opportunity of becoming as familiar with Grieg's Nocturne as they are with Old Black Joe. Children can dance to the music of the phonograph, sing to it, play to it, write to it, learn songs and stories through it; from it learn the voices of artists and instruments in solo and combination; it can be a means of illustrating the nature lesson; can give the students an insight through the expression of a people into their customs and peculiarities. But more than this, the phonograph can create within the children the power to love and understand the beauty and meaning of music.

Of no small importance is the phonograph in the home. A vast number who have been deprived of the wholesome and refining influence of music in their immediate environment may now have that influence conveniently within their reach through the medium of the phonograph. This medium can make for spiritual and physical well being. It can refresh the soul, dull the sharp edge of grief, relax overwrought And continuing with the same thought, the value of family group singing with the phonograph will always be healthful both to body

nerves.

and mind.

Though to exhaust the subject would fill a volume, some little, at least, should be said of the advantages of the instrument to the small child. From infancy the phonograph music makes a deep impression upon the child mind. Gradually a taste for the type of music heard most is built up. One cannot help but see the necessity then of carefully supervis

ing that material. The child very soon learns to discriminate. He hears a bird in this record, the bells in this, a violin plays in this one, and thunder roars in this. Gradually he hears more, perhaps two or three things in the same record, and then with a little guidance from the parents he can analyze the sounds to tell a story. It has been a source of wonderment to many musicians who have acquired a musical education, after long and serious study, to hear their little tots talking of the Il Trovatore Miserere of Schumann-Heink and Caruso and calling for the records as ones they prefer.

The little songs for imitation are a great resource for the busy mother or the less musical mother.

Good, simple instrumental music, strong in its rhythm not only builds up a splendid vocabulary of music for the child but also furnishes an opportunity for rhythmic expression. This phase of work is receiving more and more of the attention of educators of the day and should certainly be looked into by the mother. It is not only valuable for its rhythm

development but for the wholesome spirit of play. "Except ye play as a little child ye cannot enter into the kingdom of health."

It is hard to realize that this instrument of only a few years' development, at first condemned by the music-loving public and rejoiced in only by the less refined, could have developed so to become the great factor for good which it has become to the individual in the home, in the school, in the church, and in the community.

"It merely happened," he reiterated. "Whence the toggery?"

"You mean whither. Homeward," she answered sweetly.

"Little brute!" he muttered, continuing speculatively, "I suppose it would take some money to support a wife."

"That and some patience," she answered still more sweetly.

"I've been, short of the former ever since I lent Barker that ten to take you to the last ball with. Which happens to lead up to the real subject. Minnie Goldwaite has thrown me down. Will you play second fiddle at the dance tonight?"

She considered.

"You put it in such an unusually nice and frank, coarse manner," she said finally, "that I think I shall say yes. Besides, it isn't half an hour since I withdrew my promise to Will and I'd like him to realize that it's

"Oh! It's only your new clothes that makes me stand it!"

"They can do a lot, can't they?" she said with a smile. "And I've got a new dance frock too. Won't Will feel foolish to night!" "Poor Barker!" sighed Channing. He meant it.

And then it happened that Barker came around another corner. Millicent smiled divinely. Channing nodded coolly, and Barker scowled.

"And still we lift our hats to each other," said Channing, "out of respect to you who shouldn't be respected at all."

Millicent's nose was elevated.

"There ought to be a law allowing a man to give a woman who won't behave herself a sound beat

ing," he went on. "Have you a

choice of flowers? Black carnatiors beheld dance frock?" or green peas to set off the yet un

"Your taste is always perfect," she complimented. "The gown is pink. But it is really unnecessary to send any. Mr. Barker's are beautiful."

"As you say. It is only fair to Barker to wear his flowers since Miss Goldwaite will be wearing mine."

She regarded him swiftly from the side of her eyes.

"You did that very well," she said.

"Thank you," he answered. "For myself, I do not compliment. You need no such encouragement."

At which, her gate being reached, both bowed deeply and separated.

Barker behaved well during the third dance, but at the ninth his pent-up troubles overwhelmed him and he laid bare his simple soul like a grieved child.

