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Title: Lincoln Day Entertainments - Recitations, Plays, Dialogues, Drills, Tableaux, Pantomimes, - Quotations, Songs, Tributes, Stories, Facts
Author: Various
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

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Transcriber Note


Emphasized text is displayed as: _Italic_. Where music scores were
included, [MUSIC] was inserted below the title and authors names and
the verses and choruses were transcribed.



                                LINCOLN
                                  DAY

                            ENTERTAINMENTS

                            [Illustration]

                     FLANAGAN COMPANY      CHICAGO

                   *       *       *       *       *

                            [Illustration:

                        _Augustus St. Gaudens_

               STATUE OF LINCOLN, LINCOLN PARK, CHICAGO]


                   *       *       *       *       *



                              LINCOLN DAY
                            ENTERTAINMENTS

                RECITATIONS, PLAYS, DIALOGUES, DRILLS,
                   TABLEAUX, PANTOMIMES, QUOTATIONS,
                    SONGS, TRIBUTES, STORIES, FACTS

                               EDITED BY

                           JOS. C. SINDELAR

                          A. FLANAGAN COMPANY

                                CHICAGO


                            Copyright, 1908

                                  BY

                          A. FLANAGAN COMPANY



PREFACE


It is especially fitting to issue this book--in fact, any book on
the life and work of Abraham Lincoln--at this time, just preceding
the centennial of his birth. Insignificant as the little volume may
seem, it will have earned its right to publication if it bring, in
whatever small measure, before the growing mind of the country a better
realization of the grand life of the noble Lincoln--the loved and
martyred President--inspired by God and divinely prepared for a great
purpose: to guard and preserve a free and united country.

One hundred years seem but a day! One thousand years hence a deeper
feeling will be felt for everything concerning Lincoln, as with each
passing year he grows in the affections of the people. His body is
dead, but his memory will live in the hearts of the people as long
as our country shall cherish freedom and liberty. He was a born king
of men, with an intense and yearning love for his fellows and their
welfare, which knew neither rank, race, nor creed, but gathered within
its boundless charity all mankind.

What a shining example this simple but sublime life offers to our
growing youth! Born of humble parents, surrounded by poverty and
hardships such as we seldom encounter today, his rise to the highest
position in the gift of the American people--which position he not only
ably filled but highly honored--is a grand illustration of persistence
and ambition; ambition, though, tempered with foresight and wisdom. His
was an exemplary character: a character which for quaint simplicity,
earnestness, kindness, truthfulness and purity has never been surpassed
among the historic personages of the world. His figure, too, more than
any other in the history of our country, illustrates that America is
the land of opportunity. In short, to us he is the representative and
typical American.

He missed the polish that higher education affords, polish though
he needed not. What would not this country, with all its bright and
polished men, give today for another man of rugged education, rugged
honesty and rugged foresight and wisdom as was Abraham Lincoln? It is
hard to measure the usefulness of the life of such a man, yet more hard
to do his memory justice. Great qualities of heart and head did he
possess, of patience, patriotism, and piety, too. He occupies a unique
place in our nation's history. Though most of us never saw him, yet
we feel daily the influence of his just and kindly life bound up in
the two titles given him by his neighbors and those who knew him well:
"Honest Old Abe" and "Father Abraham."

The matter in this book, the only one of its kind published, is
intended not only for the entertainment of children but for their
instruction also. The contents for the most part is new, much of it
having been written especially for the book by Marie Irish, Clara J.
Denton, and Laura R. Smith, and some gathered from various sources and
adapted by the compiler. It is arranged as nearly as possible under the
various headings in degree of difficulty, primary material being placed
first.

Grateful acknowledgments are rendered to all magazines, periodicals
and books from whose pages selections have been gleaned and without
which the book could not have been complete. Proper credit has been
given wherever such matter appears. A few selections have been used of
which the names of author or publisher are unknown. For these it has
been impossible to give proper credit. In cases where unintentional
infringements have been made, sincere apologies are tendered.

