HOW THE BABY HELD UP TWO ARMIES By Mary Gay Humphreys ILLUSTRATIONS BY E. M. ASHE HE day that the Japanese army, eight thousand strong, under General Oshima, landed at Seoul, the Calvin MacMurtrie's baby fell ill. This was the middle of July, when the Korean climate lies on the shoulders like a wet blanket. In fifteen minutes every tent was up, the rice cooked, and two days' boiled water was ready for the little men-so perfect was the Japanese executive staff. In twenty-four hours they had possession of the Palace, all the bureaus, and had set in motion all those beneficent reforms which, it was promptly announced, the Japanese army had come over to bestow. Such stirring events did not disturb the routine of the foreign residents of Seoul, who were accustomed in that comic-opera civilization to lightning changes of government, and tea and tennis went on as usual. The tennis court and club house are in the valley overlooked by the British Legation, the pretty Korean house of the American Minister, and the imposing mansion of the Russians crowning the slope. Diplomats and missionaries were at the nets, and a lounging group on the piazza watched the game and at the same time discussed the gossip of Seoul. The two prominent topics were the Japanese invasion and the MacMurtrie baby's illness. The baby, indeed, had the larger share of attention, for the women were more numerous. It was Mrs. Helyett's day for tea, and her governess and several unattached missionaries were assisting her to make ready for the moment when the players should come in, red and clamorous. "Mary Adams was sent for after midnight," continued Miss Knightson, contemplating the arrangement of the table. 'Baby must have been pretty bad, for she didn't take time to wait for her chair, but went on her bike." "Alone!" exclaimed Mrs. Helyett. "At that hour?" "Alone. But who's afraid of Koreans?" "The Japanese, though.' "Sure enough. But baby was in convulsions." "Convulsions! Miss Coote, you must go and inquire before dinner." Miss Coote was the governess of Mrs. Helyett; a lady-like young girl, with a brother, an out-door customs man at Chemulpo-both positions of subordination which required 2 subdued manner to match. "Miss Wilson is with them this afternoon, and I am to spend the night. " Miss Knightson continued. "Here is Mary Adams now. Do tell us, Mary." A tall, well-developed young woman entered, with a swift, noiseless movement. Mary Adams was what is known as a medical missionary, but there clung to her no odor of the sick-room. She came in, bringing with her a sense of out-doors, of harmony of mind and person, and a pair of large white hands that seemed formed to grapple neatly and decisively with difficulties. "How is baby, Mary ?" everyone asked, with the unanimity of a chorus. "Quiet this morning at eleven. The convulsions have passed, but left it perilously weak. Poor Mrs. MacMurtrie is nearly a ind Calvin looks like a wraith. We must arrange a system of relays, for they need support, mental and physical." "It is a pity they would live at that end," said Miss Knightson. "Yes. But Mrs. Cho Yun Ha is near. Her Chinese good sense is fairly Western." "Thanks to the Shanghai Mission." "Perhaps." Mrs. Helyett looked up from her cups. "I hope the poor little fellow will pull through, Miss Adams." Mrs. Helyett was a mother herself—an English mother with "I had forgotten there were such things as Japanese sentries," Mary meditated. "Well, ignorance is the mother of courage. I'm ever so afraid of getting wise." "Oh, that's your reason. "Miss Knightson turned from the library, where she was checking off books. "Saucy! But seriously I am glad I'd forgotten the Japanese, for I would have waited to waken my boys, and Cho is one of the descendants of the Seven Sleepers. "The Japanese say they have come to stay," said Nelly. 'They think so, but there may be two words to that. Hush!" The entrance of a good-natured, broadfaced woman with a Calmuck nose interrupted Mrs. Helyett. It was the wife of the Russian Minister. The unexpected arrival of the Japanese might not be an agreeable topic; and in a small society like that of Seoul, representing such varied interests, debatable conversation had no place. On the piazza talk was freer. "By Jove! what do you think of the pretext?" Judge Gilkerson was a British magistrate who had come over from China to preside over the Consular Court. "For taking the Palace? Crickey! See Ankeny serve. Oh, long memories! They've claimed sovereignty since old Queen Jingu's time," Dr. Knightson answered, being an authority on Korean history. "Sixteen centuries is a far-away claim. The King of Shiran is Japan's dog. Eh?" "Just so." The Oriental is sublime in claims. China at least exercised her sovereignty." "Yes, we've all seen the King go down to the gap to receive the Chinese envoys. That's being a vassal, I take it." "Well, the Japanese will clean you up, at least. They're clean beggars, the Japs. But what do you suppose they think about it up there?" The Judge pointed to the Russian towers. "The Bear is awake. Peter's map is never