Tales of a Korean Grandmother Read Online Free Page B
Author: Frances Carpenter
know that he had become a man. There would be feasts for the Ancestors and for the family and friends who came to congratulate him.
If anyone had asked Yong Tu why a topknot was so important, he would have just looked surprised and would have answered, "It is the custom." That was reason enough in this land of Korea where people had followed the ways of their ancestors for more than four thousand years.
WHY THE DOG
AND
THE CAT
ARE
NOT FRIENDS
O NE warm autumn afternoon sounds of barking from the Outer Court drifted to the veranda where Ok Cha was helping her grandmother sort pine seeds for the New Year cakes.
"I have a riddle for you, Halmoni," the little girl said.
"My ears are open, Jade Child," the old woman replied, smiling fondly down upon her favorite granddaughter.
"Here it is then. Who in this house first goes forth to welcome the coming guest?"
"Would it be your father, the Master of our House?" Halmoni asked thoughtfully, pretending she had never heard this old riddle before.
"No, Halmoni, it would not be Abuji. The Master of this House greets his guests only when they have entered the Outer Court." Ok Cha was delighted because her grandmother did not guess the answer at once.
"Would it be Pak, the gatekeeper?" Halmoni asked, wrinkling her smooth, old, ivory-colored brow, as if she were puzzled.
"Oh no, Halmoni. Shall I tell you? Well, it is Dog!"
"To be sure it is Dog." The Korean grandmother nodded her dark head. "Dog is the true gatekeeper of our house."
Most of the day, and even at night, this shaggy shepherd, which everyone inside the Kim courts called "Dog," lay half way through the doghole cut in the bottom of the bamboo gate. With his head thrust through the opening, he was the first to see and give warning of approaching visitors.
Dog took his duties as gatekeeper much more seriously than old Pak, who slept most of the time in the door of the servants' houses just inside the gate. Of course, now and then he went out into the street to hunt bits of food that might have been thrown out there by the neighbors. Or he sometimes left his post to bark at a bird or to chase a stray cat.
It was this last pastime that brought Dog now racing through the Middle Gate and into the Inner Court. Around the tall pottery water jars went the black cat with the brown dog at her tail. Over and under the seesaw they flew, and into the corner where Yong Tu and his cousins were busy making kites for the New Year flying.
"Wori! Wori! Dog, come here," Yong Tu called severely. And the boy joined in the chase, finally catching the excited dog by the neck and holding him tight until the black cat got away to safety in the Garden of Green Gems, beyond the women's houses.
These children did not have much sympathy for the cat, but Yong Tu was afraid the animals might spoil his precious kite-making materials which were spread out on the ground. The Kims liked Dog because he was such a good watchman. But he was in no way an indoor pet like the dogs of Western lands. This black cat, which often crept over their wall, was very wild. Once Ok Cha had tried to pet it, but the cat would only growl, spit at her, and scratch.
"Why do dogs and cats fight so, Halmoni?" the little girl asked, looking up from her tray of pine seeds.
"My grandmother used to tell me a story about that," Halmoni said. "And I'll tell it to you." Somehow Yong Tu and his cousins must have guessed their grandmother was beginning a story. Before she was well started, they had brought their papers, their bamboo sticks, and their glue-pots and set up their little kite factory at her feet.
"The dog and the cat in my tale lived in a small wineshop on the bank of a broad river beside a ferry, my children. Old Koo, the shopkeeper, had neither wife nor child. In his little hut he lived by himself except for this dog and this cat. The tame beasts never left his side. While he sold wine in the shop, the dog kept guard at the door and the cat caught mice in the
If anyone had asked Yong Tu why a topknot was so important, he would have just looked surprised and would have answered, "It is the custom." That was reason enough in this land of Korea where people had followed the ways of their ancestors for more than four thousand years.
WHY THE DOG
AND
THE CAT
ARE
NOT FRIENDS
O NE warm autumn afternoon sounds of barking from the Outer Court drifted to the veranda where Ok Cha was helping her grandmother sort pine seeds for the New Year cakes.
"I have a riddle for you, Halmoni," the little girl said.
"My ears are open, Jade Child," the old woman replied, smiling fondly down upon her favorite granddaughter.
"Here it is then. Who in this house first goes forth to welcome the coming guest?"
"Would it be your father, the Master of our House?" Halmoni asked thoughtfully, pretending she had never heard this old riddle before.
"No, Halmoni, it would not be Abuji. The Master of this House greets his guests only when they have entered the Outer Court." Ok Cha was delighted because her grandmother did not guess the answer at once.
"Would it be Pak, the gatekeeper?" Halmoni asked, wrinkling her smooth, old, ivory-colored brow, as if she were puzzled.
"Oh no, Halmoni. Shall I tell you? Well, it is Dog!"
"To be sure it is Dog." The Korean grandmother nodded her dark head. "Dog is the true gatekeeper of our house."
Most of the day, and even at night, this shaggy shepherd, which everyone inside the Kim courts called "Dog," lay half way through the doghole cut in the bottom of the bamboo gate. With his head thrust through the opening, he was the first to see and give warning of approaching visitors.
Dog took his duties as gatekeeper much more seriously than old Pak, who slept most of the time in the door of the servants' houses just inside the gate. Of course, now and then he went out into the street to hunt bits of food that might have been thrown out there by the neighbors. Or he sometimes left his post to bark at a bird or to chase a stray cat.
It was this last pastime that brought Dog now racing through the Middle Gate and into the Inner Court. Around the tall pottery water jars went the black cat with the brown dog at her tail. Over and under the seesaw they flew, and into the corner where Yong Tu and his cousins were busy making kites for the New Year flying.
"Wori! Wori! Dog, come here," Yong Tu called severely. And the boy joined in the chase, finally catching the excited dog by the neck and holding him tight until the black cat got away to safety in the Garden of Green Gems, beyond the women's houses.
These children did not have much sympathy for the cat, but Yong Tu was afraid the animals might spoil his precious kite-making materials which were spread out on the ground. The Kims liked Dog because he was such a good watchman. But he was in no way an indoor pet like the dogs of Western lands. This black cat, which often crept over their wall, was very wild. Once Ok Cha had tried to pet it, but the cat would only growl, spit at her, and scratch.
"Why do dogs and cats fight so, Halmoni?" the little girl asked, looking up from her tray of pine seeds.
"My grandmother used to tell me a story about that," Halmoni said. "And I'll tell it to you." Somehow Yong Tu and his cousins must have guessed their grandmother was beginning a story. Before she was well started, they had brought their papers, their bamboo sticks, and their glue-pots and set up their little kite factory at her feet.
"The dog and the cat in my tale lived in a small wineshop on the bank of a broad river beside a ferry, my children. Old Koo, the shopkeeper, had neither wife nor child. In his little hut he lived by himself except for this dog and this cat. The tame beasts never left his side. While he sold wine in the shop, the dog kept guard at the door and the cat caught mice in the
Readers choose
Michael Chatfield
Delilah Devlin
Julia Crane
Cathy Cole
Sonja Yoerg
Carl Hiaasen
TERESA HILL
D. Hamilton-Reed
Joshua Cohen