SOME QUEER THINGS

Yung Pak was the very queer name of a queer little boy who lived in a queer house in a queer city.  This boy was peculiar in his looks, his talk was in a strange tongue, his clothes were odd in colour and fit, his shoes were unlike ours, and everything about him would seem to you very unusual in appearance.  But the most wonderful thing of all was that he did not think he was a bit queer, and if he should see one of you in your home, or at school, or at play, he would open wide his slant eyes with wonder at your peculiar ways and dress.  The name of the country in which this little boy lived is Korea.

One thing about Yung Pak, though, was just like little boys everywhere.  When he first came to his home in the Korean city, a little bit of a baby, his father and mother were very, very glad to see him.  Your father and mother gave you no warmer welcome than the parents of this little Korean baby gave to him.

Perhaps Yung Pak’s father did not say much, but any one could have seen by his face that he was tremendously pleased.  He was a very dignified man, and his manner was nearly always calm, no matter how stirred up he might have felt in his mind.  This was one of the rare occasions when his face expanded into a smile, and he immediately made a generous offering of rice to the household tablets.

All Koreans pay great honour to their dead parents, and tablets to their memory are placed in some room set apart for the purpose.  Before these tablets sacrifices are offered.  Yung Pak’s father would have been almost overwhelmed with terror at thought of having no one to worship his memory and present offerings before his tablet.

It is to be feared that if, instead of Yung Pak, a little daughter had come to this Korean house, the father and the mother would not have been so pleased.  For, strange as it may seem to you who live in homes where little daughters and little sisters are petted and loved above all the rest of the family, in Korea little girls do not receive a warm welcome, though the mothers will cherish and fondle them—­as much from pity as from love.  The mothers know better than any one else how hard a way the little girl will have to travel through life.

But it is Yung Pak we want to tell you about.

As his father was a wealthy man, all the comforts and luxuries which could be given to a Korean baby were showered on this tiny boy.

One of the queer things, though, was that he had no little cradle in which he might be rocked to sleep.  And you know that all babies, especially little babies, sleep a great deal.  So how do you suppose Yung Pak’s mother used to put him to sleep in this land where cradles were unknown?  She put him on the bed and patted him lightly on the stomach.  This she called to-tak, to-tak.