Off in a valley among very stony mountains, lived an old farmer named
Pak We and his wife. His land was poor and he had to toil from sunrise
to sunset and often in the night, when the moon was shining, to get
food. No child had ever come to his home and he was in too great
straits of poverty to adopt a son. So he took his amusement in fishing
in the pond higher up on the hills, that fed the stream which watered
his millet and rice fields. Being very skilful he often caught a good
string of fish and these he sold in the village near by to get for
himself and his wife the few comforts they needed. Thus the old couple
kept themselves happy, despite their cheerless life, though they often
wondered what would become of them when they got too old to work.
But one summer Pak noticed that there were fewer fish in the pond and
that every day they seemed to be less in number. Where he used to catch
a stringful in an hour, he could hardly get half that many during a
whole day.
What was the matter? Was he getting less skilful? Was the bait poor?
Not at all! His worms were as fat, his hooks and lines in as good
order, and his eyesight was as keen as ever.
When Pak noticed also that the water was getting shallower, he was
startled. Could it be that the pond was drying up?
Things grew worse day by day until at last there were no fish.
Where once sparkled the wavelets of a pond was now an arid waste of
earth and stones, over which trickled hardly more than a narrow rill,
which he could jump over. No fish and no pond meant no water for his
rice fields. In horror at the idea of starving, or having to move away
from his old home and become a pauper, Pak looked down from what had
been the banks of the pond to find the cause of all this trouble. There
in the mud among the pebbles he saw a bullfrog, nearly as big as an
elephant, blinking at him with its huge round eyes.
In a rage the farmer Pak burst out, charging the frog with cruelty in
eating up all the fish and drinking up all the water, threatening
starvation to man and wife. Then Pak proceeded to curse the whole line
of the frog’s ancestors and relatives, especially in the female line,
for eight generations back, as Koreans usually do.
But instead of being sorry, or showing any anger at such a scolding,
the bullfrog only blinked and bowed, saying:
“Don’t worry, Farmer Pak. You’ll be glad of it, by and by. Besides, I
want to go home with you and live in your house.
“What! Occupy my home, you clammy reptile! No you won’t,” said Pak.
“Oh! but I have news to tell you and you won’t be sorry, for you see
what I can do. Better take me in.”
Old Pak thought it over. How should he face his wife with such a guest?
But then, the frog had news to tell and that might please the old lady,
who was fond of gossip. Since her husband was not very talkative, she
might be willing to harbor so strange a guest.
So they started down the valley. Pak shuffled along as fast as his old
shins could move, but the bullfrog covered the distance in a few leaps,
for his hind legs were three feet long.
Arrived at his door, Mrs. Pak was horrified at the prospect of boarding
such a guest. But when the husband told her that Froggie knew all about
everybody and could chat interestingly by the hour, she changed her
manner and bade him welcome. Indeed, she so warmed in friendliness that
she gave him one of her best rooms. All the leaves, grass and brushwood
that had been gathered in the wood-shed to supply the kitchen fire and
house flues, was carried into the room. There it was doused with tubs
of water to make a nice soft place such as bullfrogs like. After this
he was fed all the worms he wanted.
Then after his dinner and a nap, Mrs. Pak and Mr. Pak donned their best
clothes and went in to make a formal call on their guest.
Mr. Bullfrog was so affable and charming in conversation, besides
telling so many good stories and serving up so many dainty bits of
gossip, that Mrs. Pak was delighted beyond expression. Indeed, she felt
almost like adopting Froggie as her son.
The night passed quietly away, but when the first rays of light
appeared, Froggie was out on the porch singing a most melodious tune to
the rising sun. When Mr. and Mrs. Pak rose up to greet their guest and
to hear his song, they were amazed to find that the music was bringing
them blessings. Everything they had wished for, during their whole
lives, seemed now at hand, with more undreamed of coming in troops. In
the yard stood oxen, donkeys and horses loaded with every kind of box,
bale and bundle waiting to be unloaded and more were coming; stout men
porters appeared and began to unpack, while troops of lovely girls in
shining white took from the men’s hands beautiful things made of jade,
gold and silver. There were fine clothes and hats for Mr. Pak,
jade-tipped hairpins, tortoise-shell and ivory combs, silk gowns,
embroidered and jeweled girdles and every sort of frocks and woman’s
garments for Mrs. Pak, besides inlaid cabinets, clothes-racks and
wardrobes. Above all, was a polished metal mirror that looked like the
full autumn moon, over which Mrs. Pak was now tempted to spend every
minute of her time.
