Last Saturday, the Philochorus club held its annual dance at Spelz Hall, and at the same occasion staged an exhibition of Swedish national dances. The dance, as expected, proved a great success. What display of colors as these young people, in national costumes, entered the stage, group after group, and then started an Ostgoth polka. What a beautiful vision must have been presented in Old magnificent Sweden when the vigorous, lively youth of that country were the costumes of old. The colors in these clothes might be considered an artistic blending of the opulent flora in our old country, and the tailoring does honor to the spirit of the North. A Swedish nation clothed in the national costumes of Sweden never could become backward. It would be as impossible as to be weeping in sunshine when there is no heaviness of heart.

The festival of the evening was, as we have said, magnificent. Vigor and grace characterized the whole. How the boys danced! They stood on their hands, on their heads, rarely on their feet for one of their feet was almost constantly making figures in the air. Then, all at once it seemed as if the whole crowd was on wings, the whole circle became a gigantic turn wheel. And then with a jump, the whole throng stood there absolutely still, as if they were a troop of soldiers at the command "Halt". - And the girls!-

Things were indeed lively Saturday evening. When one espies so many youths overflowing with gladness and joy, and listens to old-time quaint dance music that calls to life again dormant memories,then the joy of living quite automatically takes possession of one's soul.

The Philochorists deserve our gratitude for having fanned a fresh breeze, warm with sunshine, into our minds.