Our Little Korean Cousin Part 2

"The crown prince," was Kim Yong's reply.

"He attends his royal father in all these ceremonies of state."

Yung Pak drew a long breath, but said nothing. He only thought what a fine thing it must be to be a king's son, and wear such gorgeous clothes, and have so many servants at his call.

And then he had a second thought. He would not want to exchange his splendid father for all the glory and magnificence of the king's court.

After the king and the crown prince, with their attendant officials and servants and priests, had gone into the temple, Yung Pak and Kim Yong did not stay longer at their post. The order of the procession had broken, and the king and his immediate retinue would return privately to the palace after he should pay homage and offer sacrifice to the spirits of his ancestors.

CHAPTER IV.

YUNG PAK AT SCHOOL

Little Korean boys have to go to school, just as you do, though they do not study in just the same way. You would be surprised if you were to step into a Korean schoolroom. All the boys sit upon the floor with their legs curled up beneath them. Instead of the quiet, silent scholars, you would hear a loud and deafening buzz. All the pupils study out loud. They not only do their studying aloud, but they talk very loud, as if each one were trying to make more noise than his neighbour.

The Koreans call this noise _kang-siong_, and it seems almost deafening to one unused to it. You would think the poor teacher would be driven crazy, but he seems as calm as a daisy in a June breeze.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "ALL THE BOYS SIT UPON THE FLOOR"]

The Korean boys have to have "tests" and examinations just as you do.

When a lad has a good lesson, the teacher makes a big red mark on his paper, and he carries it home with the greatest pride,--just as you do when you take home a school paper marked "100."

But Yung Pak was not allowed to share the pleasures and the trials of the boys in the public school.

One day, soon after he was six years old, his father sent for him to come to his private room,--perhaps you would call it a study or library.

With Yung Pak's father was a strange gentleman, a young man with a pleasant face and an air of good breeding.

"This," said Ki Pak to his son as he entered the room, "is w.a.n.g Ken. I have engaged him to be your teacher, or tutor. The time has come for you to begin to learn to read and to cipher and to study the history and geography of our country."

Yung Pak made a very low bow, for all Korean boys are early taught to be courteous, especially to parents, teachers, and officials.

In this case he was very glad to show respect to his new tutor, for he liked his appearance and felt sure that they would get on famously together. More than that, though he liked to play as well as any boy, he was not sorry that he was going to begin to learn something. Even at his age he had ambitions, and expected that sometime he would, like his father, serve the king in some office.

w.a.n.g Ken was equally well pleased with the looks of the bright boy who was to be his pupil, and told Yung Pak's father that he believed there need be no fear but what they would get on well together, and that the boy would prove a bright scholar.

To w.a.n.g Ken and his pupil were a.s.signed a room near Ki Pak's library, where Yung Pak would spend several hours each day trying his best to learn the Korean A B C's.

The first book he had to study was called "The Thousand Character Cla.s.sic." This was the first book that all Korean boys had to study, and was said to have been written by a very wise man hundreds of years ago.

A strange thing about it was that it was composed during one night, and so great was the wise man's struggle that his hair and beard turned white during that night. When Yung Pak was told this fact he was not a bit surprised. He thought it was hard enough to have to learn what was in the book, to say nothing of writing it in the beginning.

At the same time that Yung Pak was learning to read, he was also learning to write. But you would have been amused if you could have seen his efforts. The strangest thing about it was that he did not use a pen, but had a coa.r.s.e brush on a long handle. Into the ink he would dip this brush and then make broad marks on sheets of coa.r.s.e paper. You would not be able to understand those marks at all. They looked like the daubs of a sign-painter gone crazy.

Later on, Yung Pak had to study the history and geography of his country. Some of the names he had to learn would amuse you very much.