                                                               J. C. S.



CONTENTS


  READINGS, RECITATIONS, QUOTATIONS

                                                               PAGE

  Abraham Lincoln                                _Joel Benton_   29
  Abraham Lincoln                              _Susie M. Best_   16
  Abraham Lincoln                      _William Cullen Bryant_   24
  Abraham Lincoln                                 _Alice Cary_   24
  Abraham Lincoln                       _James Russell Lowell_   30
  Abraham Lincoln                             _R. H. Stoddard_   23
  Abraham Lincoln                                 _Tom Taylor_   35
  At Richmond                                _Clara J. Denton_   18
  Best Tribute, The                             _Sidney Dayre_   15
  Blue and the Gray, The                 _Francis Miles Finch_   39
  Death of Lincoln, The                    _Charles G. Halpin_   27
  Flag Goes By, The                    _Henry Holcomb Bennett_   20
  Grandson of the Veteran, The               _Arthur E. Parke_   12
  Jonathan to John                      _James Russell Lowell_   43
  Let Us Be Like Him                     _Lydia Avery Coonley_   14
  Like Lincoln                               _Clara J. Denton_   10
  Lincoln                                                        11
  Lincoln                                                        19
  Lincoln                                      _Henry Tyrrell_   38
  Lincoln: A Man Called of God          _John Mellen Thurston_   41
  Lincoln and the Nestlings                  _Clara J. Denton_   14
  Lincoln, the Man of the People               _Edwin Markham_   34
  No Slave Beneath the Flag            _George Lansing Taylor_   47
  O Captain! My Captain!                        _Walt Whitman_   28
  Old Flag                                    _Hubbard Parker_   22
  On the Life-Mask of Abraham Lincoln  _Richard Watson Gilder_   29
  Our Abraham                                                    32
  Our Lincoln                                                    10
  Quotations from Lincoln                                        54
  Some Heroes                                                     9
  Story of Lincoln, The                        _C. C. Hassler_   21
  'Tis Splendid to Live So Grandly      _Margaret E. Sangster_   17
  Tributes to Lincoln                                            48
  Was Lincoln King?                            _Ella M. Bangs_   13
  Your Flag and My Flag                     _Wilbur D. Nesbit_   26


  PLAYS, DIALOGUES, EXERCISES

  Captain Lincoln. 5 boys                    _Clara J. Denton_   82
  Flag Exercise, A. 8 girls and boys          _L. F. Armitage_   68
  Prophecy, The. 1 girl, 2 boys              _Clara J. Denton_   77
  Savior of Our Flag and Country, The. Whole school
                                              _Laura R. Smith_   57
  With Fife and Drum. 4 girls, 3 boys        _Clara J. Denton_   88
  Wooden Fire-Shovel, The. 3 girls, 2 boys   _Clara J. Denton_   70
  Suggestive Program                                            102


  DRILLS--By Marie Irish

  Civil War Daughters. 12 girls                                 110
  Blue and the Gray on the Rappahannock, The.
      20 to 40 children                                         117
  Old Glory. 5 girls, 5 boys                                    103
  Star-Spangled Banner, The. 11 children                        106


  PANTOMIMES--By Marie Irish

  America                                                       125
  Auld Lang Syne                                                129
  Blue and the Gray, The                                        128
  Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean                                131
  Home, Sweet Home                                              132
  Star-Spangled Banner, The                                     123
  Swanee Ribber                                                 126


  TABLEAUX--By Marie Irish.

  Liberty                                                       134
  March of Civilization, The                                    133
  Peace                                                         134
  Scenes from the Life of Lincoln                               135
      The Student, The Laborer, The Emancipator,
      The Pardoner, The Martyr.
  Soldier's Farewell, The                                       133
  When I'm a Man                                                132


  SONGS

  Day We Celebrate, The                      _Clara J. Denton_  138
  His Name                                   _Clara J. Denton_  140
  Lincoln Dear          _Laura R. Smith and Clarence L. Riege_  143
  Lincoln's Birthday                          _Laura R. Smith,
                      F. F. Churchill and Mrs. Clara Grindell_  144
  Lincoln Song                               _Clara J. Denton_  139
  Name We Sing, The                          _Clara J. Denton_  139
  Song of Rejoicing, A                       _Clara J. Denton_  141
  Sunny Southland, The  _Laura R. Smith and Clarence L. Riege_  146
  When Lincoln Was a Little Boy              _Clara J. Denton_  137


  STORIES AND FACTS

  Events in the Life of Abraham Lincoln                         158
  Gettysburg Address, The                                       157
  Granting a Pardon                                             149
  How They Sang "The Star-Spangled Banner"
      When Lincoln Was Inaugurated               _Thomas Nast_  152
  Lincoln's Autobiography                                       150
  Lincoln's Favorite Poem                                       154
  Lincoln's Tenderness                                          148
  Why Dummy Clocks Mark 8:18                                    148



LINCOLN DAY

ENTERTAINMENTS



READINGS, RECITATIONS, QUOTATIONS


SOME HEROES

 This recitation is intended to be rendered by two little boys. One
 holds a book and shows the pictures while the other recites.

  Now look, and some pictures of heroes I'll show,
  A hero is always a brave man, you know.

  Here on this first page is Washington grand,
  He fought for our liberty, our free, honored land.

  And next we see our loved Lincoln so brave,
  You know he gave freedom to each poor old slave.

  And here's General Grant! Think what battles he won!
  He fought that all States be united as one.

  You see all these heroes are both good and great,
  And each gave his life for his country and state.

  The last is a hero,--now think who 'twill be!
  He, too, will be great; now look and see,--Me.


OUR LINCOLN

  Our Lincoln, when he was a boy,
    Was very tall and slim.
  You see I'm just a little tall;
    I wonder if I look like him.

  Our Lincoln, when he was a boy,
    Was very brave and very true.
  Today I'm just a little brave;
    In this I'm like our Lincoln, too.

  Our Lincoln, when he was a man,
    Was loved and honored everywhere.
  I'll be the man that Lincoln was,
    To do this I must now prepare.


