come to the shoes. Those used by the better classes are made of hide, and
have either leather soles with nails underneath, or else wooden soles
like the Chinese ones with the turned-up toes. The real Corean shoe,
however, as used every day for walking and not for show, is truly a
peculiar one. The principal peculiarity about it is that it is made of
paper; which sounds like a lie, though indeed it is not. Another
extraordinary thing is that you can really walk in them. If you do not
believe it, all you have to do is to take the first steamer to Corea and
you can easily convince yourself of the fact. The greater part of the
population wears them, and the _Mapus_ especially walk enormous distances
in them. They are scarcely real shoes, however, and one should, perhaps,
classify them rather as a cross between a shoe and a sandal, for that is
just what they are. The toes are protected by numberless little strings
of curled untearable paper, which, when webbed, make the sole, heel, and
back of the sandal, and this is joined to the point of the shoe by a
stouter cord going right round, which is also made of the same kind of
twisted paper. This cord can be fastened tighter or looser to suit the
convenience of the wearer of the sandal-shoe.

The Corean is an unfortunate being. He has no pockets. If his hands are
cold he must warm them by sticking them down his belt into his trousers,
and if he be in company with people, he can generate a certain amount of
heat by putting each into the other arm's sleeve. As for the money,
tobacco, &c, that he wants to carry, he is compelled to provide himself
with little silk bags, which he attaches to his waist-band or to the
ribbon of his coat. These bags are generally of orange colour or blue,
and they relieve a little the monotony of the everlasting white dresses.

The clothing, so far as I have described it, is, with the exception of
the shoes, that which is worn habitually in the house by the better