There are two cabins, neither of which is high enough for tall people to stand erect in, one of which, with hardly room for three or four to occupy it with comfort, is packed with the unhappy second-class passengers. The other is somewhat larger, about twelve feet long by six wide. This room contains a table and six chairs, and in it are often stowed from ten to twenty first-class passengers. Here one meets “the world.” Korean officials, Korean, Chinese or Japanese merchants, French Romanist priests, strolling acrobats, singers, dancing girls, and Protestant missionaries. All except the latter smoke until the air will slice nicely, and many of them indulge in native or foreign liquor till their society is almost past endurance. The boat follows the river northward past the historical island of Kangwha, with its picturesque walls and gates, till it flows into the sea, an arm of which our course crosses at this point to reach the shore on which lies the little village which is the port for the city of Hai Ju. On the day in question, when we profited for the first by all these contrivances of _kaiwha_, the ice was still in the river, ours being only the second trip made since it began to break. Nothing could be seen on all sides but great blocks of ice, much larger than our little craft, and all in a conspiracy apparently to prevent our advance, banging and pushing us, now on one side and now on the other. With much panting and puffing, occasionally sustaining a pretty severe shock but quickly gaining advantage lost and shoving aside her clumsy opponents, our boat steadily forced her passage onward and gradually gained the clear waters of the sea. This trip lasted only sixteen hours, while it would have taken three days overland. We landed at half past eight on the edge of a long stretch of mud flats, covered with slimy boulders and stones, all of which now lay under a foot of half frozen snow, which hid the rocks and made the going very precarious in the darkness. There was only one warm room to be had and no food, while the “warm room” was only a little less cold than out of doors. Thoroughly chilled, tired and hungry, and somewhat dispirited, as hungry folks are apt to be, we all retired to the floor, to rest finely, and waken in a better mind next morning, none the worse for our seafaring. At Hai Ju the believers gathered around us with the warmest welcome. They were all mourning the loss of a beloved leader who had died a short time before. We of course held meetings with them during the two days, which were all we could spare at that time, saw and talked with all who would come, trying to strengthen and comfort the believers, and promising if possible to remain longer with them on our return. One poor young wife whose husband had given up Christianity and gone back to the his old life, and whose heathen mother-in-law was persecuting her cruelly, excited our pity. Pale, emaciated and tearful, she came begging our advice and help.