Hangul Keyboard

A parcel arrived from Seoul the cow, who was visiting her cousins in Korea. Inside was a postcard covered in neat little squares of shapes.

"Is it a puzzle?" asked Little Thunder.

"It's Korean writing," said Suzy. "It's called Hangul. Seoul says each square is a syllable block, built from letters."

Spike peered closer. "Letters that join together, like building blocks?"

"Exactly." Suzy pointed to a shape like a corner. "This letter, shaped like the number seven, makes a G or K sound. And this one, a short line with a tick, makes an A sound. Put them side by side in one block, and you get ga."

Little Thunder tried it with his hoof in the dust. "Ga! I wrote Korean!"

They found the farm's old laptop. Seoul had sent instructions to switch on the Hangul keyboard. The letters were printed on the keys, and when you typed them in order, they snapped together into blocks all by themselves.

Spike typed a round circle, then a line. The screen made one block. "Look, it built itself!"

Suzy read the last line on Seoul's postcard. "She wants us to type nabi. It means butterfly."

They worked it out together. The N letter looked like a corner. Add A. That was one block. Then a B letter shaped like a little box with two handles, and a tall straight line for I beside it. Second block.

Little Thunder pressed the last key. Two neat blocks sat on the screen. 나비.

Just then, a yellow butterfly fluttered through the open window and landed on the laptop.

"Nabi!" everyone shouted.

That night, they typed a reply to Seoul, one careful block at a time. It said thank you.