
 know who will, little beauty. Yes, I knew 
 something was wrong when I saw her. Who 
 could not tell by the garb she wore that she 
 was a lady ? And what Korean woman would 
 go out or walk out alone on the public high- 
 way? Hi ! I ought to make enough out of this 
 to get a good rice field and be able to lay the 
 jiggy aside." 
 (38) 
 
THE RESCUE. oq 
 
 Thinking of the delightful prospects ahead, 
 he took his eyes off of the slowly moving figure 
 in front of him for some moments while he 
 diu some examples in arithmetic with tiny 
 sticks on the ground, Korean fashion. "Yes, 
 it will take something like twenty thousand 
 yang" to buy those fields I want, but I guess 
 she will bring it. Well, where has she gone, 
 anyway?" 
 
 The dusky shades of twilight were deepen- 
 ing in the wooded valley, and the figure of the 
 girl had disappeared from the highway in front 
 of him. 
 
 As Pokjumie walked along she had no idea 
 of the slinking form far behind her. She was 
 too preoccupied to think of any one following 
 her. Memories filled her heart. Suddenly on 
 her meditations broke the soft murmur of 
 running water. Leaving the highway where 
 it descends the hill to the ferry on the brink of 
 the river, she plunged into the woods in the 
 
 ^One yang is equal to one cent in American currency, 
 or four cents in Korean currency. 
 
40 
 
 POKWMIB. 
 
 direction whence came the musical notes of the 
 waters. 
 
 Cho, the cooHe, had lost the trail. He went 
 to the turn in the road and looked down to the 
 ferry. No one was there. She had not had 
 time to descend to the river. Where was she ? 
 Perhaps she had seen him and hidden in the 
 woods. So he turned and searched in the di- 
 rection of the cliff above the river. 
 
 Just as Cho was about to give up the search 
 as hopeless he thought he heard a voice. He 
 listened intently. Yes, a soft, murmuring 
 voice came to him. He hurried in the direc- 
 tion whence it came. Listen! What did she 
 say? 
 
 "Give, O give me peace !" 
 
 These words floated to Cho on the calm 
 evening air. Then, before he could realize 
 what had happened, the sound of a splash in the 
 river below brought a sharp cry from him as 
 he turned and rushed hurriedly down the hill 
 toward the ferry. There, on the little veranda 
 of the hut by the river's brink, the gray-haired 
 
THE RESCUE. ., 
 
 4^ 
 
 ferryman was nodding over his pipe. His 
 boat was securely moored at the landing. Cho 
 rushed madly by him, jumped into the boat, 
 cut the rope, and pushed the boat into the quiet 
 stream before the ferryman realized that any- 
 thing had happened. 
 
 Not from any desire to save a human life, 
 but for greed of gain would he save this girl. 
 Yes, he would drown her just as readily could 
 the gain come in that way. 
 
 A moment after Pokjumie sank for the 
 second time, Cho was there. He saw her as 
 she came to the surface, and plunged into the 
 river. A few masterful strokes, and he was by 
 her side. He lifted the unconscious girl into 
 the boat, clambered in, and with easy strokes 
 made for the landing. 
 
 Cho's eyes dwelt on the limp, lifeless form 
 in the bottom of the boat. "We'll bring her 
 around," he nodded. In his cruel eyes shone 
 the crafty, cunning light of unscrupulous de- 
 sire for gain. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 The Crisis. 
 
 NOT far back from the green banks of 
 the Han, partly hidden by a clump 
 of trees, was a little mud hut like those 
 generally occupied by the poorest and lowest 
 of Korean peasants. The house was built 
 with one kang (a room 8x8 feet). The 
 dingy walls were thatched with mud over a 
 structure of sticks and straw rope. The straw 
 thatching on the roof had not been repaired for 
 several years, and its ragged appearance sug- 
 gested a leaky shelter for the rainy season. 
 Connecting with the house and extending 
 around a small courtyard was a leaning, tot- 
 tering fence made of brush and sticks, nine 
 feet high — a very meager structure, but serv- 
 ing as a protection from the prying eyes of 
 the public and affording privacy to the woman 
 of the family while at work. 
 
 This was the house of Cho, the coolie. His 
 (42) 
 
THE CRISIS. 43 
 
 wife, with the youngest of her four children 
 strapped to her back, was just entering the 
 tiny courtyard with a huge earthen vessel of 
 water balanced on her head. From her soiled 
 clothes and slovenly appearance one could easi- 
 ly judge that she was not at all careful of her 
 appearance. The expression of hardiness in her 
 face bespoke ill temper and cruelty. As she en- 
 tered her domain the three children who had 
 been at play on the road in front of the house 
 followed her; for it was time for the evening 
 meal, and they were hungry. The clothing of 
 the youngest, a boy of two, was only a hair rib- 
 bon. His little sister, just two years older, had 
 no ribbon to complete her costume, which con- 
 sisted of wooden rain shoes many sizes too 
 large. The tiny, naked bodies were grimy, and 
 their hair fell down in unkempt disorder, which 
 was made even worse by the constant scratching 
 and tearing by the little dirty brown hands. 
 The oldest child, a girl of nine, brought up the 
 rear of the unattractive procession. Her cloth- 
 ing was a little more substantial than the atmos- 
 
44 POKJUMIE. 
 
 phere, but so filthy that one could not know its 
 color and texture. 
 
 The woman set down her water jar, un- 
 strapped the baby from her back, placed him 
 among the noisy children, and then turned to 
 greet Cho, who at that moment entered the 
 gate. 
 
 "Look here!" she cried in a high, angry 
 voice, for Mrs. Cho was one woman of the 
 Orient who had a sharp tongue and a nagging 
 manner with all, her lord included. "Fm tired 
 of this extra burden you brought home. You 
 can never make any money out of that girl, 
 anyway, because she is going to die in spite of 
 all we can do. It's five days now since you 
 took her from the river, and she has never 
 even opened her eyes or showed any sign of life 
 except that queer sort of breathing." 
 
 "Dry up! Tend to your own business and 
 obey what I tell you. If you let that girl die 
 and I lose that rice field, I'll kill you. I tell 
 you I will. Don't you hear?" 
 
 His voice rose higher and higher, and the 
 
THE CRISIS. 45 
 
 children scampered away in terror. But Mrs. 
 Cho showed no fear. She answered back in 
 the same tone, and soon their voices rose to- 
 gether in trying to outyell each other. After 
 this noisy and fruitless discussion, the rice for 
 the evening meal was served in bowls, and they 
 sat on the steps and on the stones in the yard 
 while they ravenously ate the frugal meal of 
 rice and dried turnip tops. 
 
 In the one vile room which composed the 
 dwelling lay a little figure on a pile of rags. 
 The room was filthy beyond description, and ev- 
 erywhere were to be seen the traces of vermin. 
 The room was absolutely empty, without fur- 
 niture except the scrap of straw matting on the 
 floor. 
 
 Mrs. Cho pushed back the paper screen door 
 anr'' entered. In her hand was a bowl of dirty- 
 looking fluid. "I guess she will have to eat 
 or she will die/* she said; for her husband's 
 words had made some impression on her, and 
 no food had passed the pale lips of the girl 
 since she was brought to the home. Mrs. Cho 
 
46 POKJUMIE. 
 
 took a brass spoon, and drop by drop forced a 
 few spoonfuls between the tightly shut teeth. 
 Cho entered also and, stepping over the chil- 
 dren, who were already asleep on the floor, be- 
 gan to unfold his comfort preparatory to his 
 night's rest on the floor, as is the custom of 
 Koreans of all classes. 
 
 "Her clothes were surely lovely," said the 
 woman with a sigh. ''I washed them and dried 
 them to-day, and they look like new." 
 
 'It's well you did. She will need them be- 
 fore long, and she has to look like a lady. Her 
 future depends upon it, and she don't look it 
 much now in your old dirty clothes," and he 
 cast a scornful glance at the girl. 
 
 Truly she looked little like the trim, dainty 
 Pokjumie of Chang Tab Young's household. 
 Nevertheless, even in this garb the delicate fea- 
 tures and refinement of her face shone forth. 
 One would have known instantly that she did 
 not belong in these surroundings, and could no 
 more thrive here than could a pure white lily 
 live in the vileness of that yard. 
 
THE CRISIS. 
 
 47 
 
 Soon the family was settled for the night, 
 the flickering, spluttering candle was blown out, 
 and all was quiet save for the deep breathing 
 of the children. 
 
 The stranger in their midst sighed and 
 turned. "O river," she murmured softly, "you 
 look so calm and peaceful ! Give peace and 
 rest !" Then in her delirium the scene changed, 
 and in a stronger voice she begged her husband 
 not to send her away. ^'Beloved ! beloved ! I 
 know that you love me. I know it. Don't send 
 me away !" 
 
