DANCING F. O. B.

It was scarcely in a spirit of playfulness that Henry Ford first turned the spot-light onto Mellie Dunham, onetime citizen of Norway, Maine. Nor did he to exploit the slight talents of an old man merely for the sake of kindness. In the clever way of great men, he is pulling the strings behind a stupid venture, quite as unpractical as his unfortunate Peace ship a few years back. He hopes, with Mr. Dunham's aid, to revolutionize the disgraceful state of modern dancing.

No one who has witnessed the ungraceful Charleston, can fail to agree that modern dancing has its faults. A man of less keen perception than Henry Ford, realizes its shortcomings. But no one, except Mr. Ford, is quite so absurd as to suggest a return to the awkward clownish movements of a few years back. The company that performs with Mr. Dunham demonstrates conclusively that barn dances, at least, must never supplant the fox-trot and the new waltz. There have been periods of graceful polished dancing when rhythm and ease and picturesqueness gave color and beauty to the ballroom. But evidently Mr. Ford has never heard of them.

Instead he would like to see young America clod-hopping to Mr. Dunham's monotonous fiddle. Surely there is no harm in such exercise. The young people who went through it with Mr. Dunham made a lot of noise to indicate enjoyment, but looked very much as if they would rather be doing something more difficult and more graceful. The old folks appeared as if they had never learned to dance at all, and therein lay the pathos of the whole exhibition. It was their patient, uncertain attempts to attain any sort of grace in their movements which showed conclusively that the barn dance is perhaps the foundation of our modern waltzes, but not their antidote. If such awkward jigglings be dancing, then make the most of them.

No one who has witnessed the ungraceful Charleston, can fail to agree that modern dancing has its faults. A man of less keen perception than Henry Ford, realizes its shortcomings. But no one, except Mr. Ford, is quite so absurd as to suggest a return to the awkward clownish movements of a few years back. The company that performs with Mr. Dunham demonstrates conclusively that barn dances, at least, must never supplant the fox-trot and the new waltz. There have been periods of graceful polished dancing when rhythm and ease and picturesqueness gave color and beauty to the ballroom. But evidently Mr. Ford has never heard of them.

Instead he would like to see young America clod-hopping to Mr. Dunham's monotonous fiddle. Surely there is no harm in such exercise. The young people who went through it with Mr. Dunham made a lot of noise to indicate enjoyment, but looked very much as if they would rather be doing something more difficult and more graceful. The old folks appeared as if they had never learned to dance at all, and therein lay the pathos of the whole exhibition. It was their patient, uncertain attempts to attain any sort of grace in their movements which showed conclusively that the barn dance is perhaps the foundation of our modern waltzes, but not their antidote. If such awkward jigglings be dancing, then make the most of them.