LIKE LINCOLN

Clara J. Denton

  When I'm a man, a great big man,
    Like dear old Abe I'll be.
  I mean to follow every plan
    To make me good as he.

  I'll study well, and tell the truth.
    And all my teachers mind;
  And I will be to every one,
    Like him, so true and kind.

  I'll try to live in peace, because
    "Quarrels don't pay," said he;
  And any rule of "Honest Abe's"
    Is good enough for me.

  I'll make the best of everything,
    And never scold or whine;
  That was his way when trouble came,
    And so it shall be mine.

  I'll be a temperance man, like him.
    They say--what do you think!--
  He gave some great men at his house,
    Just water cold to drink!

  He did not muddle up his brains
    With any sort of stuff.
  And so, I think his way--don't you?
    Is plenty good enough.

  I may not be a President
    If thus my life I plan.
  But I'll be something better still:
    A good and honest man.


LINCOLN[A]

  Only a baby, fair and small,
    Like many another baby son,
  Whose smiles and tears came swift at call,
  Who ate, and slept, and grew, that's all,--
    The infant Abe Lincoln.

  Only a boy like other boys,
    With many a task, but little fun,
  Fond of his books, though few he had,
  By his good mother's death made sad,--
    The little Abe Lincoln.

  Only a lad, awkward and shy,
    Skilled in handling an ax or gun,
  Mastering knowledge that, by and by,
  Should aid him in duties great and high,--
    The youthful Abe Lincoln.

  Only a man of finest bent,
    A splendid man: a Nation's son,
  Rail-splitter, Lawyer, President,
  Who served his country and died content,--
    The patriot, Abe Lincoln.

  Only--ah! what was the secret, then,
    Of his being America's honored son?
  Why was he famed above other men,
  His name upon every tongue and pen,--
    The illustrious Abe Lincoln?

  A mighty brain, a will to endure,
    Kind to all, though a slave to none,
  A heart that was brave, and strong, and sure,
  A soul that was noble, and great, and pure,
  A faith in God that was held secure,--
    This was Abraham Lincoln.

[A] With apologies to the unknown writer of the pretty poem Washington,
of which this is an adaptation.--Editor.


THE GRANDSON OF THE VETERAN

Arthur E. Parke

  I've got the finest grandpapa
    That ever lived, I b'lieve;
  He used to be a soldier boy--
    He's got one empty sleeve.

  He tells the grandest tales to me,
    Of battles that he fought;
  Of how he marched, and how he charged,
    And how that he got shot.

  My papa was a soldier, too;
    No battles was he in,
  And when I ask him, "Why?", he laughs
    And "guesses" he "was tin."

  I've tried to understand their talk,
    And b'lieve I have it right:
  My grandpa licked so many, there
    Were none for pa to fight.

                                                 --_Youth's Companion._


WAS LINCOLN KING?

Ella M. Bangs

  We talked of kings, little Ned and I,
    As we sat in the firelight's glow;
  Of Alfred the Great, in days gone by,
    And his kingdom of long ago.

  Of Norman William, who, brave and stern,
    His armies to victory led.
  Then, after a pause, "At school we learn
    Of another great man," said Ned.

  "And this one was good to the oppressed,
    He was gentle and brave, and so
  Wasn't he greater than all the rest?
    'Twas Abraham Lincoln, you know."

  "Was Lincoln a king?" I asked him then,
    And in waiting for his reply
  A long procession of noble men
    Seemed to pass in the firelight by.

  When "No" came slowly from little Ned,
    And thoughtfully; then, with a start,
  "He wasn't a king--_outside_," he said,
    "But I think he was in his heart."


LET US BE LIKE HIM[B]

Lydia Avery Coonley

  When we think of Abraham Lincoln
    Then the angel voices call,
  Saying: Try to be just like him!
    Be as noble, one and all.

  Be as truthful, as unselfish;
    Be as pure, as good, as kind;
  Be as honest; never flatter;
    Give to God your heart and mind.

  Seek not praise, but do your duty,
    Love the right and work for it;
  Then the world will be the better
    Because you have lived in it.

[B] From Lincoln and Washington, by Marian M. George and Lydia Avery
Coonley. Copyrighted and published by A. Flanagan Company. Price,
twenty-five cents.


LINCOLN AND THE NESTLINGS

Clara J. Denton

  I've heard the beautiful stories
    Of Lincoln so great and so good.
  He helped all people in trouble,
    And their grief so well understood;
  To many sad tales he listened,
    Of heart-broken mothers and wives;
  And pausing 'mid all his worries,
    Once more he brought hope to their lives.

  Dearer than all other stories,
    Is this little one of the day
  When he, with his friends, was riding
    On horseback along the roadway;
  There, in the dust, by a tree, he found
    One little bird, then another,
  From their nest the wind had blown them,
    And he was hunting for their mother.

  When at last he found the nest, and
    In it the birdies laid,
  'Mid the party's merry laughter
    His heart was glad, his manner grave:
  "Seems to me," he said, "I couldn't
    Tonight in bed with ease have slept
  Had I left those creatures suffer
    And not restored them to their nest."

