“Hello! the puppy of the teacher Tsoi has come to collect his fees and I have not a penny. That is not very nice.” The people of the village, one by one, two by two, all without exception looked at the mirror, but unable to comprehend anything, they made a tumult. Curious to know what should result, they carried it to the magistrate. At sight of the instrument, the man of authority more astonished than the others, called the policemen and gave them this order: “A new officer has arrived, why have I lost my place? Get ready men and horses for him.” Really believing that he had been cashiered he prepared to leave, when a young policeman after a careful examination of the mirror, pointed out the manner in which the visage of each individual was reflected. CHAPTER XXXV. PROVERBS AND PITHY SAYINGS. Shut off, as they are, from the rest of the world, like fish in a well, the Coreans nevertheless have coined a fair share of homely wisdom, which finds ready circulation in their daily speech. Their proverbs not only bear the mint-mark of their origin, but reflect truly the image and superscription of those who send them forth. Many, indeed, of their current proverbs and pithy expressions are of Japanese or Chinese origin, but those we have selected are mainly of peninsular birth, and have the flavor of the soil. Do the Coreans place the seat of wisdom as they do the point of vaccination, in the nose? They ask, “Who has a nose three feet long?” which means, “If one is embarrassed, how can he put others at ease?” Evidently they have a wholesome regard for that member. A “nose of iron” describes an opinionated man and suggests unlimited “cheek.” A common expression of the Christians, meaning to go to church and pray, is “to see the long nose of the father”—that feature of the French priest’s face being looked upon with awe as the seat of wisdom. Between the rivals, Japan and China, Corea probably sees herself in this proverb of the unhappy cur that wanders boneless between two kitchens—the cook in each supposing it has been fed by the other. “The dog which between two monasteries gets nothing.” Corea’s isolation is “like a fish in a well,” or “like a hermit in the market-place.” They say of a secluded villager, “He knows nothing beyond the place which he inhabits.” “One stick to ten blind men,” is something very precious. “The cock of the village in a splendid city mansion,” is the bumpkin in the capital. “To have a cake in each hand,” is to know not which to eat first—to be in a quandary. “A volcano under the snow,” is a man of amiable manners who conceals a violent temper. “The treasure which always circulates without an obstacle,” is “cash,” or sapeks. “An apricot-blossom in the snow,” is said when something rare and marvellous happens. “To blow away the hair to see if there is a scar,” is to look for a mote in another man’s eye, and to hunt for defects.