 Those near her were deaf to the sweet, plead- 
 ing voice; and he who would have given his 
 life to have been able to answer her was walk- 
 ing the floor in desperation and anguish, un- 
 willing to believe that his Pokjumie was real- 
 ly lost to him. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 Despair. 
 
 THE long, weary search for his lost 
 wife had been fruitless, and after 
 many days of anxiety, fear, and tor- 
 ture Chang Tab Young had given it up, though 
 he still sent the servants and coolies out to look 
 for the lost one. 
 
 Two months of suspense and despair, which 
 seemed like an eternity, had passed, and no 
 hope was in his burdened heart. Now all day 
 he sat on the purple silk cushion in the sarang 
 with his head on his breast, or walked beneath 
 the chestnut trees; and not even his little 
 daughter, with her bright chatter, could bring 
 a smile to his haggard face. 
 
 The dancing girl was highly indignant and 
 dissatisfied. She did not like this state of af- 
 fairs. The master had not abused nor scolded 
 her for the part she took in Pokjumie's de- 
 parture. She would have been able to combat 
 (48) 
 
DESPAIR. 49 
 
 any verbal chastisement, she thought; but he 
 had treated her with utter, silent ccntempt, as 
 though she did not exist. His life was now 
 concentrated on one object. 
 
 In order to drown the thoughts that crowded 
 upon him and to set aside that fearful self-con- 
 demnation, was he not pardonable for taking a 
 bit of the poppy weed now and then in his de- 
 spair ? 
 4 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 Light in Darkness. 
 
 THE Snow Lady was passing away. 
 Her suffering was very slight, and her 
 going away was truly like the quiet, 
 unobtrusive melting of the snow in the win- 
 ter. To the last she retained her dignity and 
 ideas of propriety. 
 
 Agie had been sitting by her side all the long 
 August afternoon, fanning her and brushing 
 away the flies. The child knew that her moth- 
 er was ill, but little guessed to what extent; 
 for no one who was suffering would look so 
 calm and peaceful. 
 
 Outside in the courtyard large bushes of 
 fragrant blossoms attracted the bees, and their 
 lazy droning was the only sound that fell on 
 the hot, sultry air. 
 
 The little girl had fallen asleep, and on awak- 
 ing started forward in surprise on finding her 
 mother's large, bright eyes fixed upon her. 
 
 (50) 
 
LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 5 1 
 
 "What is it, mother? Do you want any- 
 thing ?'' 
 
 "No; nothing, little daughter. Sit still. I 
 only want to talk to you awhile, for I'm going 
 away." 
 
 "Going away, mother? Why, you can't go 
 now; you are sick. Wait until you are well, 
 and then you can go." 
 
 "I don't mean that^ my child ; but I am going 
 to leave this world. I feel and know that the 
 end is at hand." 
 
 The child sprang to her feet in surprise and 
 terror. "No, no! Not that!" she wailed. 
 Then in her impetuous way she threw herself 
 beside her mother and gave way to her stormy 
 grief. "O mother, mother! Where are you 
 going? I am so afraid! Will they call the 
 sorceress to drive away the evil spirits? Will 
 the spirits carry you away? Eigo! Eigo! 
 I am so afraid !" 
 
 "No. Unlike most Korean women, I have 
 never taken an interest in demon worship. 
 Once I was afraid to die. Ah! yes, I was 
 
52 POKJUMIE. 
 
 afraid. I saw an old servant die amid the 
 clamoring of the sorcerer's gongs; I heard her 
 shrieks of despair. How my soul shrank back 
 in fear from the dark unknown and the awful 
 spirits that would meet me there ! Yes, yes ; I, 
 too, was afraid then. But one day a woman 
 came in here and talked to me awhile. She left 
 me a sheet of paper with printing on it [a leaf- 
 let]. This I kept carefully and read often. 
 This said that Hananium, the Great Spirit of 
 heaven, made all things, and that he was our 
 Father, that he loves us and wants us to be 
 good. So he sent his Son to this world to save 
 us. This paper said, too, that we need not fear 
 the evil spirits if we trust in Hananium and 
 Yasu." 
 
 The weak voice had sunk to a whisper now, 
 and Agie bent her head to hear. 
 
 "Now I am not afraid. I have not been 
 good, but I did the best I knew. Here is that 
 paper. Keep it and do not fear." She thrust 
 into the girl's hand a worn yellow paper. 
 "Call your father," she continued, and then 
 sank back on the pallet exhausted. 
 
LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 53 
 
 Chang Tab Young returned with his daugh- 
 ter with hurried footsteps. There had never 
 been any love between these two. Married by 
 their parents when but children, they had 
 grown up together — together, yet apart. The 
 husband had always the utmost respect for his 
 wife and even admiration for the ability with 
 which she managed the servants and the house- 
 hold affairs. She had reached the pinnacle of 
 calm dignity and even gentleness — the Korean 
 ideal. He was proud of his wife, as he was of 
 his ancestral tablets. 
 
 Now as he sat beside her in the dying hour 
 he saw a side of her character that he had not 
 before seen revealed. There in the quiet room 
 he sat, slowly waving to and fro the fan in 
 one hand, while with the other he stroked the 
 black head with gentle, soothing touch. Thus 
 they sat alone; for Agie had run away to a 
 sheltered nook in the old chestnut grove to face 
 her troubles alone, as was her custom. 
 
 The voice of the sick woman was very weak 
 now. Even the whispered tones were growing 
 
54 POKJUMIE. 
 
 fainter, and he bent his head low above her 
 to catch every word. 
 
 "I am dying, and I have a last request to 
 make. Do not let them make any devil wor- 
 ship after my death for me. I do not believe 
 in it. But have a very quiet funeral, and carry 
 me to the grave in peace." She was slipping 
 away, and each word came lower and lower and 
 with more difficulty. *'I — am — not — afraid. 
 Ask — Agie. Now — pe — na — e, kae se o" 
 (abide in peace). 
 
 The white lids fluttered, the clasped hands 
 fell apart; then all was still save for the deep 
 sobs of the man. 
 
 They honored the desires of the Snow 
 Lady by granting her request; and with little 
 display and no devil worship she was laid to 
 rest, to the surprise and disgust of pageant- 
 loving neighbors and relatives. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 The Diplomat. 
 
 NOT long after this Chang Tab Young 
 was forced to take cognizance of the 
 dancing girl. The first wife and mis- 
 tress of the house was dead; Pokjumie, the 
 "small wife," was gone (Was she dead too? 
 Who could know?) ; and the master was too 
 deep in his own sorrows to notice household 
 affairs. 
 
 The dancing girl had high aspirations and 
 ambitions; and should she be recognized as 
 mistress and succeed in establishing herself in 
 authority over the servants even by usurpa- 
 tion, perhaps the master also in time would 
 acknowledge her as head of the household. 
 Yes, then she would punish some of her ene- 
 mies. 
 
 Chang Tab Young, in his absorption and 
 ever-increasing grief, did not notice how things 
 were drifting; but each passing day added to 
 
 (55) 
 
56 POKJUMIE. 
 
 his disgust and hatred for the painted beauty. 
 She was a born poHtician, and by scheming and 
 bribing she had managed to some extent to at- 
 tain power over the servants. They were dis- 
 trustful of her and hated her; but the master 
 did not interfere, and they patiently awaited 
 future developments. 
 
 One day, coming quietly into the court, he 
 heard his little girl's childish treble voice raised 
 in angry tones, and he stopped behind the gate 
 to listen. 
 
 "I shall tell my father if you touch me." 
 
 Then came deeper tones, tense but low: 
 "What of that? Am I not mistress here? I 
 have stood all the impudence and disobedience 
 that I shall take from you. One more word 
 and you shall pay for it." 
 
 The father was roused at last to a knowledge 
 of the true state of affairs at home. Furiously 
 indignant, he strode into their midst, and with 
 a low "Follow me" to the dancing girl turned 
 with quick step to the sarang. 
 
 The meaning of past scenes, which he had 
 
THE DIPLOMAT. 57 
 
 been too absorbed to notice, flashed across his 
 awakened mind. *'What does this mean?" he 
 demanded hoarsely. 
 
 The diplomat noted that her time for action 
 had come. At last he had taken notice of 
 her, and here was her opportunity. She saw, 
 too, that her hold was very loose, and that 
 she must play carefully and cast the dice with 
 deliberation. She was not lacking in intelli- 
 gence or cunning, and she realized that her am- 
 bitions for the future and all her hopes would 
 be blasted if she were not very subtle. So she 
 staked all on one perilous but diplomatic move. 
 At this blunt, straightforward questioning she 
 smiled sweetly at him, sank gracefully upon 
 the soft cushion on the floor, and replied with 
 languid ease: *'Well, my lord, you see I have 
 had some trouble in establishing my authority 
 among the servants. Ks mistress here I deem 
 it wise to be firm though gracious." 
 
