nd with the exception of the
ceiling, that must have been pretty at one time with native patterns and
yellow, red and green ornaments, there is absolutely nothing else worth
noticing. Outside, the three parallel flights of steps leading up to the
audience hall have a curious feature. It is forbidden to any one but the
King to go up on the middle steps, and he of course is invariably
carried; for which reason, in the middle part of the centre staircase a
carved stone table is laid over the steps in such a way that no one can
tread on them except quite at the sides where the men who carry the King
have to walk.

The houses where the King and royal family used to live with their
household have now been nearly all destroyed by the weather and damp, and
many of the roofs have fallen in. They were very simple, only one story
high, and little better than the habitations of the better classes of
people in Cho-sen. Coming out again of the inner enclosure, one finds
stables and other houses scattered here and there in the _compound_,[3]
and lower down we come to a big drain of masonry. But let me tell you a
funny story.

As you know, the Land of the Morning Calm is often troubled at night by
prowling leopards and huge tigers which make their peregrinations through
the town in search of food. A big leopard was thus seen by the natives
one fine day taking a constitutional in the grounds of this haunted
palace. Perplexed and even terrified, the unarmed natives ran for their
lives, except one who, from a distant point of vantage, watched the
animal and saw him enter the drain just mentioned. There happened to be
staying in Seoul an Englishman, a Mr. S., who possessed a rifle and who
had often astonished the natives by his skill in never missing the bull's
eye; so to him they all went in a deputation, begging him to do away with
the four-legged, unwelcome visitor. Mr. S., who wished for nothing
better, promised that he would go that same night, and, accompanied by
his faithful native servant, went and hid himself in proximity to the
hole whence the leopard was likely to spring. It was a lovely moonlight
night, and several hours had been passed in perfect silence and vain
waiting for the chance of a shot, when a bright idea struck the native
servant. Certain that the leopard was no longer there, and wishing to
retire to his warm room, he addressed his master in poetic terms somewhat
as follows:--

"Sir, I am a brave man, and fear ne