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Beginning in the school and continuing as long as they remain in the Village, they have their own powers supplemented and directed by those who understand. In no other way could life be made real for them, and worth while and safe. The whole life of the Village is built upon its simple creed, "Happiness First."

ASSEMBLY

It was a bright sunny morning. The air was full of the "tang" of spring -- crisp, bracing. There was an unusual briskness in the movements of the children as they came from their cottages and entered the Hall for their regular Friday morning half-hour assembly. These half-hours belong to them. There are no set programs. The children ask for what they want -- song, story or stunt -- and contribute what they have when called on. Friday assemblies are great fun; a bit noisy, perhaps, but never disorderly; plenty of excitement but no confusion. Everybody has a good time.

I stood at the rear of the auditorium as the smiling, expectant children found their seats. I was wondering how the Negro Spiritual, "Crucifixion," would suit their hilarious mood. I knew from experience that I would be called on for a song, and that it was likely to be, "The Three Little Owls"; "Go Sleep My Honey"; "Kentucky Babe", with its "punk-a-punk" refrain; or some other similar favorite. Today, however, was Good Friday, the most doleful anniversary of the year, and the "Crucifixion" depicted that tragedy. It was appropriate to the day but not in consonance with their mood. Would they see anything but humor in its reiterated refrain "An' He never said a mumbalin' word"?

My wondering was interrupted by the Superintendent, who had entered, been received with a joyous clapping of hands, and was announcing my presence. He ended by calling on me to open the program, always a spontaneous one at these midweek assemblies. Just at that point I had about determined to let them choose what they wanted. However, on my way down the aisle I changed my mind. Could they adjust themselves to the spirit of the day, to its pathos and tragedy? It was improbable, but one never knows just what lesson these children may teach.

Before beginning my song, I reminded them that we changed our clothing to suit the weather; that we put on heavy clothing in winter, light clothing in summer; that there was a time for joy and a time for sadness; for laughing and for not laughing -- all as briefly and simply as possible. Then I asked them, "What day is this?"

The reply came instantly, "Good Friday."

"What happened on Good Friday?"

"Jesus was crucified."

Then, very softly, "That's what I'm going to sing about."

They were quite still as I began: They crucified my Lord! An' He never said a mum-ba-lin word.

Good for them! There were none who laughed; nor were there any as I went on and finished it:

Not a word; not a word; not a word.
They nailed Him to a tree;
An' He never said a mum-ba-lin word;
Not a word; not a word; not a word.
They pierced Him in the side;
An' He never said a mum-ba-lin word;
Not a word; not a word; not a word.
The blood came twinkin' down;
An' He never said a mum-ba-lin word;
Not a word; not a word; not a word.
He bowed His head and died;
An' He never said a mum-ba-lin word;
Not a word -- , not a word -- , not a word -- .

With those several hundred children seeing and feeling the awful tragedy and the "Sublime Sacrifice" with me (for they had sat motionless through the singing), who could help carrying the test to the finish? I sang that last line ever more slowly, ever more softly, and held the last final word until it, too, died away. They had seen the cross, the agony, the "Great Sacrifice" with me.

The rest of the program that day was in accord with the "Crucifixion."

THE VILLAGE STORE

A store must have three things to be a store; a storekeeper, a stock of goods and customers. Some folks would add a comfortable place for village idlers, a nice hot stove in winter around which they can sit and talk, and in summer a long bench outside, in the shade, where they can sit and talk and whittle. As there are no idlers in the Village its store gets along without the stove and benches, having more modern though less neighborly means for warmth, but it does have those three necessary things.

First of all it has Miss Groff. She orders the supplies; keeps up the stock, checks it in; has a place for everything and keeps it there; checks it out when orders are filled; waits on customers; knows everybody; is patient with everybody, especially with the children. When all of these things are attended to she keeps the books. She's the storekeeper.

The second is the big and varied stock of goods but, as the storekeeper takes care of that, we needn't concern ourselves with it.

The third thing is the customers. The store has a good many big ones, the kitchens and dining and other rooms of each cottage, the several shops, the school, hospital, laundry, farm, and main office. All of these are so big, however, that they can take care of themselves. The most interesting thing about the store is its small customers, five hundred of them, who have got to be given very special attention. 'Small' refers only to the size of their accounts, for most of them are pretty well grown. The store carries an individual account with every last one of them.