Four or five of the prettiest maidens they had ever seen in all their
lives danced, sang and played sweetest music. The unpacking of boxes,
bales and bundles continued. Tables of jade and finest sandalwood were
spread with the richest foods and wines. Soon, under the skilful hands
of carpenters and decorators, instead of oiled paper on the floors,
covering old bricks and broken flat stones set over the flues, and
smoky rafters and mud walls poorly papered, there rose a new house. It
had elegant wide halls, and large rooms with partitions made of
choicest joiner work. It was furnished with growing flowers, game
boards for chess and had everything in it like a palace. As for the
riches of the larder and the good things to eat daily laid on the
table, no pen but a Korean’s can tell of them all. In the new
storehouse were piles of dried fish, edible seaweed, bags of rice, bins
of millet, tubs of kim-chi made of various sorts of the pepper-hash and
Korean hot pickle in which the natives delight, to say nothing of
peaches, pears, persimmons, chestnuts, honey, barley, sugar, candy,
cake and pastry, all arranged in high piles and in gay colors.
The old couple seemed able to eat and enjoy twice as big dinners as
formerly, for all the while the adopted Bullfrog was very entertaining.
Mr. and Mrs. Pak laughed continually, declaring they had never heard
such good stories as he told. The good wife was, however, quite equal
to her guest in retailing gossip. One of her favorite subjects, of
which she never tired, was the beauty and charm of Miss Peach. She was
the accomplished daughter of the big Yang-ban, or nobleman, Mr. Poom,
who lived in a great house, with a host of servants and retainers in
the next village, and Mrs. Pak insisted there was no young woman in the
world like her. It was noticed that Mr. Bullfrog was particularly
interested when Miss Peach Poom was the subject of the old lady’s
praises.
After a week of such luxury, during which Mr. and Mrs. Pak seemed to
dwell in the Nirvana, or Paradise, which the good priests often talked
about, Mr. Pak’s full cup of joy was dashed to earth when the Bullfrog
informed him that he intended to marry, and that Mr. Pak must get him a
wife. Still worse than that, Pak was informed by the Frog that he would
have no one but Miss Peach, the daughter of Poom, so renowned for her
beauty and graces.
At this, old Pak went nearly wild. He begged to be excused from the
task, but the Bullfrog was inexorable. So, after inprecating his wife’s
tongue, for her ever putting it into the frog’s head to marry Miss
Peach, he donned his fine clothes and set out to see Mr. Poom. He
expected to be beaten to death for his brazen effrontery in asking a
noble lady to marry a frog.
Now this Mr. Poom had long been the magistrate of a district, who had
squeezed much money wrongly from the poor people over whom he ruled,
and having won great wealth, had retired and come back to his native
place to live. This man had two daughters married, but the third, the
youngest and most beautiful, Miss Peach, was now eighteen years old.
Arriving at the Pooms’ grand mansion, Mr. Pak told of the suitor’s
wealth, power and fame, high position and promise, and how he had made
the old couple happy.
Old Poom had pricked up his ears from the first mention of riches and
power, and became highly interested as Pak went on sounding the praises
of his prospective son-in-law.
“And what is his name?” asked Mr. Poom.
Here Pak was in a quandary. He knew that the frog family was the oldest
and most numerous in the world and was famous for fine voices. He fell
into a brown study for a few minutes. Then, looking up he declared that
he had so long thought of the suitor’s graces and accomplishments, that
he had forgotten his name and could not then recall it.
So Mr. Poom, in order to help Pak out, ran over the list of famous
families in Korea, reciting the names of the Kims, Sims, Mins, the Hos,
Chos, Kos, Quongs and Hongs, etc., etc., for Mr. Poom was an authority
on the Korean peerage.
“It is none of these,” said Pak. “I deeply regret that I cannot recall
the name.”
“Strange,” said Mr. Poom. “I have named all the families of any
standing in the kingdom. What is his office or rank and where do his
relations live?”
Pak was pressed so hard by Mr. Poom’s searching questions that at last
he had to confess that the suitor for the beautiful maiden was not a
man but a frog.
“What! do you want me to marry my daughter to a pond-croaker? You shall
suffer for thus insulting me in my own house. Slaves, bring the
cross-bench and give this wretch twenty blows.”
