On one occasion not long since an affair of this kind threatened very serious results for a hot-headed young compatriot of ours, who went to photograph one of these fights. A cool-headed American recently snapped his camera on a tiger here before shooting it, and it may have been in emulation of him, that our young friend made this attempt. He soon became convinced that he was the object at which all the missiles were sent, and that the bloodthirsty ruffians were all seeking his life. Being unfortunately as well as unlawfully armed with a six-shooter, over-excited and alarmed, he fired into the crowd and fled. His bullet entered the fleshy part of the leg of one of the natives, who fell, as most of them supposed, mortally wounded; and now indeed the wrath of the crowd on both sides was directed at its hottest against the thoroughly frightened young man. He ran for his life--the crowd pursuing with yells of fury. Camera and overcoat were flung away--he had nearly a mile to go to reach shelter in the American legation, which he at length managed to do, panting and almost exhausted. As his victim was not seriously hurt, he escaped with the payment of a fine, a few weeks’ imprisonment, a most severe reprimand, and a polite request to leave the country. The Koreans often evince considerable military skill in the tactics of these civil battles. Sharpshooters armed with slings will take possession of some high point, and others are sent to take them by surprise and dislodge them, suddenly creeping upon them from the rear, or scaling the rampart in the face of the enemy’s fire. These natives repeatedly prove themselves good fighters and no cowards, when armed and facing not too unequal numbers. During this my first summer in Korea I was invited to attend a royal Quaga. This was a very interesting assemblage of Korean scholars, who met in the palace grounds, and there in little tents or booths wrote theses in Chinese on some subject given by the king. Those whose papers passed a successful examination were rewarded with some civil rank, supposed to be proportioned to the excellence of their standing. I should think that more than a thousand men from all parts of the country were gathered in these grounds, busily writing or copying their papers, some of which were then being handed to the judges. I was told, however, that in nearly all the successful cases money was necessary to aid the judgment and clarify the minds of the judges. We were treated with great kindness, invited to a fine pavilion, and later offered refreshments in the royal dining hall. This old-time (shall I say, dishonored) institution has now fallen into disuse for some years. No doubt in its honest beginnings a truly competitive examination for office, it was good and useful, but abuses creeping in, rendered it an empty form to be finally abolished as a useless and effete remnant of ancient days.