ugh 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_.
As Yung Pak grew older he was given many toys, among them rattles,
drums, flags, and dolls, just as you had them. Some of the toys, though,
were very peculiar ones--different from anything you ever saw. He had
little tasselled umbrellas, just like the big one his father used when
he walked out in the sun. He also had little fringed hats and toy
chariots with fancy wheels. One of Yung Pak's favourite toys was a
wooden jumping-jack with a pasteboard tongue. By pulling a string the
tongue was drawn in and a trumpet carried up to the mouth.
Another favourite toy was a tiger on wheels. Tiger-hunting, by the way,
was considered great sport by Yung Pak's father. It was a very dangerous
one, too, and sometimes lives were sacrificed in his efforts to capture
or to kill this fierce wild beast. Sometimes the animal was caught in a
trap which was nothing less than a hut of logs with a single entrance.
In the roof of the hut heavy beams would be placed on a forked stick.
The bait--a young lamb or kid--would be tied beneath the beams. The
moment the bait was touched, down would come the heavy timber--smash--on
the tiger's head.
But Yung Pak's tiger was ferocious only in looks. It was made of paper
pulp and painted with bright stripes. This harmless image of a fierce
beast Yung Pak would pull about the floor with a string by the hour.
All his pets were not of wood and paper. Real live animals he had.
Puppies and kittens, of course. His greatest pet, though, was a monkey.
What little boy ever saw a monkey that he didn't want for his own? So
when Yung Pak's father made him a present of a monkey--a real
monkey--alive--he just danced with glee.
This monkey was not a very large one,--not over a foot high,--but he
could cut capers and play tricks equal to any monkey you ever saw
travelling with an organ-grinder. He was dressed in a scarlet jacket,
and he was alway
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