Vanemuine sang of the glory of heaven and of the beauty of earth. He
sang of the flowing waters and of the rustling leaves. He sang of the
joys and the sorrows that come to all people, to children and parents,
to the rich and to the poor. If we listen to the songs sung to-day, with
open ears and expectant hearts, we may hear all that Vanemuine sang so
long ago upon the Hill of Taara.

When Vanemuine's songs had been heard by all the world, he rose on the
wings of the winds and went far into cloudland to his golden palace in
the sky. There he still sings his wonderful songs for those who are
greater than mankind.

To this very day the people of Finland think they can sometimes hear
Vanemuine's voice when the forest trees sigh in the wind, or the water
in the river softly laps against its rocky shore. Perhaps--who
knows?--we may hear him, too, if we listen well!




A BAG OF WINDS

_Greek_


"Oh, Grace, do see that man with all those little balloons! Don't they
look like a bunch of big cherries?"

"Yes, they do, Carrie, but cherries are all of one color, and some of
his balloons are red and some are blue. Oh, here is one that has burst.