I was hunting for it everywhere after tea and couldn't find it. It feels wet! How funny! Has anybody been out in it?" "Give it to Alice and ask her to put it by the kitchen fire to dry. Father wants to hear that Devon folksong you're learning. It will do you good to have a little music after such hard brain-work." Merle marched into school next morning joking about her fortune.

The gipsies have struck up a melancholy Magyar folksong; the crowd breaks up in isolated groups, mothers and fathers with their sons whisper in the dark corners of the barn. The father who did his service thirty years ago gives sundry good advice no rebellion, quiet obedience, no use complaining or grumbling, the three years are quickly over.

Among his sadder songs, the "Irish Folksong," "I'm Wearing Awa'," and the weird "In a Bower" are heavy with deepest pathos, while "Sweet Is True Love" is as wildly intense and as haunting in its woe as the fate of the poor Elaine, whose despair it sings. This I count one of the most appealing of modern songs. ARTHUR FOOTE, Op. 10, No. 1.

It was a fine song, with something of the melancholy sweetness of a folksong, and it filled the little bee's heart with mingled happiness and sadness. Softly flows the lovely stream Touched by morning's rosy gleam Through the alders darted, Where the rushes bend and sway, Where the water-lilies say "We are golden-hearted!"

That night he lurked once more in the shrubbery. He had been there nearly every night, hopeful that Suzanne would pass again, but not until tonight did she come. The tall figure, swathed almost to the eyes in a heavy cloak, came down the terrace to the walk, and John whistled low a note of a French folksong.

In the old West country balladThe Golden VanityorThe Lowland’s Low,” the boy who saves the ship from the Spanish pirate galleon is promised as a rewardsilver and gold, with the skipper’s pretty little daughter who lives upon the shore.” Similarly in the well-known folksongThe Farmer’s Boy,” the lad who comes weary and lame to the farmer’s door, seeking work, eventually marries the farmer’s daughter and inherits the farm.

Presently, however, he said: "Let us begin another!" He must certainly have found it a very agreeable pastime to say that. It was this time a skein of silk that the little lady wanted to have unwound. This was a still higher symbol of tenderness. Not in vain does the folksong sing of the captive of love being bound with silken chains.

Our guests sang a great deal in the tender minor of the German folksong or in the rousing spirit of the Rhine, and they slowly but persistently pursued a course in German history and literature, recovering something of that poetry and romance which they had long since resigned with other good things.

The minor key in which the Sclavonic folksong was usually couched, together with its extraordinary variety of rhythm and phrase, protected it from this monotony, the minor keys having infinitely richer resources of colour, even when strictly diatonically treated, than the major.