  Wonderful heart; ever tender--
    Tender, yet _just_, with the rest.
  I think among all the stories,
    This shows his true nature the best.


THE BEST TRIBUTE

Sidney Dayre

  My Grandpa was a soldier. They tell about the day
  He said his very last good-by and bravely marched away,
  With flying flags and bayonets all gleaming in the sun.
  They never saw him march back when all the war was done.

  They brought him here and laid him where I can always bring
  The very brightest flowers that blossom in the spring;
  But sweeter far than flowers, as every one can tell,
  Is the memory of the soldiers who loved their country well.

  I wish I could be like him--to try with all my might
  And do my loyal service for honor and for right
  And victory and glory! But children now, you know,
  Have never any chance at all to war against a foe.

  And as I think upon it, the best that we can do
  To show our love and honor for a hero brave and true,
  Is to resolve together always to be brave,
  To live our very noblest in the land he died to save.


ABRAHAM LINCOLN

Susie M. Best

  'Mid the names that fate has written
    On the deathless scroll of fame,
  We behold the name of Lincoln,
    Shining like a living flame.

  'Mid the deeds the world remembers,
    (Deeds by dauntless heroes done),
  We behold the deeds of Lincoln,
    Blazing like a brilliant sun.

  'Mid the lives whose light illumines
    History's dark and dreadful page,
  We behold the life of Lincoln,
    Lighting up an awful age.

  When the storm of peril threatened
    His loved land to overwhelm,
  Safe the ship of state he guided,
    With his hand upon the helm.

  Statesman, ruler, hero, martyr--
    Fitting names for him, I say,
  Wherefore, let us all as brothers,
    Love his memory today.


'TIS SPLENDID TO LIVE SO GRANDLY[C]

Margaret E. Sangster

  'Tis splendid to live so grandly
    That, long after you are gone,
  The things you did are remembered,
    And recounted under the sun;
  To live so bravely and purely
    That a nation stops on its way,
  And once a year, with banner and drum,
    Keeps the thoughts of your natal day.

  'Tis splendid to have a record,
    So white and free from stain,
  That, held to the light, it shows no blot,
    Though tested and tried again;
  That age to age forever
    Repeats its story of love,
  And your birthday lives in a nation's heart
    All other days above.

  And this is our Lincoln's glory,
    A steadfast soul and true,
  Who stood for his country's union,
    When his country called him to.
  And now that we once more are one,
    And our flag of stars is flung
  To the breeze in defiant challenge,
    His name is on every tongue.

  Yes, it's splendid to live so bravely,
    To be so great and strong,
  That your memory is ever a tocsin
    To rally the foes of the wrong;
  To live so proudly and purely
    That your people pause in their way,
  And year by year, with banner and drum,
    Keep the thoughts of your natal day.

[C] Adapted by the editor from the author's excellent tribute to
Washington. The poem is equally true to the character and work of
Lincoln as well as the love for him.


AT RICHMOND

Clara J. Denton

  We have read the stories glowing,
    Found in annals of old,
  Of mighty conquerers marching,
    With cohorts strong and bold:

  We see the proud monarch, riding
    In grand and lofty state,
  We hear the clamor, extolling
    His skill and prowess great.

  But, grander by far the vision
    Modern annals unclose:
  Through the burning streets of Richmond
    Walks Lincoln 'mong his foes.

  Though no pride of state surrounds him,
    On every side we hear:
  "Foh Marsa Linkum, bress de Lawd."
    "De Sabiour now am near."

  "O, honey chile, jes' tech him once!"
    "Suah heben is 'mos' nigh."
  "I's on de mount, O, Gawd, I is."
    "Dis niggah now kin die."

  O, the poor untutored negroes!
    And yet I am sure, to him
  Before those cries of joy and love
    Earth's brightest gauds grew dim.

  And, I think, his heart that morning
    A throb exultant gave;
  For never more his countrymen
    Could know the name of slave!


LINCOLN

  From out the strong young west he came
    In those warlike days of yore,
  When Freedom's cry had reached the sky
    And rung from shore to shore.

  He knew the world was watching him,
    He heard the words of scorn,
  He felt the weight of a severed State
    By cruel rebellion torn.

  But calling on Jehovah,
    He seized his mighty pen
  And with a stroke, the chains he broke
    From a million bonded men.

  He was a dauntless leader
    As among the host he moved,
  And he gave his life in the time of strife
    To save the cause he loved.


THE FLAG GOES BY

Henry Holcomb Bennett

  Hats off!
  Along the street there comes
  A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums,
  A flash of color beneath the sky;
            Hats off!
  The flag is passing by!

  Blue and crimson and white it shines,
  Over the steel-tipped, ordered lines.
            Hats off!
  The colors before us fly;
  But more than the flag is passing by:

  Sea fights and land fights, grim and great,
  Fought to make and save the State;
  Weary marches and sinking ships;
  Cheers of victory on dying lips;

  Days of plenty and years of peace;
  March of a strong land's swift increase;
  Equal justice, right, and law,
  Stately honor and reverend awe;

  Sign of a nation, great and strong
  To ward her people from foreign wrong;
  Pride and glory and honor,--all
  Live in the colors to stand or fall.