 The man stood before her, his flashing eyes 
 and erect shoulders speaking of deep feeling. 
 Her grace and the soft lines of beauty he did 
 
58 POKJUMIE. 
 
 not see. Instead he saw only the cause of his 
 great loss and sorrow. 
 
 "You mistress of my house? Indeed! To 
 bring you here as a pretty plaything was quite 
 a different matter. Listen. I shall instruct 
 the servants at once that no one is to take an 
 order from you. My daughter I shall acknowl- 
 edge as tkc head of this house. You are — 
 nothing!" His voice was low, but the tone 
 bespoke intense anger which might blaze forth 
 like a volcano at any time. Then without an- 
 other word he turned and walked slowly away. 
 
 That night when all the world was asleep 
 a white-veiled figure slipped quietly out of the 
 gate. It was the dancing girl. Her love for 
 Chang Tab Young, born of ambition, fed by 
 the desire to rule and the glamour of wealth, 
 was easily put aside. Finding that her desires 
 and ambitions were doomed, and refusing to be 
 humiliated by him in the manner he had de- 
 clared, she preferred to leave. This was not 
 the life suited to one of her attainments and 
 accomplishments. 
 
THE DIPLOMAT. 59 
 
 The moonlight revealed a covered chair 
 awaiting her around the turn of the road. She 
 entered and was borne away and out of the 
 life of Chang Tab Young forever. Whither? 
 Ah! that is another story. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 New Plans. 
 
 THE months that had passed in the 
 house of Cho had been full of unut- 
 terable woe for Pokjumie. Yes, ob- 
 livion would have been preferable. It would 
 even have been paradise compared to the life 
 here, amid the sordid surroundings, the atmos- 
 phere of strife and disorder. But the filth and 
 misery were overshadowed by her grief and 
 mental suffering. 
 
 Slowly from the brink of the dark river of 
 death she had come back to life. Her agony 
 when she found out her fate was pitiful. She 
 begged, she pleaded, and raved. Entreaty and 
 demand met alike the frigid silence of the 
 Chos. Then, feeling that her case was hope- 
 less, she quietly awaited the inevitable. 
 
 For days she lay upon the wretched pallet 
 in the miserable, dingy little room without ut- 
 tering one word except to refuse the food 
 
 (60) 
 
NEW PLANS. 6l 
 
 brought to her. Death she did not fear now, 
 but Hfe she could not face. 
 
 Cho finally saw whither things were drifting, 
 and threatened to beat her if she would not 
 eat. She looked so weak and white, however, 
 that finally he decided to force her to eat. He 
 bound the tiny, childlike hands, and, holding 
 her in a firm grip, prized open her mouth while 
 his wife fed her meme, or strained rice porridge. 
 
 Strange to say, her beauty was as striking 
 as ever. It shone forth amid her surroundings 
 like the shimmering sheen of a lost pearl in a 
 muddy pathway. 
 
 Cho became quite uneasy, for he feared that 
 if he delayed he might lose his prize. Still his 
 plans were somewhat confused. The one to 
 whom she belonged, her husband, was the one 
 to whom he first intended to return her in ex- 
 change for twenty thousand yang. But his 
 cowardly conscience was uneasy, and he had 
 been afraid to do this. Was Chang Tab Young 
 not a man of power and of great wealth ? Yes, 
 and of temper too, so report said. If he found 
 
62 POKJUMIE. 
 
 that Cho had purposely put him on the wrong 
 trail in order to receive the reward, might he 
 not punish instead of reward? Then, too, 
 from her delirious babbling* he understood that 
 her husband had driven her away. "Perhaps," 
 thought Cho, "he does not want her back home, 
 as he forced her to leave; and he certainly 
 seemed angry that day. It will be surer and 
 safer for me to find another purchaser. Now, 
 there is Na Sung Mung. He is rich. I'll try 
 him." 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 A Pending Battle Averted. 
 
 A STRANGE procession was coming 
 down the hot, dusty lane toward the 
 house of Cho, the coolie. In a Ko- 
 rean chair carried by two strong men rode a 
 lady who was unquestionably a foreigner. She 
 was an American missionary. Following her 
 was a chair very much like her own. In this 
 was a native Bible woman. Behind this was a 
 queer-looking little pony, meek in appearance, 
 but not in nature. Piled up on the pony on 
 both sides and high on his back were all man- 
 ner of articles for the missionary's comfort. 
 In one large box on the left-hand side were 
 packed bedding and a few necessary articles of 
 clothing. On the other side, a box of like size 
 and appearance contained food sufficient for a 
 three weeks' trip by the addition of rice and 
 eggs, which could be bought along the way. 
 On the pony's back were piled a cot, an um- 
 
 (63) 
 
•64 POKJUMIE. 
 
 brella, and sundry bundles and parcels. At the 
 side of the cot was tied a small stew cup. The 
 tiny animal was barely visible under his enor- 
 mous load, and from the expression of his fun- 
 ny little face one might judge that he was con- 
 scious of his ridiculous appearance. As rear 
 guard came one who was of great importance. 
 This was a half-grown lad who served as "chief 
 cook and bottle washer," and who considered 
 himself the protector of the pueen (lady) and 
 general in chief of the expedition. Was it not 
 he who bargained for the rice and eggs along 
 the way? Was it not he who made plans for 
 stopping places and looked after things gener- 
 ally? The procession stopped near the house 
 of Cho for rest and refreshment. The coolies 
 placed the chairs on the ground and fell down 
 on the cool grass by the roadside to indulge in 
 the comfort of a smoke. The ladies emerged 
 from their chairs and stood looking about on 
 the surrounding lavish display of nature's 
 beauty. 
 
 The missionary was low of stature and 
 
A PENDING BATTLE AVERTED. 65 
 
 plump. She had been in Korea more than ten 
 years, and had learned not only the language, 
 but the manners and customs of the people. 
 Those natives who knew her well felt that she 
 was not a foreigner, but one of themselves. 
 She loved them and gave herself in never-tir- 
 ing service to them ; and in return they gave her 
 their respect, honor, and love. 
 
 She called the boy, the "prime minister," to 
 her and said to him : "It is three o'clock, and I 
 am hungry. The coolies and the rest of you 
 had your dinners back at the inn. Now I shall 
 take mine. After you have made the charcoal 
 fire in the brazier, heat some water for my tea. 
 This, with a can of those beans and some 
 crackers, will be fine, and I shall eat under that 
 lovely big tree yonder." 
 
 The boy departed to do her bidding, and the 
 pueen turned her attention to the queer group 
 which surrounded her. Mrs. Cho and the chil-' 
 dren, having watched with much interest and 
 curiosity the coming of the visitor, had 
 emerged from the brushwood inclosure and 
 5 
 
66 POKJUMIE. 
 
 proceeded to investigate. Questions without 
 number were poured forth, all of which were 
 patiently answered at length. Then the vis- 
 itor turned tactfully to the message of the gos- 
 pel. However, Mrs. Cho was not inclined to 
 be interested in this talk, and turned her eyes 
 to the queer food in preparation, leaving the 
 pueen to talk to her wide-eyed, open-mouthed 
 offspring. 
 
 The "prime minister" was not so patient as 
 his mistress, and, turning from the smoking 
 brazier, he yelled: *Take your finger out of 
 that ! Haven't you any manners ?" 
 
 This was to Mrs. Cho, who with a very 
 grimy forefinger was tasting the beans from an 
 open tin can. That was one thing the boy 
 could not endure, for he was a model of clean- 
 liness, in principle at least. 
 
 The lady came up in time to prevent a scene, 
 and with friendly gentleness asked: ''Mother, 
 can you tell us where to find the spring?" 
 
 The angry scowl on the woman's face passed 
 away as she replied : "Yes, yes ; certainly. Let 
 me bring the water." 
 
A PENDING BATTLE AVERTED. 67 
 
 No sooner had she gone around the turn of 
 the hill toward the spring than the pale, beau- 
 tiful girl standing behind the dirty, naked chil- 
 dren seemed to take on new life and interest. 
 With longing eyes she took in every line 
 of the foreign lady's sweet face, and saw be- 
 hind the calm blue eyes the deep peace and 
 beauty of a life given to Christ. In a few sec- 
 onds the girl had made up her mind that she 
 could and would trust this lady. With trem- 
 bling limbs she made her way past the children, 
 and before the quiet little pueen knew what had 
 happened she had thrown herself on her knees 
 at her feet and was sobbing out her pitiful 
 story. 
 
 The missionary was strangely touched by 
 the recital, and she did not doubt its truth ; for, 
 alas! it is not an unusual story that she told. 
 Tears were streaming down her face as she 
 put her arms about the frail, trembling girl 
 and strove to comfort her. 
 
