ts of the body? We
can readily see how it gets to the air-cells of the lungs, but it
would do little good if it stopped there. It must be carried in some
way to all the minutest cells of all the tissues. This is done through
the breathing. The blood goes to the lungs, and there it gives out the
waste material it has collected in its journey through the body and
takes up oxygen. The blood goes to the lungs dark in color from its
load of waste. It is changed to a bright red by taking up oxygen. Each
red blood-corpuscle takes a load of oxygen, carries it to its
destination, and gives it to some tissue to be used up in the chemical
process of oxidation, upon which depends our life and energy. During
the hours of rest the tissues are busy in this process, and during
exercise the energy stored up in the tissue-cells is liberated and
waste created. So we see that the process is a continual round of
taking food and air, using them in rebuilding tissue, then using up
the tissue by exercise and casting out the waste products. And now we
can begin to understand that we live in proportion as we breathe. Dr.
Holbrook says: "The activity of the child is in close relation to the
strength of its lungs; so, too, is the calmness, dignity and power of
a man in proportion to the depth and tranquility of his respiration.
If the lungs are strong and active, there is courage and boldness; if
feeble, there is cowardice and debility. To be out of spirits is to be
out of breath. To be animated and joyous is to be full of breath."
"Breathing," writes Dr. von der Deeken, "is an actual vivifying act,
and the need of breath as felt is a real life-hunger and a proof that
without the continual charging of the blood-column with the proper
force, all the other vital organs would soon stagnate and cease action
altogether."

Now I wonder how many young women really know how to breathe. "Why,"
you say, "we have always breathed!" And I reply, "So you have, to some
extent; but do you really breathe, or do you just let a little current
of air flow gently through a part of your lungs, not reaching the
minute air-cells at all, or have you crippled a large part of your
lung-power by the restrictions of tight clothing?" Now you shrug your
shoulders and say, with a little irritation, perhaps, "O, now she is
going to scold about corsets and tight-lacing, and I do not wear my
clothes tight." But I am not now going to talk of lacing; I am going
to talk about singing