Forthwith, while four men brought out the whipping bench, three others
seized poor Pak, stripped off his coat, and bound him with feet and
arms stretched out to the bench. Then a tall, stalwart fellow raised
the huge paddle of wood to let fall with all his might on the bare
flesh of the old man.
But all this while the sky was darkening, and, before the first blow
was given, the lightning flashed, the thunder rolled, and floods of
rain fell that threatened to overwhelm house, garden, and all in a
deluge. The hail, which began to pelt the cattle, was first the size of
an egg and then of stones, like cannon-balls.
“Hold,” cried the frightened Mr. Poom. “I’ll wait and ask further.”
Thereupon the lightning and thunder ceased, the sun burst out in
splendor.
Mightily impressed by this, Mr. Poom at last agreed to let his daughter
become the bride of the frog, not telling her who her husband was to
be. Within an hour, while she was getting ready, a string of fine
horses and donkeys with palanquins loaded with presents for the bride
and her family appeared. Besides boxes of silk dresses and perfumes,
head-gear and articles for a lady’s boudoir, there were troops of
maidens to wait on the bride. Arraying Miss Peach in the loveliest of
robes, they also dressed her hair, until, what with satin puffs and
frame, jade-tipped silver hairpins, rosettes and flowers, her head-gear
stood over a foot high above her forehead, on which was the bride’s red
round spot. Then when the happy maiden had sufficiently admired herself
in the metal mirror and heard the praises of her attendant virgins, she
entered the bridal palanquin—a gorgeous mass of splendor. According to
custom, her eyes were sealed shut and covered with wax, for a Korean
bride sees nothing of her husband until the end of the feast, when she
meets him in the bridal chamber.
So to his house she was carried in great pomp and with gay attendance
of brilliantly arrayed maidens. The marriage ceremony and the grand
supper were happy affairs for all the guests, even though the bride,
according to Korean etiquette, was as if blind, quietly and patiently
waiting sightless throughout the whole joyful occasion. The actual
ceremony was witnessed only by the foster-parents and the bridegroom.
When in the bridal chamber, the bride having unsealed her eyes, and her
vision being clear, she looked up at the one she had married and found
not a man, but a frog, she was furiously angry. She burst out into a
protest against having such a bridegroom.
Gently and in tenderest tones the bridegroom attempted first to comfort
her. Then, handing her a pair of scissors, he begged her to rip open
the skin along his back from shoulder to thigh, for it was very tight
and he was suffering pain from it.
In her bitter disappointment at being married to a frog, she seized the
scissors and almost viciously began to cut from nape to waist. Her
surprise was great to find what seemed to be silk underneath the
speckled skin. When she had slit down two yards or so, her husband the
frog stood upon his hind legs. He twisted himself about as if in a
convulsion, pulled his whole speckled hide hard with his front paws,
and then jumping out of his skin, stood before his bride a prince.
Fair, tall, of superb figure, and gorgeously arrayed, he was the ideal
of her dreams. A jeweled baldric bound his waist, embroidery of golden
dragons on his shoulders and breast told of his rank, while on his head
was the cap of royalty with a sparkling diamond in the center. Yet no
clothes, handsome as they were, could compare in beauty with his
glorious manhood. Never had she seen so fair a mortal.
Happy was the bride whose feelings were thus changed in a moment from
repulsion and horror to warmest affection and strongest veneration. The
next morning when, to the amazement of his foster-father and mother,
Mr. and Mrs. Pak, the prince presented himself and his bride at
breakfast, he told the story of his life. As son of the King of the
Stars he had committed some offense, in punishment for which his father
condemned him to live upon the earth in the form of a frog. Furthermore
he had laid upon his son the duty of performing three tasks. These must
be done before he should be allowed to come back and live in Star Land.
These were, to drink up all the water in the lake, to eat all the fish,
and to win a human bride, the handsomest woman in the world.
All the precious things which he had presented to Pak and his wife to
make their old days comfortable, and the gifts sent to the bride’s
house before her wedding-day, had come by power from the skies. Now,
leaving his foster-parents on earth to enjoy their gifts, he must
return home to his father, taking his bride with him. Scarcely had he
spoken these words than a chariot and horses, silver bright, appeared
at the door of the house. Bowing low to his foster-parents, and
stepping in with his bride, the pair disappeared beyond the clouds.
From this time forth a new double star was seen in the sky.