            Hats off!
  Along the street there comes
  A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums;
  And loyal hearts are beating high.
            Hats off!
  The flag is passing by!


THE STORY OF LINCOLN

C. C. Hassler

  Tell to the boys the story of Lincoln,
    Tell it to them when early in youth,
  Tell of his struggles for knowledge to fit him,
    Guide him thro' manhood in honored truth.

  Tell them of Lincoln; yes, tell them the story,
    None more worthy of honor than he;
  None was more proud of our national glory;
    None was more true to the flag of the free.

  Tell to the boys the story of Lincoln;
    Tell of his loyalty, tell of his hate--
  Not toward men, but the infamous measures
    False to the nation, the home and the state.

  Tell them; yes, tell them, his highest ambition
    Was of all men in the nation to stand
  Close to the hearts of the people who loved him--
    Loved him and chose him to rule in the land.

  Tell to the boys the sad story of Lincoln;
    Tell of his trials when traitors defied
  And spurned the old flag; how the nation's defenders
    At his call rallied and sprang to his side;

  Tell how he suffered when news of the battle
    Told of disaster, of wounded and dead;
  Tell how his great noble heart was oft gladdened
    When as proud victors our armies were led.

  Tell them; yes, tell them the story and point them
    Up to a standard he would applaud;
  Loyal in life to the state and the nation,
    True to one country, one flag and one God.


OLD FLAG

Hubbard Parker

  What shall I say to you, Old Flag?
  You are so grand in every fold,
  So linked with mighty deeds of old,
  So steeped in blood where heroes fell,
  So torn and pierced by shot and shell,
  So calm, so still, so firm, so true,
  My throat swells at the sight of you,
                                      Old Flag.

  What of the men who lifted you, Old Flag,
  Upon the top of Bunker Hill,
  Who crushed the Britons' cruel will,
  'Mid shock and roar and crash and scream,
  Who crossed the Delaware's frozen stream,
  Who starved, who fought, who bled, who died,
  That you might float in glorious pride,
                                      Old Flag?

  What of the women brave and true, Old Flag,
  Who, while the cannon thundered wild,
  Sent forth a husband, lover, child,
  Who labored in the field by day,
  Who, all the night long, knelt to pray,
  And thought that God great mercy gave,
  If only freely you might wave,
                                      Old Flag?

  What is your mission now, Old Flag?
  What but to set all people free,
  To rid the world of misery,
  To guard the right, avenge the wrong,
  And gather in one joyful throng
  Beneath your folds in close embrace
  All burdened ones of every race,
                                      Old Flag.

  Right nobly do you lead the way, Old Flag.
  Your stars shine out for liberty,
  Your white stripes stand for purity,
  Your crimson claims that courage high
  For honor's sake to fight and die.
  Lead on against the alien shore!
  We'll follow you, e'en to Death's door,
                                      Old Flag!


ABRAHAM LINCOLN

R. H. Stoddard

  This man whose homely face you look upon,
  Was one of Nature's masterful, great men;
  Born with strong arms that unfought victories won,
  Direct of speech, and cunning with the pen,
  Chosen for large designs, he had the art
  Of winning with his humor, and he went
  Straight to his mark, which was the human heart;
  Wise, too, for what he could not break he bent.
  Upon his back a more than Atlas' load
  The burden of the Commonwealth was laid;
  He stooped, and rose up with it, though the road
  Shot suddenly downwards, not a whit dismayed.
  Hold, warriors, councillors, kings! All now give place
  To this dead Benefactor of the Race!


ABRAHAM LINCOLN

William Cullen Bryant

 This ode was written for the Funeral Services held in New York City.

  Oh, slow to smite and swift to spare,
    Gentle and merciful and just!
  Who in the fear of God, didst bear
    The sword of power, a nation's trust.

  In sorrow by thy bier we stand
    Amid the awe that husheth all,
  And speak the anguish of a land
    That shook with horror at thy fall.

  Thy task is done; the bonds are free;
    We bear thee to an honored grave,
  Whose proudest monument shall be
    The broken fetters of the slave.

  Pure was thy life; its bloody close
    Has placed thee with the Sons of Light,
  Among the noble host of those
    Who perished in the cause of Right.


ABRAHAM LINCOLN

Alice Cary

INSCRIBED TO "PUNCH"

  No glittering chaplet brought from other lands!
    As in his life, this man, in death, is ours;
  His own loved prairies o'er his "gaunt, gnarled hands"
    Have fitly drawn their sheet of summer flowers!

  What need hath he now of a tardy crown,
    His name from mocking jest and sneer to save?
  When every ploughman turns his furrow down
    As soft as though it fell upon his grave.

  He was a man whose like the world again
    Shall never see, to vex with blame or praise;
  The landmarks that attest his bright, brief reign
    Are battles, not the pomps of gala days!

  The grandest leader of the grandest war
    That ever time in history gave a place;
  What were the tinsel flattery of a star
    To such a breast! or what a ribbon's grace!

