sessed of great endurance, but frequently vicious. It is used as a beast of burden, and shares with the aristocrat's donkey the honor of use under the saddle. For an appreciative description of the Korean pony I commend you to Rev. J. S. Gale's sketch in the Korean Repository.
Every house keeps a wolfish or currish dog, brave to a fault—in barking. Cats exist and razor-backed pigs. There are also rats, mice, and weasels. If one knows where to go, where mountains are many and men are few, tigers, leopards, foxes, wild boar, and deer can be found in the country. Saucy magpies, screaming kites, inky crows and armies of sparrows are to be seen everywhere. In the country may be heard the cuckoo's and the wild pigeon's notes; and the lark pours forth his melody. The stately stork and crane swoop over the rice fields. Falcons and eagles are seen rarely. Many a pheasant starts up from beside the country road, resplendent in the gorgeous plumage that finds a faint reflection in the markings of the barn-yard fowls, so plentiful in Korea. Near the seashore a tree top is visible now and then, filled with the nests of the noisy blue heron. The graceful swan is seen occasionally; and wild ducks and geese abound, plentiful enough to stir the huntsman's heart.
This sketchy view of the nature of the country and its products may serve as a canvas upon which we may throw, in the pages that follow, our pictures of life in Korea.
