ad come for.

"Come to the point! Come to the point! You did not come to me, in such
secrecy, to talk commonplace things like that!" said the missionary a
bit sharply.

Then the boy suddenly dropped to his knees behind the missionary's desk
and whipped out a big knife. Then he took from his white gown a long
piece of white cloth. This he laid out on the floor. Then he opened his
sharp knife with a quick motion and before the missionary knew it, he
had ripped the index finger of his right hand, from, the tip to the
palm, clear to the bone, until the blood spurted all over the floor.

"What are you doing, my boy?" cried the missionary.

The boy smiled a sublime smile and then knelt on his knees over the
white cloth and before the missionary's tear-misty eyes wrote across the
immaculate cloth in his own blood the words: "Mansei! Mansei! Mansei!
Korean Independence Forever! Self-determination!"

Then underneath these words in a few swift strokes in his own blood he
drew a picture of the Korean flag. And as he drew, now and then the
blood would not flow fast enough; and he took his knife, as one primes a
fountain pen; and cut a bit deeper to open new veins in order that the
flag of his country and the declaration of his faith might be written in
the deepest colors that his own veins could furnish.

Finally, after what seemed hours he jumped to his feet and handed the
missionary that flag; crying as he did so: "That is our faith! That is
the way we Koreans feel! You are going back to America! We want America
to know that our faith in the Independence of Korea has not died! The
fire burns higher to-day than ever. The Japanese cruelties are worse!
The need is greater! The oppression is more terrible! Our determination
is deeper than ever before! I have come here this day, knowing that you
are going back to America; I came to write these words in my own blood
that you may know; and that America may know; that our faith is a flame
which burns out like the beacon lights on the Korean hills, never to
die!"

* * * * *

The most scintillating Flash-light of Faith that I saw in the Orient was
in the Philippine Islands. We were traveling the jungle trail to visit a
tribe of naked Negritos. These are diminutive people who look like
American negroes only they are much smaller; much more underfed, and who
live in trees very much like the Orangutans of Borneo. They eat roots
and nuts. They hunt with