(not quite 20 × 50), which possesses a brilliant red swing, and a patch of blue sky overhead. Here Lena's liberty is unrestricted, and neither she nor her brothers have ever abused it even so far as to disturb the fringe of plants that struggle for life between the concrete and the fence.

At a quarter past five Lena reports to her teacher and performs her lesson. The time is spent earnestly, and the work accomplished is genuine in every sense. It is at once businesslike and artistic. How the lesson has been studied, wherein it gives evidence of insufficient thought, what must be done to assure better results for the coming week, and how more systematic habits may be cultivated to attain a finer artistic conception, all this gives her an abundance of suggestion, which, whether she ever becomes a musician or not, has lasting value.

But Lena's responsibility does not end with the lesson. Should you visit the School on the following Sunday morning, you will see her hastening, violin-case in hand, to report at ten o'clock. Forty others of her kind are assembled there. The usual confusion incident to the gathering of an orchestra and its preparation for performance greets you as you enter. But in a moment quiet reigns and all are in place ready to begin. You sit with the group of visitors, along the wall, or on the stairs, or in the little hallway. Under the guidance of Mr. David Mannes, the Conductor of the orchestra, you hear, in order, a Handel Concerto, a Mozart and a Beethoven Quartet.

The programme amazes you, but not less than the performance of it. The children are playing classic music well, and in a reverent spirit. It is particularly with the spirit that the Conductor impresses both you and them. Under his quietly given direction, tone, phrasing, and interpretation are building a new and a fairer creation. The beauty of the music comes forth from the instruments (many of which cost as little as three dollars) as Aphrodite rose from the mystic sea. The Conductor reminds you of the line in Uhland's poem, "Der Berg, der ist mein Eigenthum," whereon he, standing, calls up to him these little ones of many tribes, who, down in the city of

the plain, may be so easily and so dreadfully scattered. And they learn to climb, a step or two gained now and then, until one day we hope they may in turn dictate to the confusion of life below them as the Knabe' vom Berge did, saying, "Lasst meines Vaters Haus in Ruh!"

Now it is noon, the rehearsal is over, and the children surround the Conductor and direct to him a happy word or a serious inquiry. Meanwhile you begin your tour of observation to the teaching-rooms, the violin "store," the library, the front parlor office; and in the progress of your journey upstairs, downstairs, and in the little chambers you hear this story.

There are in regular attendance at the Music School Settlement about three hundred and seventy-five children, from six to seventeen years of age. In the past school year they received collectively thirty thousand lessons. The faculty numbers thirty-two members, and the courses of study include stringed instruments, piano, harmony, voice, and ensemble music. To this there are now to be added organ, wood-wind instruments, history of education, English language and literature, and the following technical courses: music type setting, music plate engraving, construction and repair of musical instruments, and piano tuning.

One who has never visited the School may ask, "Is it necessary to provide music instruction to the children of the East Side?"

The most convincing reply to this question is found in the support the School receives from the people for whom it exists. They not only tax it to its capacity, but there is always a waiting list. The people want music in the home, and here for a very few cents they may procure it. The neighborhood participates in the school life to an uncommon degree. One evening per week is devoted to a public concert when the children or visiting artists play. In a room that seats an orchestra of forty comfortably, a hundred or more people crowd in to listen.

Our pupils naturally fall into three classes: (1) Those who love music and study it as far as their time and circumstances permit. This type is illustrated

Now and then a critic arises who, having investigated the School only in the domain of his imagination, declares that we are trying to make musicians out of the children of barbers, tailors, and tinkers. I do not quite recognize the crime in this effort, but it does not fairly state the case. Among the large number of children who come to us we find, as the instances already cited show, some who are especially gifted. We make every effort to aid them so that they may develop and be enabled to help themselves. No attempt is made to fill the world with ill-prepared music teachers and players. That unfortunate supply takes care of itself. But our aim, even with the very least of those who come to us, is to instill good habits of study, strict attention to the responsibility involved in becoming a student, love for music, and reverence for the better things of life.

out of their station in life, give them ideals difficult if not impossible to attain, and make them dissatisfied with their condition."

This is true to an extent; would that it were true to a far greater extent ! When institutions devote themselves to providing us with an ideal difficult to attain, and to making us dissatisfied with our condition, we may then begin to understand what it means to say, "Thy kingdom come," for the coming of the kingdom lies in pursuing the ideal, in gaining the perception and the strength of will to forge the soul by swinging the hammer of effort.

In opportunities for stimulating individual and social betterment the School is abundantly provided; in its resources for meeting the problems that lie close at hand and for developing its work it is handicapped. I have referred above to the few cents required in payment for lessons.

This small payment instills

promptness, integrity, and thrift, and is consequently a splendid asset in character training. We find, however, that many a family has not even these few cents to spare. Hence we have established scholarships which provide those who are worthy with all necessary instruction until the time arrives when they can help themselves. The present financial depression has increased the demand for full and partial scholarships beyond our capacity to provide them. All instruction in harmony, in ensemble music, in orchestra and choral practice is free. It is our intention to provide the new courses in English and all the technical instruction free of expense to the pupils. Many of our children receive not only free instruction but all the necessary music and supplies. The School library of books and music is free to the chil dren of the School and to the neighborhood.

The school year extends from September 15 to June 15. But the summer is no idle time. In July and August of last year five thousand six hundred and twenty-three children came in from the East Side streets to play in the back yard. Here to the games of the streets were added the benefits of organized play; and every day the resident in charge of this work gathered about her the boys of the neighborhood, the good and the less good, to hear about their favorite heroes, generally the Knights of King Arthur's Round Table.

In the same period nearly one hundred children were provided with a two weeks' visit to the country, and two hundred others spent a day in the country.

During the school year there are evening classes for those wage-earners who are unable to come to us before six o'clock; there are also a concert one evening per week, and a regular rehearsal of the Junior Orchestra on Saturday morning and of the Senior Orchestra on Sunday morning. Many clubs have been formed in the school and neighborhood which meet regularly in the School building. After

the rehearsal on Sunday morning there is frequently present some one who speaks to the children on education, books, reading, music, or citizenship. The audience is intensely attentive. If I may be pardoned, I will refer to my own first visit to the School in April, 1906. I spoke to the children for a few minutes on Ruskin's "Sesame and Lilies." Afterwards the bad boy of the School (he was a sort of pugilistic mayor of the neighborhood) invited me out into the front hall to discuss the advisability of establishing a Ruskin Club.

Busy as the School is in its immediate work of music, it finds time and opportunity to take up many collateral activities. Every year makes us better acquainted with the people of the neighborhood and their needs. Medical care is provided for the children when neces sary. We welcome all to the public per formances given in the School, and they heartily respond to the invitation. Hence the Music School Settlement is at once a music school and a settlement.

I am often asked this question: With. whom is the School doing its most important work? I reply, with no hesitation, "With the little children." If little Lena comes to us early enough, we can give her a concrete idea how, through music, seeds of joy may be planted, how she may add to her early life-experience happy hours won by faithful devotion to duty. So important is this that not a day must pass without its rich contribution having been made. And unless Lena comes to us in the first years, this is done, if at all, with difficulty.

If we can add this influence to life's group of remembrances from childhood days, we feel that the community has gained through our effort a better citizen, and that the little citizen himself has gained somewhat of the inheritance of which Socrates taught when, in the streets of Athens, he gathered the youth about him while he discoursed on the text, "The gods for labor sell us all good things."