We had tea, yesterday, at Keila Joa, as guests of Mrs. Selter, wife of the Minister of Economic Affairs. This place is about twenty miles from Tallinn and is the former estate of a Russian Count, by name, I believe, Wolkonsky. His former castle is now the home of Dr. Akel, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and the government has built a number of good-looking two-story modern villas for the use of Judges and Cabinet officers in the large grounds, and has surrounded it all with a high wall.

For this act of exclusiveness it has been laughed at and criticized by all the Estonian newspapers. “What!” they exclaim. “Count Wolkonsky himself was more democratic than these new rulers of ours that we ourselves put into office! For he built no wall about his private estate, but our reform government has built a wall about our public estate.

How high these government officials have grown, and how timid!”

Our hostess was quite a magnificient-looking young woman, tall, blond, and deeply dimpled. Except for these dimples and her modern clothes she was the Venus di Milo come to life. Her husband was a factory worker and she was a dentist before their marriage. Even now, when he occupies an important government post, she still practices her profession on certain days of the week, and is at the same time making a name for herself as a sculptor.

Over her pleasant tea-table, she and the other women told me eagerly of a new plan they had put up to the government and that had just been approved. It was a plan for vacation homes for the mothers of families. They had decided to establish four of them, one in each corner of the country. Each home will have a creche, a nursery-school, and a kindergarten, where such children as must come with their mothers can be taken care of while the mothers get a much-needed rest. Those who can afford it will be asked to pay the actual cost of the food they consume; but others will receive the same benefits free of charge. * * * * *

Babies splashing in a wading pool set in a pavement inlaid with Mother Goose and Mickey Mouse pictures, mothers knitting and chatting on near-by benches, a pretty playhouse for retreat in rainy weather - this is the scene that greeted us at one end of the tallinn Public Playground. At the other end was a large playhouse for older children, with a cinema, an assembly room with a fire place and many tables and chairs, a kitchen in the alcove all full at this moment of the pleasant odors of hot chocolate and fresh-baked cookies.

In between these two playhouses was the beautiful park Peter the Great had made for his wife Catherine’s summer palace, now the White House of Estonia. Among the green lawns, flower-bordered, set with great trees, are two new swimming pools - a middle-sized swimming pool for the middle-sized children, and a great big swimming pool for the great big children. The Director, when he came to greet us, looked too good to be true - or at least he looked too perfect, personally and sartorially, to stand the job of running a playground with an attendance of 500 children a day - 500 of all ages, with a lot of vim and a lot of space at their disposal! He was dressed in white flannels with a gray flannel coat, a white tie with gay little figures of athletes on it, and white shoes. Not a speck anywhere, not a pale gold hair out of place, not a line or blemish in his rosy complexion. he looked too young, too like a movie idol, for the part; but it presently transpired that, for all his good looks, he had prepared for his job by nine years of teaching and a special course in playground work at Tartu University!

“I hear you have many fine play-grounds in America,” he said, when introduced; “I hope to go there sometime when I can speak better English. You must have many things to teach me.”

“I think you have much to teach us,” I said. “Nowhere in America have I seen such a beautiful and perfectly-equipped playgound.” He beamed. So did Miss Kirsipuu, both modestly trying to conceal their pride.

“Don’t you think we have rather good order here?” she asked, “as well as lots of fun?”

“The credit for good order must go to my fifteen able assistants,” he added.

“How is it paid for, and who is responsible for the selection of the teachers?” I asked. “It is a project of the Youth Sports Society,” he replied. “They select the teachers, and are responsible for the administration of the playground; but they are financially assisted by the municipality.” He went on to tell me that he was planning a winter program of skating, movies, concerts, and indoor games, so the youngsters could have supervised play the year around. The Society is also planning a new stadium next to the park, between it and Catherine’s palace. (To be continued)

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