  'Tis to th' _man_, and th' man's honest worth,
    The nation's loyalty in tears upsprings;
  Through him the soil of labor shines henceforth
    High o'er the silken broideries of kings.

  The mechanism of external forms--
    The shrifts that courtiers put their bodies through,
  Were alien ways to him--his brawny arms
    Had other work than posturing to do!

  Born of the people, well he knew to grasp
    The wants and wishes of the weak and small;
  Therefore we hold him with no shadowy clasp--
    Therefore his name is household to us all.

  Therefore we love him with a love apart
    From any fawning love of pedigree--
  His was the royal soul and mind and heart--
    Not the poor outward shows of royalty.

  Forgive us then, O friends, if we are slow
    To meet your recognition of his worth--
  We're jealous of the very tears that flow
    From eyes that never loved a humble hearth.



YOUR FLAG AND MY FLAG

Wilbur D. Nesbit

      Your Flag and my Flag,
        And how it flies today
      In your land and my land
        And half the world away!
      Rose-red and blood-red
        The stripes forever gleam;
      Snow-white and soul-white--
        The good forefather's dream;
  Sky-blue and true-blue, with stars to gleam aright--
  The gloried guidon of the day; a shelter through the night.

      Your Flag and my Flag!
        And, oh, how much it holds--
      Your land and my land--
        Secure within its folds!
      Your heart and my heart
        Beat quicker at the sight;
      Sun-kissed and wind-tossed,
        Red and blue and white.
  The one Flag--the great Flag--the Flag for me and you--
  Glorified all else beside--the red and white and blue!

      Your Flag and my Flag!
        To every star and stripe
      The drums beat as hearts beat
        And fifers shrilly pipe!
      Your Flag and my Flag--
        A blessing in the sky;
      Your hope and my hope--
        It never hid a lie!
  Home land and far land and half the world around,
  Old Glory hears our glad salute and ripples to the sound!


THE DEATH OF LINCOLN

Charles G. Halpin

  He filled the nation's eye and heart,
    An honored, loved, familiar name,
    So much a brother that his fame
  Seemed of our lives a common part.

  His towering figure, sharp and spare,
    Was with such nervous tension strung,
    As if on each strained sinew swung
  The burden of a people's care.

  He was his country's, not his own;
    He had no wish but for her weal;
    Not for himself could think or feel,
  But as a laborer for her throne.

  O, loved and lost! thy patient toil
    Had robed our cause in Victory's light;
    Our country stood redeemed and bright,
  With not a slave on all her soil.

  A martyr to the cause of man,
    His blood is freedom's eucharist,
    And in the world's great hero list,
  His name shall lead the van.


O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!

Walt Whitman

 Abraham Lincoln was killed by John Wilkes Booth, almost exactly four
 years after the first shot was fired at Fort Sumter. This song and
 Edwin Markham's poem on Lincoln are two of the greatest tributes ever
 paid to that hero.

  O Captain! my Captain! Our fearful trip is done,
  The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
  The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
  While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
            But O heart! heart! heart!
              O the bleeding drops of red,
                Where on the deck my Captain lies,
                  Fallen cold and dead!

  O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
  Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills,
  For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding,
  For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
            Here, Captain! dear father!
              This arm beneath your head!
                It is some dream that on the deck
                  You've fallen cold and dead.

  My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
  My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
  The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
  From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
            Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
              But I, with mournful tread,
                Walk the deck my Captain lies,
                  Fallen cold and dead.


ABRAHAM LINCOLN

Joel Benton

  Some opulent force of genius, soul, and race,
    Some deep life-current from far centuries
    Flowed to his mind and lighted his sad eyes,
  And gave his name, among great names, high place.

  But these are miracles we may not trace,
    Nor say why from a source and lineage mean
    He rose to grandeur never dreamt or seen
  Or told on the long scroll of history's space.

  The tragic fate of one broad hemisphere
    Fell on stern days to his supreme control,
  All that the world and liberty held dear
    Pressed like a nightmare on his patient soul.

  Martyr beloved, on whom, when life was done,
  Fame looked, and saw another Washington!


ON THE LIFE-MASK OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN

Richard Watson Gilder

  This bronze doth keep the very form and mold
    Of our great martyr's face. Yes, this is he:
    That brow all wisdom, all benignity;
  That human humorous mouth; those cheeks that hold
  Like some harsh landscape all the summer's gold;
    That spirit fit for sorrow, as the sea
    For storms to beat on; the lone agony
  Those silent, patient lips too well foretold.
  Yes, this is he who ruled a world of men
    As might some prophet of the elder day--
    Brooding above the tempest and the fray
  With deep-eyed thought and more than mortal ken.
    A power was his beyond the touch of art
    Or armed strength--his pure and mighty heart.


ABRAHAM LINCOLN

James Russell Lowell

 This is a fragment of the noble Commemoration Ode delivered at Harvard
 College to the memory of those of its students who fell in the war
 which kept the country whole.

