The Face of Manchuria, Korea, & Russian Turkestan by Emily Georgiana Kemp

The journey from Seoul to Fusan is through lovely cultivated land, everywhere varied by hill scenery, of which it has been estimated that three-fourths of Korea consists. The largest proportion of grain cultivated is rice, but wheat, barley, beans, millet, and other cereals grow equally well. It is truly a land flowing with milk and honey, has a beautiful climate, and if well governed ought to be most happy and prosperous. It is not subject to earthquakes, nor to any other great disasters, such as floods and plagues. Last year, it is true, cholera broke out in Seoul, but by the splendid exertions of the Japanese it was quickly brought under control with small loss of life.

As we travelled southward the land gradually became greener and the fruit-trees showed their delicate blossoms. Over the willows there was a delicate film of green, and the pink azaleas on the hill-sides glowed in the evening light. The journey of twenty hours seemed long, however, for we were travelling in an American car, and it taxed the ingenuity even of the small and supple Japanese officers, who were our fellow-travellers, to make themselves comfortable in the first-class carriage. The attendant brought slippers all round, and when the officers had divested themselves of their boots and unrolled their rugs and eiderdowns, it became an interesting study to see them try to accommodate their forms to the small seats for two. As they found a resting-place for their heads, their feet crept up to the window-panes, or had to curl up like a spring. Happy the man who can sleep undisturbed in such quarters, with the constant noise of slamming doors and traffic passing through the car, which is the American ideal of railway comfort!