Massage is as old as the hills. Most really good things are, I've found. The Grecian and Roman women preserved their wondrous, wholesome beauty by reveling in luxuriant baths and then undergoing vigorous massage by their stout-armed slaves. Massage is a natural alleviator and comfort-giver. The first thing a baby does when he bumps his precious head is to rub the injured spot with his little fist. Relief seems to come with friction. If one's temples hurt, the hands seem to itch and tingle to get to rubbing and smoothing out the aches there. And the reason for it is that friction makes active the nerves and blood vessels and exercises the tired or fretting muscles. Massage is exercise. If we were to cease using our arms the muscles would shrink and soon become incapable of movement. The skin outside would, of course, be affected by the general warpings of the tissues, and the result would be everything that is dreadful to the mind feminine--crow's feet, wrinkles, sallowness and lack of the tints and colors of health. You who have enjoyed the pleasures of a Turkish bath must know how new and robust and fresh you feel after the invigorating cleansing and pummeling by a strong and experienced masseuse. We all know about the system of decay and renewing which the skin constantly undergoes. It is much the same way with the muscles. The very tiny cells of which the muscles are composed are continually being repaired. As the wornout particles are rejected the new fiber is created. Does it not stand to reason that massage will facilitate this process, make the flesh firmer, restore vigor to the muscles and give new life to the entire system? The muscles of the face, more than those of any other part of the body, are lazy and torpid. As the troubles of life descend, the wear and tear of bothersome existence begins to show. The circulation becomes defective, and this brings flabby tissues and a wrinkled, sallow skin. Then, oh, woe! woe! One feels as if one might just as well be dead and gone as to be trailing through life so afflicted. Massage means "I knead." While the professional masseuse should be well informed concerning the muscles of the face and neck, the location of the veins and arteries, and the general formation of the skin, the little home body who wishes to rub away a few wrinkles or turkey tracks can easily dispense with the acquiring of so much knowledge. With knowing what "not to do," she will get along very well, although it has always been my opinion that the simplest and most satisfactory way to learn to massage one's own cheeks and brow is to go to a first-class professional for one or two treatments. If you keep your eyes open you will easily learn the simplest and most effective movements.