s hid him from the view of the curious crowd, and over the
top was a canopy of the same description, ornamented with heavy, rich
tassels.

This gorgeous chair was much heavier than those used by officials and
ordinary citizens, and it took thirty-two men to carry it quickly and
safely past the throng to the entrance of the temple. Only a few minutes
were necessary for this journey, for the temple was but a short distance
from the palace gate, and both were in plain sight of Yung Pak and Kim
Yong.

It was only a fleeting glimpse of the king that they got, as he passed
from his chair to the temple gate; but this was enough to repay Yung Pak
for the rushing and the crowding and the waiting that he had been
obliged to endure. Rare indeed were these glimpses of his Majesty, and
they afforded interest and excitement enough to last a long while.

But the procession was not over yet. A chair covered with red silk,
borne on the shoulders of sixteen chair-men, passed up to the temple.

"Who is in that chair?" asked Yung Pak of his companion.

"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 d