The name of the province of Haan-kiung, for instance, meant Perfect Mirror, or Complete View Province. Kiung-sang was the Korean name for Respectful Congratulation Province, and Chung-chong meant Serene Loyalty Province. One part of Korea, where the inhabitants were always peaceable and unwarlike, was called Peace and Quiet Province, or, in the Korean language, Ping-an.

Under w.a.n.g Ken's instruction Yung Pak made rapid progress in his studies, and when the boy's father questioned him from time to time as to what he had learned, he was very much pleased, and commended his son for his close attention to his studies.

"Sometime," Ki Pak said to the boy, "if you continue to make such good progress in your studies, you will be able to hold a high position in the service of the king."

In explanation of this remark, you should understand that no young man was able to enter into the government service of Korea until he could pa.s.s a very hard examination in many studies.

Many things besides book-learning did w.a.n.g Ken teach his pupil. In all the rules of Korean etiquette he was carefully and persistently drilled.

As you have already been told, Yung Pak had from his earliest days been taught the deepest reverence and honour for his father. This kind of instruction was continued from day to day. He was told that a son must not play in his father's presence, nor a.s.sume free or easy posture before him. He must often wait upon his father at meal-times, and prepare his bed for him. If the father is old or sickly, the son sleeps near him by night, and does not leave his presence by day. If for any reason the father is cast into prison, the son makes his home near by in order that he may provide such comforts for his unfortunate parent as the prison officials will allow.

If, by chance, the father should be banished from the country for his misdeeds, the son must accompany him at least to the borders of his native land, and in some instances must go with him into exile.

When the son meets his father in the street, he must drop to his knees and make a profound salute, no matter what the state of the roadway. In all letters which the son writes to his father he uses the most exalted t.i.tles and honourable phrases he can imagine.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HE MUST DROP TO HIS KNEES AND MAKE A PROFOUND SALUTE]

CHAPTER V.

A LESSON IN HISTORY

As you already know, Yung Pak's father intended that his son, when he grew up, should fill a position in the service of the king. To fit him for this work, it was important that the boy should learn all that he could of his country's history.

On this account Yung Pak's tutor had orders to give to the lad each day, during the hours devoted to study, some account of events in the rise and progress of the Korean nation or of its royal families.

You must know that Korea is a very old country, its history dating back hundreds of years before America was discovered by Christopher Columbus.

Now w.a.n.g Ken knew that dry history had very few attractions for his young pupil, or any lively boy for that matter, so as far as possible he avoided the repet.i.tion of dates and uninteresting events, and often gave to Yung Pak much useful information in story form.

One day, when the time came for the usual history lesson, w.a.n.g Ken said to Yung Pak:

"I think that to-day I will tell you the story of King Taijo."

At this Yung Pak's eyes sparkled, and he was all attention in a moment.

He thought one of w.a.n.g Ken's stories was a great deal better than puzzling over Korean letters or struggling with long strings of figures.

The tutor went on:

"When Taijo was born, many, many years ago, our country was not called Korea, but had been given the name of Cho-sen."

Yung Pak had been told that Cho-sen meant Morning Calm, so he asked w.a.n.g Ken how it came about that such a peaceful name had been given to his country.

"Why," said w.a.n.g Ken, "the name was given to our land years and years ago by the leader of some Chinese settlers, whose name was Ki Tsze. In his native land there had been much violence and war, so with his friends and followers he moved to the eastward and selected this country for his home. Here he hoped to be free from the attacks of enemies and to be able to live a peaceful life. For this reason he chose a name which well expressed its outward position--toward the rising sun--and his own inward feelings,--Cho-sen, or Morning Calm. This is still the official name of our country.

"But to come back to our story of Taijo. At the time of his birth, the rulers of the country were very unpopular because of their wickedness and oppression of the people. There was much suffering on account of the misrule, and the people longed for a deliverer who should restore prosperity to Cho-sen.

"Such a deliverer appeared in the person of Taijo. It is said that even as a boy he surpa.s.sed his fellows in goodness, intelligence, and skill in all sorts of boyish games."