OUT OF THIN AIR These programs being broadcast every Wednesday and Thursday evening by Mr. Walter Burke and Island Radio Company , are a practical demonstration of the great value of a powerful radio station from a publicity angle. It was also from in 1925 that I did my first children's broadcast. I had forgotten about this until I discovered an old schedule in the National Archives which mentioned that stories for children would be read at six-thirty on Thursday evenings. I was twelve at the time and in Miss Mary Irving 's grade seven class at Prince Street School. It was simply a voice reading a ten minute story. We did not know then how to add music and sound effects. Those who performed on early radio—especially concert singers— risked their reputations. Friends invariably told them that they couldn't recognize their voices. I remember the night when Hermina , a former concert singer possessed of a glorious soprano voice, was to perform. Mrs. Richards , formerly from -Lorraine, had been a protege and subsequently an understudy of the famous Mme Ernestine Schumann-Heink , a leading contralto of the Metropolitan Opera in York . Mrs. Richards was not a stereotype of the heavy-busted, over¬ bearing prima donna. She was a slender, golden-haired beauty, very gracious and of regal bearing. She had married an Islander and left the lights and luminaries of York to live in Charlottetown . She and mother became close friends and were to give many recitals together. Because of her background she was the subject of legend and speculation—one being, that she could actually shatter wine glasses with a high "C". On the evening she was to perform there was much tension. It was her first time on radio. Dad fretted about the possibility of her high notes and marvellous vibrato shattering the tubes and knocking out the station. Mother was determined that nothing should mar the great professional's first appearance before the microphone, and Mrs. Richards was worried in case she would make a poor impression on the listeners. After all, our quilt-padded living-room with its network of wires leading to and from the stocking-capped microphone was a far cry from the Metropolitan Opera House. 48