 Just then Mrs. Cho came running up, all ex- 
 citement and concern. "O pueen, did she hurt 
 
68 POKJUMIE. 
 
 you? I forgot about her when I left," which 
 last was true enough. ''She is crazy, just as 
 crazy as can be. Sometimes she even imag- 
 ines that she is a rich man's wife. She is my 
 niece, and I ought to keep her locked up for 
 the safety of the public." 
 
 The look of wild despair in the girl's eyes 
 half confirmed the woman's words, but the 
 dainty features bore no trace of relationship to 
 the coarse ugliness of Mrs. Cho. 
 
 Mrs. Cho lifted her rough voice to a howl: 
 "Cho Su Bang! Cho Su Bang" (Mr. Cho)! 
 This she repeated again and again while the 
 girl knelt in silent terror at the foreign lady's 
 feet. With shaking hand the missionary 
 stroked the bowed head, feeling her helpless- 
 ness but offering silent prayers for guidance 
 and strength. 
 
 Finally, in response to the woman's loud 
 cries for him, Cho appeared. He came run- 
 ning as fast as he could down the road, with 
 his jiggy on his back. Then, panting for 
 
A PENDING BATTLE AVERTED. 69 
 
 breath and staring with astonishment, he stood 
 watching the group. 
 
 "This child is raving crazy again, and I 
 feared that she might injure the foreign lady," 
 said his wife. 
 
 He took the cue in silence, and, putting down 
 the jiggy from his back, untied the strong 
 straw rope which held the wood on the jiggy. 
 The cunning eyes cast a look of hatred and 
 suspicion toward the foreign woman; then 
 without a word he approached the agitated girl. 
 Quickly and deftly he bound her with the cruel 
 rope, and with strong, rough hands he raised 
 her up and saw that she had fainted. Then, 
 lifting the limp form to his shoulder, he car- 
 ried the unconscious girl toward the house. 
 
 The piteen stood amazed, watching him en- 
 ter the little court, and then started to follow. 
 
 But the "prime minister" clutched her arm 
 in terror. "No, no, pueen; don't go there! 
 Didn't you see his eyes ? He will kill you sure. 
 He is a bad man, very bad, and you could do 
 nothing." 
 
70 POKJUMIE. 
 
 The Bible woman also made her entreaties 
 in almost the same words. 
 
 "But maybe I could buy her," said the mis- 
 sionary. 
 
 "No," said the boy. "Where is the money? 
 You said at noon that we scarcely had money 
 enough left to buy rice." 
 
 The little woman saw the hopelessness of the 
 situation, but she was not the kind to sit and 
 weep until she liad first done all she could. So 
 with determined step she made her way to the 
 house. The rude gate to the court was closed 
 and barred. ''Moon yae ra chu si o" (Give the 
 door to be opened), she called again and again, 
 but no response came from beyond the closed 
 door. After a long while she turned sorrow- 
 fully and went back to the chairs. 
 
 The boy had hurriedly repacked, and every- 
 thing was in readiness to go on. All had for- 
 gotten that piieen had not eaten since morning. 
 
 The boy came forward and said: ''Pueen, 
 your life is at stake. We must move on. I 
 see that man in the bushes back there, and he 
 
A PENDING BATTLE AVERTED. 
 
 71 
 
 would kill us all. Shall we fight? Here are 
 the four coolies and I. We shall fight if you 
 say so." 
 
 *'No; we must not do that. I suppose we 
 should go on. But O that poor child!" She 
 entered her chair almost heartsick and crossed 
 the river to find a night's lodging somewhere 
 and, perchance, other sad lives and other bro- 
 ken hearts. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 A Bargain. 
 
 CHO realized that he must not lose any 
 time, for each day held unknown and 
 unexpected dangers. Now, as he 
 made his way with some anxiety to the house 
 of Na Sung Mung the Wealthy, it was with 
 fierce determination to drive a hard bargain in 
 return for all the expense and trouble of keep- 
 ing the girl so long. The servant showed him 
 into the sarang, where the great man sat on 
 the floor, his feet doubled under him on the 
 flat satin cushion. His beady, cruel eyes, set 
 close together, resembled those of his kinsman, 
 the pig. The heavy jaws and expression, the 
 features and general contour of his face showed 
 plainly the sensual, bestial nature. Every day 
 was given to the invention of new pleasures to 
 gratify him. All his wealth he would squan- 
 der to find new joys. In spite of all this, life 
 was growing tiresome, and he longed for some 
 new diversion. 
 
 (72) 
 
A BARGAIN. 73 
 
 The man now ushered into his presence 
 might have some new plan of interest. So, 
 considering his rank, the welcome Cho re- 
 ceived might have been considered cordial. 
 But since Cho's position was lowly, he must re- 
 main standing in the presence of the great 
 man. He was not long in stating his mission, 
 for he knew the character of the man before 
 him and the probability that if he failed to in- 
 terest him he might be cast out. "O great and 
 mighty man of valor, I hear that as a judge of 
 beauty there are few to equal and none to ex- 
 cel you! Therefore I have something to say 
 to you that will be of interest." 
 
 The eyes of the fat beast before him took 
 on new light, but he replied indifferently : "Say 
 on, then." 
 
 *T have in my house one whose beauty and 
 accomplishments would be a delight to your 
 heart." 
 
 **Your daughter?" he inquired with a sneer. 
 
 **No, not my daughter ; merely a kinswoman. 
 Her husband being dead, she was thrown upon 
 my house for support, and I am a poor man." 
 
74 POKJUMIE. 
 
 "O !" sighed Na the Wealthy. But unbeHef 
 showed in his face as he said: *'Come, now. 
 Tell the truth. I know you. If there is a love- 
 ly woman in your house, you stole her in some 
 way. She is no relation of yours." 
 
 Cho smiled an acquiescence, and with arched 
 brows answered : "Well, your excellency, what 
 difference does that make? She is there; that 
 is the point. She is very beautiful, and what 
 more do you ask? She is well worth fifty 
 thousand yang." 
 
 The man of wealth seemed to consider this 
 a great joke, and the audacity of Cho pleased 
 him vastly. Clapping his hands together, he 
 roared with laughter until red in the face. 
 Then with a great effort he pulled himself to- 
 gether as he said: "Well, my good man, you 
 are a wonder. Now, what of the price for the 
 raving beauty?" 
 
 "My lord, fifty thousand yang is a mean 
 price, the lowest possible. Her large, tender 
 brown eyes fairly melt my hardened heart. 
 She is quite coy and pretends to be very shy. 
 
A BARGAIN. 
 
 75 
 
 but give her time and she will get over that. 
 Her skin is of the softness and color of the 
 apple blossoms. In the dusky shadov^^s of the 
 dark hair linger all the charms of midnight, 
 and no tongue can describe the dainty beauty 
 and fairy grace of her form." 
 
 "You are crazy, man! Who ever heard of 
 such a price? I'll give ten thousand yang, 
 no more/' and he brought down his hand with 
 a resounding blow on the table near by. 
 
 At this Cho turned away with disgust and 
 walked to the door ; but a low laugh caused him 
 to turn back to squabble and barter an hour 
 longer for the honor, yea, the life of an inno- 
 cent, pure woman. 
 
 After a heated discussion and much repeti- 
 tion of the personal charms and merits of the 
 victim, the bargain was closed at twenty thou- 
 sand yangj the girl to come in a closed chair 
 which Na Sung Mung should provide and send 
 the following day, the money to be paid to Cho 
 on sight of the girl. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 Poppy Dreams. 
 
 THE bright September sun at midday 
 looked down on the fast-closed doors 
 and windows of Chang Tab Young's 
 sarang. He still slept and dreamed sweet pop- 
 py dreams. 
 
 A faithful manservant crossed the court, 
 bearing the low table with his master's noon- 
 day meal. Noiselessly he pushed back the pa- 
 per door and, putting off his straw sandals, 
 entered the darkened room. His master had 
 just waked up and still sat on the satin quilt, 
 his face hidden in his shaking hands. He 
 looked up at the servant's cheery greeting, but 
 did not answer. The face bore the marks of 
 suffering. The unhealthy yellow tint of the 
 skin and the sunken eyes showed the ravages 
 of opium. 
 
 The man put down his burden and, while he 
 arranged the food and chopsticks on the table, 
 (76) 
 
POPPY DREAMS. yy 
 
 said : "Your excellency, you have eaten nothing 
 since yesterday. Will you not taste this deli- 
 cious kooksu, this kimclii too? It's from your 
 aunt's house, and is very fine." 
 
 The one to whom this was addressed did not 
 hear. He was pacing up and down the room 
 with nervous tread. His eyes had an expres- 
 sion of dull, haunting pain which was but a re- 
 flection of the gnawing agony in his heart. 
 His long, thin hands were clenched tightly. 
 This craving and fearful pain could be 
 quenched by but one thing; he cared for noth- 
 ing else — only the poppy weed. 
 
