So it comes to pass, that many a time when nations, due to wars and wanderings and vast passings of time, have forgotten their origins, the singing of a song will bring back the fact of some far distant relationship. One day a party of Bretons, in 1758 (long after the Welsh and Bretons had forgotten they were of the same race), were marching to give battle to some Welsh troops that had descended upon the French coast. As the Welsh soldiers marched forward, the Bretons were amazed to hear their enemies singing one of their own national songs! They were so surprised and so overcome with sympathy that the Bretons joined in and sang with the Welsh. Both commanders, speaking the same language, gave the order “Fire!” But neither side would or could fire. Instead, the soldiers dropped their weapons, broke ranks and in wild enthusiasm greeted each other as long lost friends. The song they sang is probably seven hundred years old or older. (1) SONGS OF CHILDHOOD, GAMES AND CRADLE SONGS From the day of the obelisk to the day of the radio, every baby that has ever been born has been put to sleep to the soothing sound of the mother’s song. The Greek mother sang to her baby, Come, Sleep! come, Sleep! Take him away. Come, Sleep, and make him slumber. Carry him to the vineyard of the Aga, To the Garden of the Aga, The Aga will give him grapes; his wife, roses; his servant, pancakes. Many early lullabies were sung in honor of the infant Jesus, which really gives them a very blesséd beginning. It is related by a Sicilian poet “When the Madunazza (mother) was mending St. Joseph’s clothes, the Bambineddu (Bambino—the Infant Jesus) cried in his cradle, because no one was attending to Him. So the Archangel Raphael came and rocked Him and said these sweet little words to Him, ‘Lullaby, Jesus, Son of Mary.’” The Indians, too, sang lullabies, for you know the squaw is a gentle soul and takes beautiful care of her papoose. The Chippewas think of sleep as a big insect and they have named him Weeng. Weeng comes down from the top of a tree where he is busy making a buzzing noise with his wings and puts you to sleep by sending many little fairies to you who beat your head with tiny clubs! We all know our own _Bye, Baby Bunting_, _Father’s Gone a Hunting_, etc., and _Rockabye Baby on the Tree Top_. The Germans, whose children songs and lullabies are so lovely, have the familiar _Schlaf, Kindlein, Schlaf!_ It is a sweet name the Italians give their lullaby, the _ninne-nanne_! And the mothers in Lyons, France, call sleep _souin-souin_ and have a charming little song: Le Poupon voudrait bien do(r)mir; Le souin-souin ne peu pas venir. Souin-souin, vené, vené, vené; Souin-souin, vené, vené, vené!