The streets still retain a great charm, but each day sees it lessening. The stalls contain all sorts of strange comestibles, among which fish occupy a prominent position, and various seaweeds are a natural accompaniment to them. Dried cuttle fish hang up in rows, and are a tasty dish in the eyes of the natives, and all kinds of other fish are dried and hung up in strings to form artistic designs for the adornment of the shops, as well as for the benefit of purchasers. Next in number to fish shops are those for hats, I should think, and these are quite unique. I understand that a book has been written on the subject, so numerous are the varieties in Korea. The common hat is made of black crinoline, rather like the old Welsh hat, but not so tall, and it is tied with black strings under the chin. As the whole of the rest of a Korean’s costume is white, the black hat forms a telling contrast. The hair is allowed to grow long, and is gathered into a top knot, which is visible within the transparent crown of the hat. A closely fitting cap of horsehair rising into a peak is worn indoors, and below it is a tight band of horsehair about a quarter of an inch wide, bound round the head, greatly to the detriment of the circulation. The mourning cap or hat is white, or rather cream colour, and still more commonly is a large hat worn as mourning, looking like an inverted flower, and accompanied by a long coat of stiff undressed cotton to match (see sketch). Scholars wear a somewhat different shaped crinoline hat, and boys celebrate their engagement by wearing a special little straw hat. Official hats again are quite different, of which an example may be seen in the design on the book cover. One of the most familiar sights passing along the streets is the water-carrier, for up to the present time the water-supply of Pyöng Yang has been entirely drawn from the river, and the men carry the water in pails on their backs; in fact, unlike China, everything almost is carried on the back in Korea, and frequently the loads are of a great weight. The old tradition is that Pyöng Yang is a floating city (it was built boat-shaped), and no one is supposed to dig in it, for fear of sinking the ship.