We arrived in this ancient city about sundown, and shortly afterwards met ten Christian inquirers. In a few days we sold all our books, and medicines, which we expected would last for the entire trip, and had to send back to Seoul for more. We were besieged by large crowds of people during our stay, so that we were obliged to ask for a guard at the gate. We admitted fifty at a time, and when their curiosity had been sated, their diseases treated, and they had bought as many books as they wanted, they were dismissed, to make room for another pushing, struggling, eagerly curious fifty. Mr. Underwood baptized no one, but met, examined and instructed inquirers, and directed and corrected his native helper’s work. Songdo is about forty-five miles from Seoul, and has about two hundred thousand inhabitants. Thus far the Southern Methodists are the only ones who have a station there, though just why we other missionaries never started work in so important a center it would be hard to say; except that it did not seem to develop there at first as promisingly, shall I say, as insistently, as in some other places, where need was so pressing we never could obtain workers enough to supply the demand, far less start new centers. [Illustration: TAI-TONG RIVER. PAGE 45] [Illustration: FERRY BOAT. PAGE 43] Songdo has no gates. It is said that they were removed, with the privileges as well of the Quaga, because the people of that city so persistently continued to despise and treat with contempt the authority of Seoul. Whereas it is the custom to speak of going _up_ to Seoul, they would refer to going _down_ to that city; they would not measure their grain from right to left, as in Seoul, but from left to right; and worst of all, from having constantly referred to the king as a pig, they came to speak of a pig by the king’s name! From Songdo, we proceeded north, by short stages to Pyeng Yang, which was the next place of importance, where Mr. Underwood looked for inquirers and where there were already a few Christians. We reached the Tai-tong River, which lay just below the city gates between us and it, in a driving snow storm. Long and loudly did the various members of our party try their lungs in the effort to obtain a boat, but at length, when patience was quite exhausted, the ferryman, or one of them, arrived with a great flat-bottomed boat, which accommodated us all--ponies, packs, coolies, chair, helpers and missionaries--and landed us in mud and safety on the other side for a few cash. I had almost forgotten, however, to speak of the beautiful road leading up to this ferry, with its noble overarching trees and its variety of beautiful bushes and flowers. Even at that bleak and wintry season it was lovely, and a month later, when we returned, it was charming, with its green woodland shade and its wealth of sweet-scented blossoms. Now, alas! it is quite shorn of its beauty, for during the Japanese-Chinese war, the trees were all cut down.