We remained for the whole of the day as guests of Their Majesties, wandering in the wonderland of their favourite grounds, going from palace to pagoda, from temple to hall, each a separate gem of Chinese art, and each bearing evidence of wanton mutilation by the allied troops. I felt grieved that such monuments of history and pieces of art, which should have been a cherished possession of all the world, should have been destroyed by what we call civilized white men. We strolled over marble bridges, climbed pagodas built of china, were shown the marvellous orchard, planted with dwarf trees, the favourite resort of the Princess, and had tea served on the Marble Boat. [Illustration: THE SUMMER PALACE "We remained for the whole day as guests of their Majesties, wandering in the wonderland of their favourite grounds" To face page 188] But the great feature of the day was the state banquet, where we were served with, I dare say, a hundred courses of unimaginable dainties: sharks' fins, water-sparrows, eggs of great age, nests of sea-birds, and puppy chops. But I will not weary my readers with such details. I only want to tell of my journey back along the dusty highway to Pekin. I was so worn out and faint with hunger, not having been able to appreciate the Chinese cooking, that I stopped for rest and a dish of boiled rice at our orphanage at Pei-tang, where the popular hooded nuns, so well known for their heroic sacrifices on battle-fields, in plague hospitals and leper homes, maintain an asylum to save the lives of little children who would otherwise sometimes be killed by their own parents. These children are brought up to be good men and useful citizens; and I can only wish that the Empress, instead of giving banquets of a hundred courses at the Summer Palace, would send some crumbs to the little starving babes. And never have I appreciated a meal more than on that evening, after so much gold and glitter and external show, in the humble abode. VIII KOREA OF BYGONE DAYS AND ON THE EVE OF THE WAR I The history of Korea reads like a fairy tale. The Land of the Morning Calm beyond the seas is so quaint, so very much out of the common, that we can hardly realize that all we hear of it is reality and not mere fiction. The country, the people, and the life are all strange, and totally different from what we see and meet with in other parts of the world. I can scarcely imagine anything more impressive than for a traveller coming straight from some Western port to land in this country--one of the remotest in the East. It is as though he had set foot in a topsy-turvy world; everything is the reverse of what he has been accustomed to. Facts and ideas are antagonistic to ours; things material and spiritual seem to be governed by other rules and other natural laws.