  Such was he, our Martyr-Chief,
  Whom late the Nation he had led,
  With ashes on her head,
  Wept with the passion of an angry grief:
  Forgive me, if from present things I turn
  To speak what in my heart will beat and burn,
  And hang my wreath on this world-honored urn.
        Nature, they say, doth dote,
        And cannot make a man
        Save on some worn-out plan,
        Repeating us by rote:
  For him her Old-World moulds aside she threw,
    And, choosing sweet clay from the breast
    Of the unexhausted West,
  With stuff untainted shaped a hero new,
  Wise, steadfast in the strength of God, and true.
      How beautiful to see
  Once more a shepherd of mankind indeed,
  Who loved his charge, but never loved to lead;
  One whose meek flock the people joyed to be,
    Not lured by any cheat of birth,
    But by his clear-grained human worth,
  And brave old wisdom of sincerity!
    They knew that outward grace is dust;
    They could not choose but trust
  In that sure-footed mind's unfaltering skill,
    And supple-tempered will
  That bent like perfect steel to spring again and thrust.
    His was no lonely mountain-peak of mind,
    Thrusting to thin air o'er our cloudy bars,
    A sea-mark now, now lost in vapors blind;
    Broad prairie rather, genial, level-lined,
    Fruitful and friendly for all human kind,
  Yet also nigh to heaven and loved of loftiest stars.

         *       *       *       *       *

    I praise him not; it were too late;
  And some innative weakness there must be
  In him who condescends to victory
  Such as the Present gives, and cannot wait,
    Safe in himself as in a fate.
        So always firmly he:
        He knew to bide his time,
        And can his fame abide,
  Still patient in his simple faith sublime,
        Till the wise years decide.
  Great captains, with their guns and drums,
    Disturb our judgment for the hour,
        But at last silence comes;
  These all are gone, and, standing like a tower,
  Our children shall behold his fame.
        The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man,
  Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame,
    New birth of our new soil, the first American.


OUR ABRAHAM

  Out of the mellow West there came
  A man whom neither praise nor blame
  Could gild or tarnish; one who rose
    With fate-appointed swiftness far
  Above his friends, above his foes;
    Whose life shone like a splendid star,
  To fill his people's hearts with flame;
  Who never sought for gold or fame;
  But gave himself without a price--
  A willing, humble sacrifice--
  An erring Nation's Paschal Lamb--
  The great, gaunt, patient Abraham.

  I never saw his wrinkled face,
  Where tears and smiles disputed place;
  I never touched his homely hand,
    That seemed in benediction raised,
  E'en when it emphasized command,
    What time the fires of battle blazed,
  The hand that signed the act of grace
  Which freed a wronged and tortured race;
  And yet I feel that he is mine--
  My country's; and that light divine
  Streams from the saintly oriflamme
  Of great, gaunt, patient Abraham.

  He was our standard-bearer; he
  Caught up the thread of destiny,
  And round the breaking Union bound
    And wove it firmly. To his task
  He rose gigantic; nor could sound
    Of menace daunt him. Did he ask
  For homage when glad Victory
  Followed his flags from sea to sea?
  Nay, but he staunched the wounds of war;
  And you owe all you have and are--
  And I owe all I have and am
  To great, gaunt, patient Abraham.

  The pillars of our temple rocked
  Beneath the mighty wind that shocked
  Foundations that the fathers laid;
    But he upheld the roof and stood
  Fearless, while others were afraid;
    His sturdy strength and faith were good,
  While coward knees together knocked,
  And traitor hands the door unlocked,
  To let the unbeliever in.
  He bore the burden of our sin,
  While the rebel voices rose to damn
  The great, gaunt, patient Abraham.

  And then he died a martyr's death--
  Forgiveness in his latest breath,
  And peace upon his dying lips.
    He died for me; he died for you;
  Heaven help us if his memory slips
    Out of our hearts! His soul was true
  And clean and beautiful. What saith
  Dull history that reckoneth
  But coldly? That he was a man
  Who loved his fellows as few can;
  And that he hated every sham--
  Our great, gaunt, patient Abraham.

  Majestic, sweet, was Washington;
  And Jefferson was like the sun--
  He glorified the simplest thing
    He touched; and Andrew Jackson seems
  The impress of a fiery king
    To leave upon us: these in dreams
  Are oft before us; but the one
  Whose vast work was so simply done--
  The Lincoln of our war-tried years--
  Has all our deepest love; in tears,
  We chant the In Memoriam
  Of great, gaunt, patient Abraham.



LINCOLN, THE MAN OF THE PEOPLE[D]

Edwin Markham

 This poem, which is considered one of the two best tributes ever paid
 to Lincoln, the other being Walt Whitman's O Captain! My Captain! is a
 tremendously virile and earnest summing up of the meaning of the man
 (Lincoln) and his life; a lesson in patriotism and a masterful piece
 of hero worship.


  When the Norn-Mother saw the Whirlwind Hour
  Greatening and darkening as it hurried on,
  She left the Heaven of Heroes and came down
  To make a man to meet the mortal need.
  She took the tried clay of the common road--
  Clay warm yet with the genial heat of Earth,
  Dashed through it all a strain of prophecy;
  Tempered the heap with thrill of mortal tears;
  Then mixed a laughter with the serious stuff.
  It was a stuff to hold against the world,
  A man to match our mountains, and compel
  The stars to look our way and honor us.