 ''Su Chuni, bring me that pipe and that jar." 
 
 *'0 master, won't you eat a little, just a lit- 
 tle, first?" 
 
 The tone was one of real concern and anxie- 
 ty. But the food was unnoticed, and as he re- 
 clined again on the couch he panted : "My pipe ! 
 my pipe ! Take away that sickening food !" 
 
 The pipe and opium were brought, and with 
 tremulous haste his uncertain fingers strove 
 with the bitter weed to hurry into the hands of 
 
78 POKJUMIE. 
 
 Morpheus. One nervous hand held the wicked- 
 looking little pipe, the other fumbled among 
 the articles on the table by his side for the 
 precious opium, while the sorrowful old serv- 
 ant took the untouched food, closed the door 
 behind him, and left the man alone in the dark- 
 ened room to dream his poppy dreams. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 Strength in Weakness. 
 
 THE morning for Pokjumie's depar- 
 ture was at hand. Mrs. Cho, with 
 Httle of gentleness and with evident 
 enjoyment, confided to her the impending doom. 
 "And now," said she in conclusion, "don't look 
 so woebegone. Be sensible and think of the 
 wealth and lovely clothes at your disposal. 
 You are foolish. Come, cheer up now. We 
 don't want any such long-faced brides. Here 
 are your own clothes all nicely fixed for you. 
 Dress yourself, and when I return I want to see 
 a brighter face," and she left the girl alone 
 while she prepared the morning rice. 
 
 Hopelessness and despair Pokjumie had 
 known before, but now the helpless girl sat as 
 if petrified. She did not feel, she did not 
 think, but sat in a dazed condition, with bowed 
 head and clenched hands, in the midst of the 
 disorder and filth of the room. Then, as 
 
 (79) 
 
8o POKJUMIE. 
 
 though a voice had spoken to her, came clearly 
 back to memory the beautiful words she had 
 heard from the foreign lady — the only words 
 she remembered : "Peace I leave with you, my 
 peace I give unto you : not as the world giveth, 
 give I unto you. Let not your heart be trou- 
 bled, neither let it be afraid." She had said 
 they were Jesus's words, and over and over 
 the trembling lips repeated them. 
 
 When Mrs. Cho returned after about an 
 hour, she exclaimed in surprise on finding Pok- 
 jumie in just the position in which she had 
 left her, the bright silk clothes by her side. 
 
 "Well, I suppose I'll have to dress you my- 
 self. Get up !" and she shook her roughly. 
 
 The abundant hair was combed in a way 
 that at other times would have caused tears of 
 pain; but to this and to the process of being 
 robed the girl submitted with the passiveness 
 and silence of a marble statue. 
 
 "There is the chair," cried Mrs. Cho. "We 
 must not keep them waiting. One more touch 
 and we are through." 
 
STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS. gi 
 
 Then from the depths of a chest she brought 
 forth white paint and vermihon to enhance the 
 victim's beauty. Face, hands, and neck were 
 treated to a coat of white, which gave the girl 
 more of the unnatural pallor of the marble 
 figure which she already resembled. The ver- 
 milion dye was then applied in three round 
 spots — one on each cheek and one in the cen- 
 ter of the forehead. 
 
 Cho was called in to view the handiwork, 
 and pronounced it good. Then the painted, 
 trembling girl was half led, half carried to the 
 chair. 
 
 This chair, sent by Na Sung Mung, was 
 covered with bright red and green silk, and 
 was such as is used by all wealthy ladies. The 
 chair was carried by two coolies dressed in 
 blue uniforms, and on each side walked two 
 stout slave women. Cho, with a grin of satis- 
 faction on his face, brought up the rear of the 
 procession. 
 
 Na Sung Mung stood at the door of his 
 sarang as the chair approached. His face had 
 
82 POKJUMIE. 
 
 lost the expression of tired indifference, and the 
 beady, swine-Hke eyes shone with the delight 
 of anticipation. 
 
 The chair was placed on the narrow veranda, 
 and a slave woman lifted its swinging door. 
 
 It was the customary and orthodox thing for 
 the bride to be shy. It was even to be expect- 
 ed that she would have to be almost carried by 
 the two women who led her into the room. Na 
 was delighted with Pokjumie's manner and 
 charmed by her beauty. As she hopelessly sank 
 down on the cushions in the corner to which 
 they had led her, she kept her eyes closed in 
 fear of what would meet her sight. 
 
 One of the women whispered as they left 
 the room : ''How lovely she is ! and what love- 
 ly manners ! Did you notice how she kept her 
 eyes closed and bowed her head? I believe 
 she is a lady that man Cho has stolen. She 
 doesn't look common, like that family." 
 
 Cho received his hard-earned twenty thou- 
 sand yang and departed, while Na reentered 
 the sarang where was the new toy and treas- 
 ure that he now felt he owned, soul and body. 
 
STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS. 83 
 
 Throwing himself down on the cushion in 
 the center of the room, he turned his head to- 
 ward the corner where sat the trembling girl, 
 who was now thoroughly alive to her impend- 
 ing danger. In her heart she was offering the 
 prayer: "O Jesus of the Christians' Bible, help 
 me now ! Help me now !" 
 
 With his bloodshot eyes, the half-drunken 
 wretch leered at her with a frightful expression 
 of features, which was meant as a gentle, re- 
 assuring smile, as he said: "Come, little one. 
 Don't be so shy. I need entertainment. You 
 have been a model of propriety and grace, but 
 this is the time to drop your dignity. Come 
 here and rub my aching head with those pretty 
 white hands." 
 
 The ^'little one" did not move. Instead she 
 sat with downcast eyes in breathless, silent hor- 
 ror. 
 
 Seeing that she would make no move, Na 
 arose with difficulty, and with a harsh, grating 
 laugh started toward the place where she sat 
 shrinking and trembling. She sprang to her 
 
84 POKJUMIE. 
 
 feet and retreated a step, while she looked at 
 him for the first time, her eyes dilating with 
 fear and disgust. As her eyes met his he was 
 conscious of a most delicious thrill. "O, you 
 are superb, my beauty!" he said, and laid a 
 rough hand on her shoulder. 
 
 But she was as quick and lithe as a cat, and, 
 urged by the instinct of self -protection, she 
 was in full command of all her powers. Be- 
 fore he realized what had happened, he was 
 wiping the blood from his face, where long, 
 red marks showed that her nails had torn the 
 flesh. 
 
 In dismay he retreated, and the hate and 
 cunning light in the narrowing eyes told plain- 
 ly that he would make life hard for her. 
 
 Going to the door, the enraged Na called two 
 servants. *'Here," he said, ''carry this little 
 tiger to the chamber of corpses,^ and lock her 
 
 *The interment of the dead among the middle classes 
 is usually on the fifth, seventh, or ninth day after death, 
 but in the case of high officials and heads of wealthy 
 families it is an honor to the departed to keep the corpse 
 
STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS. 85 
 
 up there until she is taught some manners. 
 You ungrateful thing! Take her away, and 
 give her nothing to eat or drink until she re- 
 pents." 
 
 With disappointment and chagrin Na re- 
 turned to his wine cups, mumbling threats and 
 curses upon the ^'beautiful tiger." 
 
 in a room of the house for three months. In the case 
 of royalty the time is never less than six months, which 
 time allows opportunity to make elaborate preparation 
 for the funeral. The art of embalming is not known 
 among the Koreans, and so the room where these bodies 
 are kept is noisome and repulsive in the extreme. The 
 taint and odor always cling to the walls. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 "Not As the World Giveth, Give I 
 UNTO You." 
 
 THE foul room into which the half- 
 fainting Pokjumie was thrust was 
 the place in which the corpse of Na 
 Sung Mung's father had been kept during the 
 three months between death and burial. Only 
 one possessed of diabolical cruelty could have 
 conceived such a plan of punishing a helpless 
 victim. As she sank down on the bare stone 
 floor, she realized the character of her grue- 
 some surroundings. But even this held no ter- 
 rors for her now. And as she heard the men 
 outside close the ponderous wooden door, so 
 great was the relief from the tension of the past 
 few hours that tears — the first that she had shed 
 for many weeks — came to her burning eyes. 
 
 This death chamber had been closed for 
 several years; the roof was in need of re- 
 pairs, and during the long rainy season, which 
 (86) 
 
"NOT AS THE WORLD GIVETH." 87 
 
 had just closed, the rain had beaten in through 
 the dilapidated shelter. Damp, hot, and al- 
 most saturated with a sickening odor, the air 
 was all but stifling ; and the sobbing girl raised 
 herself from the floor and groped about in the 
 darkness for the window, hoping to find a hole 
 sufficient to admit a breath of fresh air. Find- 
 ing at last the tough paper screening (the win- 
 dow), she tore it away with feverish haste. 
 The heavy outside shutter, made of one thick 
 piece of plank, was securely fastened, but did 
 not fit closely, and through the cracks along 
 the outer edges came the blessed pure, fresh 
 air from out of doors. 
 
