One evening the newly made king heard a cock crow in the woods toward the west. He sent his servants after it, who found a small golden casket suspended from a tree. Under it a white cock was crowing. The servant reported the matter to his master. Another servant was despatched to the place. He returned with the box, which, being opened, was found to contain a boy baby, who was given the name signifying “The Golden Boy from the Grove in which the Cock crowed.” The baby boy grew up and succeeded his father. In the reign of the twenty-second king of the line, the people of the country, then called Shin-han, changed the name of their country to Shinra. In the “Grammaire Coréenne” there are a number of specimens of folk-lore given in Corean and French, from which we extract a few of the most characteristic. The first one is an illustration of our universal human nature. THE THREE WISHES. There were once two old married folks who had not a single child, boy or girl. Extremely poor, they lived a pitiable life. One evening, when it was very cold in winter, after having supped, they gazed into the fire in the brazier, and sitting in their room face to face they warmed themselves a moment in silence, when the good old man thus spoke: “For the rich the winter is an excellent season; their food is prepared in advance. Having no toil they have only to take their ease. But for the poor, it is a rough time when they have neither food for the mouth nor fuel. If they go out over the mountain through the rain or the snow to seek wood, they die of cold or frost.” The good dame replied: “They say that Heaven is just. Why then does he permit this? They say, besides, that when you pray to Heaven, it is easy to obtain that which you need. If we ask to become rich—” said she. “You are right, do so,” replied the husband. And both prostrating themselves, prayed fervently to the Deity, when suddenly an angel appeared. “In spite of your sin of murmuring, Heaven having pitied you, accords you three things, after which you can ask no more. Reflect well, choose, and ask.” Saying this he disappeared. The old man made this proposition: “If we ask riches, freedom from sickness, or long life—” “No,” said the old woman, “we should not enjoy these things properly if we do not have a child. What pleasure will it be?” “Hold! I have not asked. What shall I do? If he had only said four things at the good moment! Why did he say only three? Since we wish to have a child, must we forego freedom from sickness, must we renounce riches, must we give up long life? It is hard to decide. Think, then, seriously this night, and decide to-morrow.” Breaking off their conversation, both sat plunged in reverie. At the moment of lying down to sleep, the old woman, stirring up the fire with the tongs, launched out with this reflection, “If we could have three or four feet of pudding to set to toast on this brazier, that would be royally excellent.”