ffair, with its paper walls,
tiger-skin rugs upon the stone floor, and the softest of mats and silk
and wadded cotton coverings for his couch.
This couch, by the way, was another queer affair. It was built of brick!
Beneath it were pipes or flues connected with other pipes which ran
beneath the whole house. Through these flues were forced currents of hot
air from a blaze in a large fireplace at one end of the house. The
chimney was at the other end, and thus a draught of hot air constantly
passed beneath the floors in cold weather. On warm nights Yung Pak would
pile his mats upon the floor and sleep as comfortably as ever you did
on the softest feather bed your grandmother could make.
The windows of Ki Pak's house were not made of glass, but were small
square frames covered with oiled paper. These frames fitted into grooves
so that they could be slid back and forth, and in warm weather the
windows were always left open. The doors were made of wood, though in
many houses paper or plaited bamboo was used.
When Yung Pak ate his meals, he sat upon a rug on the floor with his
father and such male guests as might be in the house. The women never
ate with them. Their meals were served in their own rooms.
A servant would bring to each person a _sang_, or small low table.
Instead of a cloth, on each table was a sheet of fine glazed paper which
had the appearance of oiled silk. This paper was made from the bark of
the mulberry-tree. It was soft and pliable, and of such a texture that
it could be washed easier than anything else, either paper or cloth. On
this were placed dishes of porcelain and earthen ware. There were no
knives or forks, but in their place were chop-sticks such as the Chinese
used. Spoons also were on the table. A tall and long-spouted teapot was
always the finest piece of ware.
On the dining-tables of the poorer people of Korea the teapot was never
seen, for, strange as it may seem, in this land situated between the two
greatest tea-producing countries of the world, tea is not in common use.
All Koreans have splendid appetites, and probably if you should see Yung
Pak eating his dinner you would criticize his table manners. He not only
ate a large amount of food, but ate it very rapidly--almost as if he
feared that some one might steal his dinner before he could dispose of
it. And you would think that he never expected to get another square
meal!
But it was not Yung Pak's fault that he was such a l
|