 That long, black night seemed like an eterni- 
 ty. Would it never pass ? About midnight, as 
 Pokjumie sat with her face pressed against 
 the crack in the low window, she gave a star- 
 tled exclamation at a certain memory. Had 
 she not prayed to Jesus of the Christians' Bi- 
 ble to save her? He had saved her from the 
 peril of that moment. Would he not save her 
 from this ? 
 
88 POKJUMIE. 
 
 "Yes, yes ! I believe he will. 'Let not your 
 heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid/ 
 That was meant for us, and that lady said for 
 me too. I shall try to trust him." 
 
 A sweet comfort and rest stole into her 
 tortured heart, and that peace which is not giv- 
 en by the world filled her soul. The tired eye- 
 lids drooped, and she slept. 
 
 Early the next morning there was a heavy 
 step outside the door; and then a man's voice, 
 the voice of Na, shouted: "Hey there, little 
 tiger beauty! Are you awake? Better come 
 out and enjoy the fresh morning air. Are you 
 sorry for your wickedness last night? I will 
 forgive you. Are you ready to come forth?" 
 
 But no answer came from the closed room. 
 Finally he walked away with growing anger 
 and the resolution to make her pay for her 
 foolish stubbornness. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 A Gleam of Hope. 
 
 CHANG TAB YOUNG had come at 
 last to realize the power of the opium 
 fiend over him and his consequent dan- 
 ger. When first he had used the treacherous 
 drug, it was with the certain knowledge that 
 he could stop at any time he wished. Later he 
 thought less about stopping and more about 
 the enjoyment of the smoking, until finally, 
 with great fear, the truth flashed across his 
 mind that he could not quit the opium, though 
 it was sapping his very life. His will was no 
 longer his own ; he was a slave, a slave bound 
 hand and foot. 
 
 His mind was now keenly alive to his dan- 
 ger, as he was using large amounts of the stuff 
 and knew that his life would pay the penalty 
 if he did not stop the smoking. 
 
 When he thought of Pokjumie it was with 
 
 torturing remorse. Perhaps, after all, he 
 
 (8q) 
 
90 POKJUMIE. 
 
 might have found her had he continued his 
 search; but instead he had lain on his satin 
 couch and dreamed poppy dreams, while she 
 — O God^ where was she ? 
 
 Su Chunie, coming a little later to bring his 
 master's breakfast, found him pacing wildly 
 up and down his room. "I am no longer a 
 man," he wailed in despair. ''I am a slave — 
 a slave ! I cannot do as I would. O, fool that 
 I was to touch the accursed stuff!" 
 
 The faithful servant stood in a sorrowful at- 
 titude, with bowed head, listening to these 
 words and thinking how he might help his 
 master. He knew that his master's strong 
 point was his sense of honor in relation to his 
 ancestors, as becomes one of the followers of 
 Confucius. If he could only get his master to 
 make a vow the breaking of which would dis- 
 grace his ancestors, he might overcome the 
 dreadful habit. "Master," he cried, "if you 
 smoke another pipe of opium, you are the son 
 of a dog." 
 
 Chang turned angry, burning eyes on the 
 
A GLEAM OF HOPE. 91 
 
 man, and then over him flashed the thought of 
 a possible release by vow. "Yes, yes ; you are 
 right," he answered. "If I smoke any more, I 
 am the son of a dog." Then slowly, deliber- 
 ately, and with great solemnity he repeated : "I 
 am the son of a dog." 
 
 "Come, now," said he to Su Chunie, "let us 
 go to the tablet house, and before my father's 
 tablet and the tablets of my ancestors I will 
 make this vow." 
 
 Sacrificial food was brought and placed be- 
 fore the tablets, and the ancestors were hon- 
 ored by worship. Taking a brush and dipping 
 it into the ink which the servant prepared, he 
 wrote on the white walls of the room: "If I 
 smoke opium again, I am the son of a dog." 
 Then he continued: "I cannot, I will not dis- 
 grace my ancestors." This he said slowly and 
 thoughtfully as he retraced his way with fail- 
 ing strength down the hill to his sarang. 
 
 Then commenced the long, fierce battle. The 
 bitterness of death laid hold on him. Death 
 would have been relief from this gnawing pain 
 
92 
 
 POKJUMIE. 
 
 and anguish. For hours the fight continued. 
 He felt that he was losing his mind, and the 
 unsatisfied craving and desire which filled his 
 whole being cried out for one thing — yea, he 
 would give life itself to have one pipe. The 
 fierce torture of his soul called for action. He 
 could not sit quietly; he could not enter the 
 house. Wildly he walked up and down under 
 the willows in front of the sarang. Having 
 stood it as long as human strength was able, he 
 turned his faltering steps toward the sarang 
 and entered the room. His wild eyes had al- 
 most lost the light of reason and, blood red, 
 the balls seemed bursting from their sockets. 
 His hands clutched wildly in the direction of 
 the little table which held the precious burden 
 of opium. But while his eyes were held by the 
 sight of the opiate, and his hands were reach- 
 ing to grasp it, his will would not yield. He 
 took a step backward and cast a glance over his 
 shoulder toward the little house which held the 
 tablets of his ancestors. With a cry of agony 
 he turned and fled from the room, and, throw- 
 
A GLEAM OF HOPE. 93 
 
 ing himself full length under the trees, deep 
 into the soft earth he dug his long, yellow fin- 
 gers, and bit and tore the grass in his mouth. 
 His whole body seemed burning up with pain, 
 and his mind was crazed for one whiff of pop- 
 py smoke. Between cries of anguish he 
 growled and snarled like a wild animal. Alas ! 
 it was too late to cure himself of the habit 
 which was his master. No human will could 
 now, without the aid of drugs, conquer this 
 controlling fiend. If the opiate were removed 
 from him at once just at this crisis, no doubt 
 his life or reason would pay the penalty. 
 
 There among the high grasses he writhed 
 like a tortured animal for long hours, each of 
 which was like an age. Finally, when the 
 strong will of the man, who had been a man in- 
 deed, was entirely broken, he struggled to his 
 feet and, staggering from side to side, falling 
 every few steps, reached the veranda at last, 
 and a cry of joy broke from his lips at the 
 sight of the little table beyond the door. The 
 last bit of his strength was spent when he 
 
94 
 
 POKJUMIE. 
 
 reached the table. Trembling and sobbing, he 
 fell down beside it. With hands that shook 
 so that he could not make them do his bidding 
 he strove to prepare the pipe, stopping many 
 times during the simple operation to rest, while 
 incoherent, senseless jabberings fell from his 
 lips. 
 
 Leaning back, taking deep draughts of the 
 pipe, he forgot his recent fight. Rest, peace, 
 joy filled his heart. "Ah, how sweet! What 
 a fool to try to live without it !" 
 
 Thus slowly, surely he was wafted to lands 
 Elysian. 
 
 Su Chunie was greatly distressed at his mas- 
 ter's failure. However, the next morning 
 there was a new gleam of hope in his face as 
 he ushered a friend of Chang Tab Young's 
 into his apartment soon after he waked up. 
 
 The sorrow and sense of defeat were weigh- 
 ing upon Chang's heart, and the lack of the 
 drug was beginning again its ravishing tor- 
 ments. Greeting the old-time comrade of his 
 
A GLEAM OF HOPE, 95 
 
 boyhood, and looking up into the kind, sympa- 
 thetic face, he burst into tears and sobs, unbe- 
 coming, as he thought, in a man. 
 
 After an hour of quiet talk and words of 
 comfort, the newcomer said: "Now I under- 
 stand your trouble fully, and I know just how 
 you feel. I myself was once in the remorseless 
 grip of the opium fiend." 
 
 "You, my friend? But now — are you now? 
 Do you still use it ? You don't look it. How 
 did you break it ?" 
 
 Thus the questions poured out in a torrent, 
 and the same light that had shone in Su Chu- 
 nie's face now lighted the dim eyes of Chang as 
 he grasped his friend's hand. 
 
 "Yes, listen; I will tell you all. A few 
 months ago I was as bad as you. I know it 
 all. I will make a short story of it. Well, I 
 heard of a wonderful doctor in Songdo who 
 could cure me. I went to him, and I am a well 
 man and my own master to-day. After com- 
 ing home some one told me that you were in 
 the hands of the same fiend, and I have come 
 
96 POKJUMIE, 
 
 purposely to tell you of this doctor and what he 
 did for me. I believe he can do the same for 
 you." 
 
 Chang had risen to his feet, and now stood 
 trembling with eager expectation, questioning 
 his friend. 
 
