On the low, grassy hills of Jugoslavia, shepherds have lounged for centuries, watching the smoke curl up from far-away villages and amusing themselves with strange, melancholy songs, gentle and careless as their flocks. To peasants who have often heard these songs, sounding far away and faint through a whole summer night or winding along the high paths in the twilight, they remain the most pervasive of all music. One such peasant is famed Michael Idvorsky Pupin, who long ago immigrated to the U. S. to become an electrical engineer and professor of mechanics...
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