According to a native superstition that the city is a boat, and to dig wells would sink the boat, there were no wells in Pyeng Yang; but a large number of bodies of men and horses were lying in the river, polluting for weeks the only water supply. In this dreadful situation our brave missionaries remained and worked, and on October 17th Dr. Hall wrote the following cheerful words, “We have very interesting services, the hymns of praise that less than a year ago brought cursing and stones are now listened to with delight, and carry with them a feeling of security similar to the sound of a policeman’s whistle in New York. Comparatively few of the Koreans have returned to their homes, but every day brings fresh additions. Every day numbers of those who have returned and those from the surrounding villages and towns visit us. They buy our books and seem far more interested in the gospel than I have ever seen them before.” [Illustration: DESERTED ROYAL DINING HALL. PAGE 121] Very soon after writing these words Dr. Hall returned to Seoul; the boat on which he came was full of sick Japanese soldiers. There were cases of typhus fever and army dysentery, the water was doubtless poisoned, and he reached Seoul, after numerous most trying vicissitudes, fatally ill with typhus fever. Quite early, articulation became very difficult, but every halting sentence spoke of perfect peace and joy, and almost his last words were, “I’m sweeping through the gates.” Tears dim my eyes while I write, for we all not only loved, but reverenced Dr. Hall, and we felt that he possessed a larger share of the Master’s spirit than most of us. His very entrance into a room seemed to bring the Lord nearer, and his looks, words and conduct unexceptionally revealed the power and beauty of Christ. No one ever heard Dr. Hall speak a harsh or bitter word, no one ever heard him criticise a brother Christian, no one, to the best of my information, ever knew of him anything that was not noble, true, faithful and Christlike. His face beamed with a celestial light, and without his ever assuming to be in any way better than others, we all felt he was a holy man. Europeans and natives alike testified to the same impressions of him, the same love for him, his sweet spirit drew all hearts to him, so that he was both universally loved and honored. While we who were in Seoul had all suffered more or less from ill health, everything was quiet and orderly, and the Japanese deserve great credit for the fine discipline of the army, and the good order and comfort of natives and foreigners in a city entirely at the mercy of the victorious troops of an Eastern nation.