 Before many hours Chang Tab Young and 
 his retinue of servants were on their way to 
 the city beyond the mountains, and in the 
 bosom of the sufferer were burning the fires of 
 a new hope. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 The Doctor. 
 
 EVERY morning and evening for three 
 days Na the Cruel had gone to Pok- 
 jumie's door and made the same in- 
 quiry, receiving always the same silence in re- 
 sponse. Losing patience at last, he sent one of 
 the slave women to open the door and to inves- 
 tigate. 
 
 The old woman unlocked the door, slipped 
 back the bolts, and cautiously peered in through 
 a tiny crack ; then, with an exclamation of sur- 
 prise, she threw the door wide open and rushed 
 into the room. "Poor little thing!" she cried, 
 and, kneeling, raised Pokjumie's head from 
 the rough stone floor into her lap. 
 
 The prisoner's breath came in choking gasps, 
 the face was hot and flushed, and in the wide 
 brown eyes there was no sign of reason or 
 light of knowledge. She was indeed very ill. 
 The dampness of the room and the lack of 
 ^ (97) 
 
98 POKJUMIE. 
 
 nourishment had brought on a severe attack of 
 pneumonia. For the time being she was out 
 of the clutches of the monster Na. 
 
 The slave made a hurried report to the mas- 
 ter. He had not meant to carry things this 
 far, and was disappointed that she had so easi- 
 ly slipped away from him and that he must 
 hunt new diversions. He ordered the woman 
 to take the sick girl to her own room and care 
 for her there until she was well. 
 
 It is a noticeable fact that those who gloat 
 in cruelty over helpless ones in their power are 
 always base cowards in their own lives. Na 
 Sung Mung was no exception to this rule. He 
 was a great coward. The unseen powers of 
 darkness held sway over his mind, and he 
 trembled at the bare mention of tokgobies 
 (hobgoblins) and quesin (demons). Though 
 not an ignorant man, he had all the supersti- 
 tions of the ignorant lower classes. Perhaps it 
 was his guilty conscience bearing witness to 
 his many dark deeds that gave him such a 
 sense of uneasiness. Great were his fear and 
 
THE DOCTOR. 
 
 99 
 
 • distress when the slave woman in charge of 
 Pokjumie came to him several days later and 
 informed him that the girl was dying. 
 
 "Dying? Not possible! Surely you are 
 mistaken! But if she is, she must not die on 
 my premises. Who can tell what personal and 
 financial ruin might be brought upon me by the 
 evil spirits if I were to allow this stranger to 
 die within my gates? But you are too easily 
 frightened, old woman. Come; I will see for 
 myself." 
 
 One glance at the fever-racked frame told 
 him that the woman was right, and this was 
 confirmed by the irregular, difficult breathing. 
 To increase his uneasiness, her incoherent 
 utterances resolved themselves into these, to 
 him, fearful words: "O Jesus of the Chris- 
 tians' Bible, save me, I beseech thee! I will 
 trust thee ! Save me, Jesus !" 
 
 As he stood outside the door of the tiny 
 room, fear and consternation written all over 
 his face, a little servant girl ran up, out of 
 
100 POKJUMIE. 
 
 breath and with the appearance of having a 
 communication of importance to make. 
 
 "Master, master, the great foreign doctor 
 from the city is passing through the village. 
 He is said to have miracle-working power. 
 Perhaps he could heal this woman.'* 
 
 The suggestion was taken eagerly and sev- 
 eral messengers were sent, in the name of 
 their powerful master, to implore the wonder- 
 ful doctor to come and heal the sick. 
 
 After about an hour the servants returned, 
 and with them came the physician, a young, 
 almost boyish-looking foreigner. He was very 
 tall and as straight as an Indian. His clean- 
 shaven face was kindly and gentle and at the 
 same time strong. The clear steel-gray eyes 
 were piercingly bright, and as he examined his 
 patient his questions were put in a firm, busi- 
 nesslike tone of authority which commanded 
 respect and filled the bystanders with a sense of 
 his importance and ability. Finally he raised 
 himself from the kneeling position beside the 
 sick girl, who lay on the stone floor, and, shak- 
 
THE DOCTOR. iqi 
 
 ing his head sadly, addressed Na, who stood 
 outside looking in at the door : "She is very ill. 
 I fear that I can do but little for her. This 
 sickness would demand constant attention from 
 me and careful nursing by one who under- 
 stood its symptoms." 
 
 The doctor stood looking down at the young 
 sufferer, and his heart was filled with pity. He 
 could not get used to these scenes of suffer- 
 ing, although he saw them daily. The squalid, 
 dingy surroundings served but to throw into 
 contrast the delicate beauty of the girl; for she 
 was still wondrously attractive as she lay with 
 her flushed face framed in the ebony hair. 
 
 'T wish that I might help her," thought the 
 doctor to himself; "for, if I mistake not, there 
 is some story of cruelty behind all this." Then, 
 as if by inspiration, came the thought which he 
 voiced : "Now, if I only had her in Songdo, in 
 my hospital there, I could care for her. But 
 that is a long journey," he added doubtfully. 
 
 But Na had grasped at the suggestion as a 
 drowning man at a straw. "If I can only get 
 
102 POKJUMIE. 
 
 rid of the dying creature," he thought, "what a 
 rehef ! And the consequent wrath of the evil 
 spirits will be upon the foreigner." Then he 
 spoke aloud : "Yes, yes, great doctor ! That is 
 a noble plan, and I will pay you big money to 
 heal her. Here we have chairs, coolies, and 
 many servants. She could be easily carried to 
 the city." 
 
 After some hesitation, the doctor decided to 
 take her. "For," thought he, "she is sure to 
 die if left to the care of that ignorant, incom- 
 petent old woman. It is a hard trip, but I have 
 one chance in a hundred to pull her through. I 
 fear there is an abscess in that left side. Evi- 
 dently it would be a mercy to take her away. I 
 believe there is a pitiful story here." 
 
 Arrangements were soon made, and that 
 evening, on its march to the city, there were 
 added to the doctor's little procession two cool- 
 ies carrying an improvised stretcher. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 The House of Healing. 
 
 PATIENT effort and tireless watching on 
 the part of doctor and nurse were prov- 
 ing the value of modern science in sav- 
 ing a human life. They believed that at last 
 the crisis was past, and that there was room to 
 hope for the complete recovery of Pokjumie. 
 She lay now on the spotless white bed in a 
 bright, airy room of the big hospital. The 
 cheery little Korean nurse moved to and fro 
 with noiseless step, putting things "to rights" 
 for the day, and, turning, found the large, 
 bright eyes of her patient fixed on her. For 
 the first time she looked rational. There was 
 no fear in the eyes' brown depths, only won- 
 der and surprise, as she met the reassuring 
 smile on the kind nurse's face and asked in a 
 low, weak voice : "Did Jesus of the Christians' 
 Bible hear my prayer ?'* 
 
 The little nurse did not know her story ; but 
 
 (103) 
 
104 POKJUMIE. 
 
 she had unbounded faith in her Saviour, and so 
 she felt that she was telHng the truth as she 
 softly patted the shining braids and answered : 
 "Yes, I am sure he did if you prayed to him; 
 he always does." 
 
 Turning over on her side, the patient mur- 
 mured softly: ''Se tin how. Se un how. [I 
 have a cool breeze blowing on the inside.] I 
 am so comfortable and peaceful." Then she 
 quietly fell asleep. 
 
 Each day found the patient some stronger 
 and showing more interest in her surroundings 
 and in the "Jesus doctrine." 
 
 By the time the November winds had 
 brought the brown leaves from the trees she 
 was able to sit up, though still very weak and 
 white. 
 
 One morning, as she sat by the window in 
 her comfortable room, she heard the soft notes 
 of a hymn floating upward from the hall below, 
 where the nurses and the convalescent patients 
 
THE HOUSE OF HEALING, 105 
 
 were having morning prayers. She listened 
 eagerly to the sweet words : 
 
 All the way my Saviour leads me. 
 What have I to ask beside? 
 
 She strained every nerve to hear, but no other 
 words save the repeated couplet at the end of 
 each verse came to her ears : 
 
 For I know, whate'er befalls me, 
 Jesus doeth all things well. 
 
 Over and over she repeated the words, slow- 
 ly and thoughtfully; and then, with a face 
 aflame with light and joy, she exclaimed: 
 *'How beautiful to know that Jesus cares ! And 
 I know that 'Jesus doeth all things well.* '' 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 When Dreams Come True. 
 
 CHANG TAB YOUNG felt that again 
 he was a man. The first weeks of 
 treatment at the hospital had been full 
 of keenest suffering, but such as could be borne ; 
 for he had learned to lean upon One whose 
 strength was greater than human weakness. 
 Gradually and painfully but surely the opium 
 fiend that had conquered him had in turn been 
 conquered. 
 
