The Magic Ox-Cure.
A wealthy country gentleman, whom we will call Mr. Cho, tiring of the otium cum dignitate of provincial life and wishing to throw himself into the vortex of official activity, came up to Seoul and became the ante-room loafer and flatterer in general to one of the highest dignitaries in the land. Morning and evening he inquired assiduously after his patron’s health and backed up his words with frequent and costly gifts. Of course this began to tell upon his finances and after ten years of perseverance he received word from his family in the country that he was bankrupt and that as his household were about to die of starvation they must write and let him know.
This disclosure aroused Mr. Cho to violent anger against the official who had so long accepted his gifts with complacency but had never suggested any equivalent in the shape of a government position. He hurried to the official’s house and explained that as his property was all gone be must return to his shattered home and his starving family.
“Very well,” replied the official. “Of course you will consult your own convenience.” This made Cho’s anger burn seven times hot. He stalked from the room and posted to his country place vowing that he would find some way to bring the unfeeling official to terms.
Arrived at his ancestral village he found that his family had given up the spacious mansion he had formerly owned and were living, or rather dying, in a wretched straw-thatched hovel. It was necessary to raise some money, and so he started out for a distant town where his fourth cousin lived, in order to negotiate a small loan.
As he was on his way he was overtaken by a severe storm. He looked all about but could see no shelter anywhere. He struggled on, looking to right and left through the pouring rain, and at last sighted a little cottage among the trees. At the door he called out to the good-man of the house but there was no reply. The house was not deserted, for he saw a thin line of smoke issuing from the chimney. He shouted aloud and at last an old woman appeared at the door and questioned who it was that thus rudely demanded entrance, though uninvited. When the bedraggled Cho explained the situation the woman relented and let him in. There was but one stone-floored room but this she gave up to him with good grace and went about preparing him a nice supper, after which he lay down and fell asleep.
How long he had slept he could not tell, when he awoke with a start to the sound of a man’s voice who was asking of the woman gruffly:
“What time is it, anyway? I must get off to market early with that ox”; whereupon the couple entered Cho’s room, the man carrying four sticks and the wife a halter. The farmer dragged the bedclothes off the guest, bestrode his chest and began to belabor him with the sticks, while the woman fastened the halter around his neck. He was then dragged out of the room, but to his horror he found himself going on four legs and when he tried to speak he could only low like an ox. When one of his horns caught against the door-post he learned that he had indeed been transformed into a four-footed beast and was being taken to market. To say that he was experiencing a new sensation would be to put it very mildly indeed.
At the market town he was herded with a drove of cattle, among which he was the largest and fattest, and consequently there were many eager buyers; but the farmer asked such a high price that none of them could buy. At last a burly butcher came to terms with the farmer and poor Mr. Cho found that he was being led away to slaughter.
But as fate would have it, the butcher was of a bibulous temperament and when they came to a wine shop the ox was tied to a stake while the butcher indulged in the flowing bowl. And so copiously did the latter drink that he forgot all about the animal. Mr. Cho stood waiting for hours but his master did not appear. Just over the hedge to the right was a field of succulent turnips. To the bovine nostrils of Mr. Cho this proved as tempting as the wine had proved to the butcher.
Mr. Cho had a ring through his nose which was very awkward but at last he managed to get loose from the stake and, crowding through the hedge, he pulled a turnip and began to munch it. After the first bite a curious sensation overtook him and he began to have an over-mastering desire to stand on his hind legs only. A thrill went through him from tail to horns and in another instant he found himself an ox no longer but the same old two-legged Cho as of old. This was eminently satisfactory and the satisfaction was doubled when, coming through the hedge into the road, a befuddled butcher asked him if he had seen a loose ox anywhere. He assured the purveyor of beef that he had not, and walked away toward home pondering upon this rather unusual occurrence.
Suddenly he stood stock still in the road, uttered an exclamation of triumph, slapped his thigh and hurried forward with his mind evidently made up.
“Sticks and turnips! Sticks and turnips!” he repeated over and over again as if it were a magic formula. He kept straight on till night overtook him near the very house which had witnessed his metamorphosis. He called out again as before and was similarly received, but instead of sleeping, he arose in the night and sneaked about the premises until he found and secured the four sticks with which the work had been done. He followed this larceny with a silent and speedy departure, not toward his home but toward Seoul, still muttering in his beard,
“Sticks and turnips! Sticks and turnips!”
Of course he knew the ins and outs of the official’s house which he had haunted for ten long fruitless years, and as it was summer time and very hot all the windows were open. So he had no difficulty in marking down his prey. He found him sleeping profoundly. Cho knelt beside the recumbent form and taking only two of the sticks began tapping very gently upon the sleeper, but not hard enough to awaken him. By the dim light of the moon he soon saw two horns grow out of the sleeper’s head and his two hands gradually turn into hoofs. This was enough. He arrested the operation at this point and silently departed.
When morning came there were hurryings to and fro and whispered consultations in that high official’s house. A celebrated physician came hurrying up in his two man chair and disappeared within the house. On a distant hill a devil shrine awoke to life at the howlings and twistings of a mudang who was begging the imps in frenzied terms to lift their heavy hands from the person of a high official.
But there was no relief. The great man sat there dumb as a brute with two great horns protruding from his forehead and his two hands turned into horny hoofs.
At this juncture Mr. Cho appeared upon the scene, announcing that he had just come from the country, and when told of the terrible affliction of his former patron expressed the utmost concern. Admitted to the chamber of the official he inquired what had been done for him. He learned that physicians had exhausted their skill and that, at the instance of the lady of the house, mudangs had done their best but all to no avail.
Mr. Cho assumed a mysterious air and asserted that there was one remedy that had been left untried and that he was sure it would prove effective. He promised to secure some of it and hurried away. Purchasing a turnip at the corner grocery he cut it up fine, macerated it and dried it into a powder. Late in the afternoon he returned to the official’s house and in the presence of the family administered the potent drug. An instant later the two horns were seen to recede slowly into the cranium of the patient and the hoofs to change their form, and at last all evidence of the bestial metamorphosis was wiped out. The official’s voice came back and he joined with the rest of the family in heaping thanks upon Mr. Cho. But if anyone supposes that his reward ended with mere thanks he will make a grievous mistake. Honors poured in upon him, peysil unlimited and kwansey without alloy.
Yi Chong-won.