and stranger the individual farmer is supremely and surprisingly hospitable. A foreigner discussing the peculiarities of their scenery, their lands, and the general details of their life with them, is struck by their profound reverence for everything beyond their own understanding, and their amazing sense of the beautiful in nature. The simplicity of their appreciation is delightful. It is easy to believe that they are more susceptible to the charms of flowers and scenery than to that of woman.
At rare intervals the farmer indulges in a diversion. Succumbing to the seductions of market day, after the fashion of every other farmer the world has ever known, he returns to the homestead a physical and moral wreck, the drunk and disorderly residuum of many months of dreary abstinence and respectability. At these times he develops a phase of unexpected assertiveness, and forcibly abducts some neighbouring beauty, or beats in the head of a friend by way of enforcing his argument. From every possible point of view he reveals qualities which proclaim him the simple, if not ideal, child of nature.
During the many months of my stay in Korea I spent some days at a wayside farmhouse, the sole accommodation which could be obtained in a mountain village. The slight insight into the mode of life of the farming peasant which was thus gained was replete with interest, charm and novelty. Knowing something of the vicissitudes of farm life, I found the daily work of this small community supremely instructive. Upon many occasions I watched the farmer's family and his neighbours at their work. The implements of these people are rude and few, consisting of a plough, with a movable iron shoe which turns the sods in the reverse direction to our own; a spade, furnished with