 To-day, as he sat in the anteroom of the 
 doctor's office, his heart was full of thanksgiv- 
 ing; for he was grateful for all that had been 
 done for him. He had been in the office and 
 the doctor had dismissed him, telling him that 
 he might return to his home as soon as he de- 
 sired. But still he lingered in the waiting 
 room, listening to the eager words of the old 
 class leader as he talked to the newcomers 
 (io6) 
 
WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE. 107 
 
 about the Father's love. At the thought of go- 
 ing back to his home the heart of the dismissed 
 patient, however, was strangely disconsolate. 
 How could he go alone? His face buried in 
 his hands, he sat musing on the deserted home- 
 stead. 
 
 The kind old class leader^ seeing his evi- 
 dent distress, touched him gently on the shoul- 
 der and said: **Come, my friend; let us walk 
 out under the trees. The grove and lawn are 
 very beautiful now in their autumn dress." 
 
 The hospital was situated in the midst of a 
 large chestnut grove, and together the two men 
 walked in silence to the top of the hill behind 
 the building. There they halted and looked 
 across the rich valley stretching out below 
 them. Here and yonder were men cutting the 
 long, dead grass and piling it high on the jig- 
 gies by their sides for winter fuel. Down in 
 the valley the ever-present washerwomen were 
 beating their linen by the stream of water, and 
 the thud and "tat-tat'' of their paddles came 
 
io8 POKJUMIE. 
 
 distinctly to the ears of the men. Far away be- 
 yond the valley rose the North Mountain, deep 
 blue in the hazy light of late afternoon. 
 
 The class leader, a tender-hearted, kindly old 
 soul, was by some called meddlesome ; but real- 
 ly his great interest in the affairs of others 
 grew out of a loving desire to help them. He 
 could not bear to see another unhappy if he 
 could possibly set things straight. He did not 
 know Chang's story, and ignorantly stumbled 
 on the very thing to pierce the already aching 
 heart. 
 
 "Chang Su Bang [Mr. Chang], you look 
 very unhappy and burdened. I am sure that 
 you have some great trouble ; but our trials are 
 never so bad but that they might be worse. 
 Now, for instance, I am sure your griefs could 
 not be so bad as those of a woman I heard 
 about last night. She had been run away from 
 her home by a mean, angry husband. She had 
 then been sold to a drunken wretch whose 
 cruel treatment resulted in a severe sickness. 
 Somehow under Providence she was brought 
 
WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE. 109 
 
 to this hospital. O, she had reason to be very 
 sad! Yet she has found deep peace and even 
 joy in the love of the Saviour." 
 
 During this recital of another's woes Chang 
 had sat down on a large, flat stone. He was 
 deeply touched and his heart was filled with 
 painful memories ; but, after all, this was such 
 a common occurrence in Korea that he never 
 dreamed that he was listening to his own story. 
 His wistful eyes were filled with longing and 
 remorse. It did not occur to him that for many 
 days Pokjumie had been under the same roof 
 that had sheltered him. 
 
 The old man by his side continued in his 
 droning voice : "So it has come about that this 
 girl wants to be a nurse and stay in the hospital. 
 You, too, will find more comfort if you think 
 less of your own trouble and try to help oth- 
 ers. 
 
 Chang was one of the old class leader's con- 
 verts, and he felt that he had the right to in- 
 struct and admonish him ; and so he continued, 
 not heeding the pain in the other's face: "If 
 
no POKJUMIE. 
 
 this little girl can think of others, a big, strong 
 man like you can certainly forget himself. 
 Why, that girl is so young and tiny that they 
 still call her by the pet baby name she had in 
 her father's house before she was married. 
 They have never dropped her baby name," he 
 repeated musingly, "and they still call her Pok- 
 jumie.'' 
 
 "Pokjumie?" shrieked Chang, staggering to 
 his feet. "Pokjumie? Then, by heaven, man, 
 that's my wife!" Without another word he 
 turned and rushed madly down the hill. 
 
 The old man, panting and breathless, caught 
 up with him as Chang was fumbling with the 
 door latch. "Stop, man! Where are you go- 
 ing?" the old man panted. "Don't you know 
 it would be highly improper for a man to enter 
 the women's department? You wait. The 
 doctor will have the nurse to tell your wife, 
 and she will meet you in the reception room. 
 Wait there for her." 
 
 Chang grasped his sleeve as he passed him, 
 and with unsteady voice said : "Please have 
 
WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE. 1 1 1 
 
 them tell her that I was very sorry for my 
 haste and cruelty, and searched the whole coun- 
 tryside for many weeks. Then I gave it up as 
 hopeless. I implore her forgiveness." 
 
 Pokjumie stood by the window looking out 
 at the soft blue folds of the Dragon Ridge as 
 it mounted higher and higher and then melted 
 into the deep violet of the mountains. Her 
 eyes had in them a far-away look. She did 
 not see the beauty of the scene spread before 
 her, for she was thinking of the past — yes, and 
 of the future. She returned to the present with 
 a start as the nurse opened the door and quietly 
 entered. 
 
 ''Sit down, Pokjumie. I have some words 
 to make to you." 
 
 The girl sank into a chair and listened list- 
 lessly. '[Mai has e o" (Say on), she replied, 
 without noticing the eager interest in the man- 
 ner of the other. 
 
 "Pokjumie, would you like to see your hus- 
 band again ?" the nurse asked gently. 
 
112 POKJUMIE. 
 
 '*0, has he come?'' she cried. "I knew that 
 he would come, for I have been praying that he 
 would." She had risen in her eagerness, all the 
 lassitude gone now and her eyes shining with 
 their old-time brilliancy. 
 
 "Your prayer has been answered. He is 
 here, and is waiting for you in the reception 
 room. He says to ask your forgiveness for his 
 cruelty; that he was very sorry and searched 
 for you many weeks before he gave it up." 
 
 "I knew it!" she cried, and fell upon her 
 knees to give thanks to her Heavenly Father. 
 
 The two women mingled their tears and 
 prayers in joyful thanksgiving. At last they 
 arose with radiant faces. 
 
 Womanlike, Pokjumie thought of her ruf- 
 fled hair and flushed face. She would not go 
 down to meet her lord without looking her 
 best. So hastily and with shaking hands she 
 put on the new dress given her by the friends 
 at the hospital — a simple, plain gown of cotton, 
 very different from those she had worn in her 
 old home, but one which made the delicate, 
 
WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE, 113 
 
 aristocratic lines of her face more noticeable. 
 The mantle of sadness which she had worn so 
 long had dropped from her, and as she stood 
 ready to descend the stairs she was a joyous, 
 eager girl, her heart filled with loving antici- 
 pation. 
 
 "She doesn't look old enough to have eaten 
 eighteen rice cakes,"^ smiled the little nurse to 
 herself as she conducted her former patient in 
 the direction of the reception room. 
 
 AH this time the impatient Chang Tab 
 Young had been waiting in restless suspense. 
 His heart was still filled with fears and anxiety 
 as he paced restlessly to and fro like a caged 
 tiger. "x\fter all, this may not be Pokju- 
 mie," he muttered hoarsely. "Why didn't I 
 ask some sensible questions? I acted like a 
 crazy person." 
 
 So for what seemed an age, though really 
 
 'The number of New Year's rice cakes measures one's 
 age. To have eaten eighteen rice cakes means that she 
 was eighteen years old. The question to a child, "How 
 old are you?" would be literally, "How many rice cakes 
 have you eaten ?" 
 8 
 
1 14 POKJUMIE. 
 
 not more than an hour, he walked the floor, 
 perplexed, uncertain, and tormented by the pos- 
 sibility that, after all, he had not found the 
 one he sought. At length he heard the soft 
 patter of feet, the swish of a woman's skirt, 
 and he stood with clenched hands and quick 
 breath awaiting the opening of the door. 
 
 The knob was turned slowly and with much 
 hesitation; and then, framed in the doorway, 
 he saw the bright face of his beloved. Her 
 soft, love-lit eyes were filled with happy tears. 
 Beautiful she was and as proud as a queen. 
 She took one step toward him and held out her 
 arms, while a smile of infinite tenderness played 
 about her lips. 
 
 'Tokjumie!" he cried, bounding forward. 
 "It is Pokjumie! My Pokjumie!" 
 
 The sorrowful past, with its suffering and 
 woe, was almost forgotten in the rapturous 
 present, and the sweetness of the hour was 
 made the sweeter by those faint memories of 
 the bitter past. 
 
 There were many explanations made. Both 
 
WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE. 1 15 
 
 told their stories of the past months. Then at 
 last the wife lifted her head from her hus- 
 band's breast and, looking up Into his beaming 
 face, exclaimed : "Best of all it is to know that 
 7esus docth all things well.' " 
 
EC 15 ISll 
 
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 1911 
 
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