ON WITH THE DANCE

Once upon a time folk-dances were common. Flaxen-haired madchens whirled before the Bohemian alehouse; Russian peasants brought in the harvest with a grand clicking of heels; and the toreador's wife turned exultant somersaults in the market place, while her husband slew the bull. Each of these was a primitive expression of emotion. The skips and contortions the ballet stage are all that now remains of these old-time dances. The originals have been so greatly modified and "aestheticized" by the professors of terpsichorean that their originators would scarcely recognize them. The folk-dance was natural; the imitation tries to be natural, but the charm of naivete has fled.

Fortunately, there is comfort for those who would mourn the "good old times." Surviving in modern college life is a folk-dance as old as man, yet still living a natural healthy life. It is a primitive expression of primitive emotion; not a poor marble copy of the original. No one can tell the precise age of the snakes-dance. When Ashur-Nemid and Ozod-Pidach stole up behind their rivals and stabbed them in the back, Ozod put his hands on Ashur's shoulders and they whisked about triumphantly among the trees. No doubt Moses and his brethren rejoiced in much the same manner when they had safely crossed the Red Sea. The Greeks zigzagged madly about in their frenzied religious celebrations.

Unhappily, the old order always changeth and in time even this last survivor must pass. Several centuries hence one will see lightly draped maidens "interpreting" a snake-dance with veils and pirouettes. And it will be advertised as "La Marche de Serpen." But at present "it lives, it moves, and has its being", and today all will have the privilege of knowing the snake-dance in its natural element.