Little Korean boys have to go to school, just as you do, though they do not study in just the same way. You would be surprised if you were to step into a Korean schoolroom. All the boys sit upon the floor with their legs curled up beneath them. Instead of the quiet, silent scholars, you would hear a loud and deafening buzz. All the pupils study out loud. They not only do their studying aloud, but they talk very loud, as if each one were trying to make more noise than his neighbour.
The Koreans call this noise kang-siong, and it seems almost deafening to one unused to it. You would think the poor teacher would be driven crazy, but he seems as calm as a daisy in a June breeze.
ALL THE BOYS SIT UPON THE FLOOR
The Korean boys have to have "tests" and examinations just as you do. When a lad has a good lesson, the teacher makes a big red mark on his paper, and he carries it home with the greatest pride,—just as you do when you take home a school paper marked "100."
But Yung Pak was not allowed to share the pleasures and the trials of the boys in the public school.
One day, soon after he was six years old, his father sent for him to come to his private room,—perhaps you would call it a study or library. With Yung Pak's father was a strange gentleman, a young man with a pleasant face and an air of good breeding.
"This," said Ki Pak to his son as he entered the room, "is Wang Ken. I have engaged him to be your teacher, or tutor. The time has come for you to begin to learn to read and to cipher and to study the history and geography of our country."
Yung Pak made a very low bow, for all Korean boys are early taught to be courteous, especially to parents, teachers, and officials.