folded. If this thing goes on, the blue sea is in sight of the Bear. Meanwhile, with the Japanese broom we'll escape cholera." Dr. Knightson got up. "By the way, MacMurtrie's baby is sick. Boy No. 2 told my Pak." "Dear me! It must have been sudden. I saw Mac yesterday." "Taken last night with convulsions." "The poor little chap! I wonder if there is anything we can do.” The Judge's sympathy was sincere. In these little alien colonies, each human counts. The MacMurtrie baby was the last "added to the strength of" the community, as the English army orders announce each new arrival of this sort in the marriage lines. The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the tennis players, fanning themselves with their rackets and clamorous for tea. They were a couple of missionaries, a young attaché, Leggett, and a tall, robust young Englishman, who dropped behind as the group approached the piazza. The Judge and Dr. Knightson got up and joined them, and they disappeared within. The last comer halted shyly on the steps, but Leggett put out his head. "Come on, Hayton, man. They're harmless." There was a general uplifting of heads as the young man entered the room; for a stranger in Seoul counts twice. 66 Ah, Mr. Hayton," Mrs. Helyett greeted him from her tea-table. "Miss Coote, look after Mr. Hayton. Nelly Blackburn, who had taken the stranger in with her wide-eyed scrutiny, resumed her speech: "But I tell you, Miss Knightson, I saw Boy No. 2 holding the bread between his toes to toast." "What do you mean, Nelly? This bread?" Miss Knightson made herself heard in the general protest. "No, our bread. But then I shouldn't be surprised. They do all sorts of things when nobody is looking," Nelly insisted in her own defence. In the outcry, the new-comer strove to reach the window, and plunged awkwardly over the elbows of Mary Adams's longsleeved chair. "Great Scott!" he ejaculated. His awkwardness was unnoticed in the excitement of Nelly's revelations, except by Mary Adams, who gave a quick glance up into his face. He caught her eye, and their mutual gaze was arrested until crimson flags began to wave in both their cheeks. Mary Adams got up hastily, and under cover of Nelly's surprising and suggestive statements went to the tea-table, while the young man sought the window ledge and drank his tea. "Well, I dare say that at home we don't always know what goes on in our own kitchens," Mrs. Blackburn protested, as the best defence she could make for her beloved Koreans. For it is to be observed, except in Japan, the missionary carries himself chivalrously toward the race to which he is accredited, against all comers. Nelly, having spent her shaft, left her elders to the subject she had incontinently set going, and sought Mary Adams. "There it is, pure English, and an extra lump of sugar I stole, in the saucer." Nelly handed him the replenished cup and sat down on the arm of Mary's chair, ready to provide either entertainment or information. As the young man made no demand for either, she kindly took the initiative. "Isn't it sad about the MacMurtrie baby? It's our last, you know. Mary Adams was sent for in the middle of the night, and ran a man down on her bike. Of course he had no right to be on the street at that hour, so he must have been a stranger; and he couldn't have been a Korean, because a Korean respects the curfew." "This is very bewildering. Why shouldn't I have been on the street?" He frankly admitted his fault, enlightenment seeming to afford some piquancy. "Oh, it was you! I must tell Mary." Nelly jumped off her perch. "No, I beg of you. You must tell me about the curfew. I don't want to get locked up. Come, sit down again. I may need another cup of tea." At sixteen to be thus entreated is conclusive. Nelly sat down again. "Now tell me about the curfew." "Don't you know? The poor dears are shut-up women. They can't go out in the daytime, for fear the men will look at them. So at night the men have to stay home and let them run about.” "Oh, I see. What a jolly thing for the women! Well, I won't offend again. It's too dangerous." "You mean Mary's bike? Ah, you're joking, and you looked so sober!" Nelly's tone was laden with reproach. "Hayton, where are you hiding? Mrs. Helyett wants you. Nelly, you mustn't monopolize him. He's all we've got;" and Leggett led the young man from his retreat. "I say, Leggett, who was the little girl?" "It's a good thing she didn't hear you call her a little girl. Isn't she a pickle? It is Nelly Blackburn. Her father is doing Romans into unmun." "She's one of the native born?" "Korean bred. These missionary children are a distinct breed. They're born into VOL. XXXVI.-37 the language. I've seen Nelly and her brother Jack exchange glances at our educated pronunciation. Nelly, I think, once asked Empress Min for a piece of bread and butter. Mrs. Helyett, here's your man. Hayton, make your manners." The MacMurtrie baby grew no better, and the Japanese multiplied. The women took turns at the MacMurtrie household, and the men, too, took upon themselves Calvin's duty. Meanwhile the ships an 345 |