ne hand in
his garment, pulled out the Korean flag, the possession of which is a
crime. Waving the flag, he cried out, "Give us back our country. May Korea
live forever. Mansei!"

All the boys jumped up from their seats, each one pulling out a flag from
under his coat and waved it, calling, "Mansei! Mansei! Mansei!" They tore
up their precious certificates, in front of the now horrified guests, threw
them on the ground, and trooped out.

At nine o'clock that Wednesday morning there was a great demonstration of
students and high school girls around the palace. The girls had planned out
their part ahead. A big crowd gathered around. Then a large force of police
rushed on them, with drawn swords, knocking down, beating and arresting,
lads and girls alike. The girls were treated as roughly as the men. Over
four hundred, including one hundred girl students, were taken to the police
station that morning. What happened to the girls there, I tell in a later
chapter. Fifteen nurse-probationers of the Severance Hospital, one of the
most famous missionary hospitals in the Far East, hurried out with bandages
to bind up the wounded. The police took them in custody also. They were
severely examined, to find if the foreigners had instigated them to take
part in the demonstrations, but were released the same afternoon.

As Prince Yi was returning from the ex-Emperor's funeral that afternoon, a
group of twenty literati approached his carriage and attempted to present a
petition. They were stopped by the police. A petition was sent by the
literati to the Governor-General; the delegates were told to take it to the
police office. Here they were arrested.

Two of the most famous nobles in the land, Viscount Kim and Viscount Li,
sent a dignified petition to the Governor-General, begging him to listen to
the people, and deploring the severe measures taken to suppress the
demonstrations. Viscount Kim was senior peer, head of the Confucian
College, and had ever been a friend of Japan. As far back as 1866, he had
run the risk of death by urging the King to open the country to outside
nations and to conclude a treaty with Japan. The Japanese had made him one
of their new Korean peerage. He was now eighty-five, feeble and bedridden.
The protest of himself and his fellow senior was measured, polished, moved
with a deep sympathy for the people, but with nothing in it to which the
Governor-General should have taken offence.

The Japanese treatmen