But we know that the songs were there and that they gave to little lives the opportunity of being big. We find it hard to realize how important they were, now that telegraph wires have connected all parts of the world, when a message can be sent from San Francisco to Moscow and back in a day, when all that has happened the world over (and much besides) is spread out before us on paper at our breakfast tables the next morning, when all knowledge is classified and published and can be found in any good public library. Imagine yourself living in a village or working on a farm without these things. It is a day’s walk to the next village. The next country lies beyond the mountains and there are no passes over, and besides there would be no way of living if you left your work, unless you went as a pilgrim. Every year a few young men wander away seeking their fortunes and never come back. Every year a few men come seeking their fortunes and stay. One or two men have wandered the world and come back home, telling wonderful incoherent tales of what happens beyond the mountains. But this is all the news you get beyond the gossip of your town and the country around--except that once in a while comes a wandering minstrel or juggler with tricks and songs. He will tell you the political fortunes of the next kingdom and whether its king is likely to go to war with your king and whether you will thus be forced to serve in the army. He will tell you the gossip and scandal of the courts. He will tell you the customs of other people and will give you practical hints that may save you trouble in your work. And, best of all, he will tell you new stories to vary the monotony of the village gossip. So you will spend a wonderful afternoon listening to him in the village square, and when he is gone you will have something to think and talk about for weeks to come.