"Twasn't only the not bringing you," he moaned, "but to put that flower thing on me besides!"

Millicent was interested in that flower thing.

"Tell me about it," she sympathized.

"We were all ready to go," he said, "when a special messenger brought his flowers with the kind of a note he knows how to write saying that, though she'd been cruel to him, he begged she'd wear them to show that their friendship wasn't at an end! Of course she took mine off and put his on."

"That was very wrong," Millicent pronounced. So he had hurried off to buy that elegant display after he had left her!

"Then he told me that Minnie liked me and expected me up tonight," he he continued wrathfully, "and she didn't expect me at all." "Do you mean to say-!" Millicent gasped. She couldn't finish. Barker nodded.

"It happened that way," he said ," he said with a sarcasm usually beyond him.

"Of all-" said Millicent. "But why did Minnie turn him adrift in the first place?"

"He said that dancing was a bore. Minnie got huffed and said that if he felt that way they'd better call tonight off."

The chain of events was fast closing into a circle.

"And the reason I was so nasty to you this afternoon was because he'd just told me that you'd rather go with him anyway. I followed you up to make it right, but he'd got in ahead of me."

The last part of that speech was lost upon Millicent. She was staring at him with snapping eyes.

"He said that I'd rather go with him?"

Barker noded again. This time casually. His soul was relieved, and consequently his feet were lighter.

"We're missing all the dance," he

said.

"I should think we are missing the dance," she flashed back. "Dance!"

"You aren't angry with me again, Millie?" pleaded the little man.

"No, no!" she said hastily, touching his coat sleeve lightly. "You're a nice lad, Billie."

Calmly, with long easy steps in that slow way of his, Channing crossed to them.

"This happens to be ours," he said smiling.

Millicent looked through him. "Are you free for this, Billie?" she asked. "We missed that last you know."

She saw Channing's face grow white and his lips set as they left him. Never mind. Let him devote the rest of the time to Miss Goldwaite. He had been with her most of it now. Did he think with such

of it now.

crazy traps to catch her unawares? To even think that-much less to say it!

The night went on still merrily. She allowed Channing to get no nearer to her than in the passing couples. Sometimes with the gaze that rested upon him as though he were the air she saw that his face was drawn under its smile.

It was time for the last dance. She couldn't dance it with Will! She couldn't speak to him! She couldn't go home with him! What should She turned into an anteshe do?

room.

Each year the Mutuals, the Sunday Schools, and the Primary organizations of the Church produce numerous dramas, vaudevilles, and pageants. Each year hundreds of special costumes and properties are made at the expense of a great outlay of time, money, and nervous energy to properly stage these productiens. Now that the 1922 season is over what is to become of this array of stage "finery"? Very few of us really know. We have a vague impression that somebody must have borrowed that colonial dame gown that we used in the pageant, or that Aunt Maud got the clown suit for Johnny and will probably neglect to return it until it is so torn and soiled that it is worthless. When someone happens to need such a costume again it has disappeared and a new one must be bought in its place.

The Kaysville Relief Society has attempted to solve the costume problem and has met with such success that other wards would do well to establish the same system. At the close of each dramatic production all specially designed costumes and accessories are turned over to this or ganization to be cleaned, pressed and

stored away in immaculate order until they are needed again.

A nominal charge for services is made to casts wishing to use the properties. In case the cast intends to contribute additional new material no such charge is made.

This home costuming company been in successful operation for over two years now and the members of the ward are proud of a most complete array of costumes ranging from Japanese kimonos and Indian war togs to the latest contribution, the fittings for the entire cast of "Alice in Wonderland," a play recently produced in the ward.

Knowing that any costume turned in will enjoy a long life of usefulness seems to have stimulated better workmanship on the part of the seamstresses, for it is surprising what well-made, really substantial garments are contributed.

Kaysville is one ward that will be able to lighten the expense account of all future dramatic ventures by its thrifty collection of well-cared-for costumes that will be infinitely more inviting to the amateur player than the unsanitary offerings of the professional costumer.