That night Orpheus led the birds and beasts all back to the places where he had found them, and went home to live once more in his cave in Thrace.
For years hunters told, over their camp-fires, strange stories of a tiger and a lion who lived together in the deep forest; of a wild cat with eyes like a pet fawn; and of birds whose songs were so sweet that wild beasts grew tame as they listened.
Sometimes, even in these days, it seems as if Orpheus were singing again.
When the wind stirs, there comes sweet music. The pine trees sigh, the leaves and branches of the forest trees dance as in the days when Orpheus first went into the woods of Thrace.
When the south wind blows, earth's voices become low and sweet, and the birds sing soft melodies to greet its coming.
Old books tell us that Orpheus was really the south wind itself.
[THE LITTLE WIND-GOD]
Greek
"What is it in the thermometer that shines so, mother?"
"Oh, that is quicksilver, Ethel. See the line of silver run up the tube while I hold it in my hand."