Fifteen Years Among the Top-Knots; Or, Life in KoreaUnderwood, Lillias H. (Lillias Horton)
Religion
Fifteen Years Among the Top-Knots; Or, Life in Korea
Underwood, Lillias H. (Lillias Horton)
Korea -- Description and travel; Missions -- Korea
We asked the host to take them into his house and take charge of them,
to which he willingly consented. His son, in an agony of terror, begged
him not to do so, as the robbers had threatened to come and burn down
his house if he sheltered either us or our goods. The stout-hearted
little fellow, whose soul was much too large for his body, laughed
at the threat, and bidding one of the very men who had attacked us
give a lift, he carried our trunks into his house and said he would
take good care of them for us until we should send for them. In the
meanwhile Mr. Underwood had been urging me to eat, which I tried in
vain to do, as a large lump of something hard had become fixed in my
throat, would neither go up or down and no food could pass that way. In
fact, I may as well admit I was a very much frightened woman, and my
whole desire was to run away as fast and as far as possible from that
dreadful locality. It sounds, and is, disgraceful, but as this is a
narration of facts it may as well be confessed. My chief grief was that
we must leave our poor friends behind. That, indeed, seemed cruel and
unthinkable, yet there appeared to be no other way to relieve or help
them.
Just as we were ready to start two or three country people came and
asked for medicines for trifling complaints. Was anything ever so
ill-timed? Surely we could not wait then, when the lives of our poor
people as well as our own perhaps depended on our speedy departure. But
not so, counseled my husband. These men and women needed help which we
could give. It was our duty to show that we, as the servants of Jesus,
had come in a spirit of brotherhood and love, and it gave us a fine
opening to deliver a message and to distribute the printed Word--it
would not take long, and in any case were we not in God’s hands? So not
knowing what moment the ruffians might return to drag us away to share
the unknown fate of our attendants, perhaps death, surely torture, I
prescribed. Alas! I hope none of my patients were poisoned; but with
so distracted a mind did I work that it was very difficult to fix my
thoughts on afflicted eyes, ears and throats, etc. At length all had
been seen, the medicines repacked, when another patient appeared; again
we waited, I diagnosed and prescribed and Mr. Underwood prepared the
medicine; but still another and yet another appeared, till I began
to think we should not be able to leave that day at all. At last,
however, all were satisfied, and we started with our race with time,
considerably after two o’clock.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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