  The color of the ground was in him, the red earth;
  The tang and odor of the primal things;
  The rectitude and patience of the rocks;
  The gladness of the wind that shakes the corn;
  The courage of the bird that dares the sea;
  The justice of the rain that loves all leaves;
  The pity of the snow that hides all scars;
  The loving-kindness of the wayside well;
  The tolerance and equity of light
  That gives as freely to the shrinking weed
  As to the great oak flaring to the wind--
  To the grave's low hill as to the Matterhorn
  That shoulders out the sky.

                And so he came.
  From prairie cabin up to Capitol,
  One fair Ideal led our chieftain on.
  Forevermore he burned to do his deed
  With the fine stroke and gesture of a king.
  He built the rail-pile as he built the State,
  Pouring his splendid strength through every blow,
  The conscience of him testing every stroke,
  To make his deed the measure of a man.

  So came the Captain with the mighty heart;
  And when the step of Earthquake shook the house,
  Wrenching the rafters from their ancient hold,
  He held the ridgepole up, and spiked again
  The rafters of the Home. He held his place--
  Held the long purpose like a growing tree--
  Held on through blame and faltered not at praise.
  And when he fell in whirlwind, he went down
  As when a kingly cedar green with boughs
  Goes down with a great shout upon the hills,
  And leaves a lonesome place against the sky.

[D] From Lincoln and Other Poems by Edwin Markham. By permission of The
McClure Company and the author. Copyright, 1901, by Edwin Markham.

This poem was revised by Mr. Markham especially for use in this book.
Copyright, 1908, by Edwin Markham. Reprinting in whatever form is
expressly forbidden, unless through special permission of the author.


ABRAHAM LINCOLN

Tom Taylor[E]

  You lay a wreath on murdered Lincoln's bier,
  You, who with mocking pencil wont to trace,
  Broad for the self-complacent British sneer,
  His length of shambling limb, his furrowed face,
  His gaunt, gnarled hands, his unkempt, bristling hair,
  His garb uncouth, his bearing ill at ease,
  His lack of all we prize as debonair,
  Of power or will to shine, of art to please.

  You, whose smart pen backed up the pencil's laugh,
  Judging each step as though the way were plain:
  Reckless, so it could point its paragraph
  Of chief's perplexity, or people's pain.
  Beside this corpse that bears for winding-sheet
  The Stars and Stripes he lived to rear anew,
  Between the mourner at his head and feet,
  Say, scurril-jester, is there room for you?
  Yes! He had lived to shame me from my sneer,
  To lame my pencil and confute my pen;
  To make me own this hind of princes peer,
  This rail-splitter, a true-born king of men.
  My shallow judgment I had learned to rue,
  Noting how to occasion's height he rose,
  How his quaint wit made home truth seem more true,
  How, iron-like, his temper grew by blows.

  How humble, yet how hopeful, he could be:
  How in good fortune and in ill the same:
  Nor bitter in success, nor boastful he,
  Thirsty for gold, nor feverish for fame.
  He went about his work--such work as few
  Ever had laid on head and heart and hand--
  As one who knows, where there's a task to do,
  Man's honest will must Heaven's good grace command;
  Who trusts the strength will with the burden grow,
  That God makes instruments to work His will,
  If but that will we can arrive to know,
  Nor tamper with the weights of good and ill.
  So he went forth to battle, on the side
  That he felt clear was Liberty's and Right's,
  As in his peasant boyhood he had plied
  His warfare with rude Nature's thwarting mights--
  The uncleared forest, the unbroken soil,
  The iron-bark, that turns the lumberer's axe,
  The rapid that o'erbears the boatman's toil,
  The prairie hiding the mazed wanderer's tracks,
  The ambushed Indian, and the prowling bear--
  Such were the deeds that helped his youth to train:
  Rough culture--but such trees large fruit may bear,
  If but their stocks be of right girth and grain.

  So he grew up a destined work to do,
  And lived to do it: four long-suffering years.
  Ill-fate, ill-feeling, ill-report lived through,
  And then he heard the hisses changed to cheers,
  The taunts to tribute, the abuse to praise,
  And took both with the same unwavering mood:

  Till, as he came on light, from darkling days
  And seemed to touch the goal from where he stood,
  A felon hand, between the goal and him,
  Reached from behind his back, a trigger prest,
  And those perplexed and patient eyes were dim,
  Those gaunt, long-laboring limbs were laid to rest!
  The words of mercy were upon his lips,
  Forgiveness in his Heart and on his pen,
  When this vile murderer brought swift eclipse
  To thoughts of peace on earth, good will to men.

  The Old World and the New, from sea to sea,
  Utter one voice of sympathy and shame.
  Sore heart, so stopped when it at last beat high!
  Sad life, cut short just as its triumph came!
  A deed accurst! Strokes have been struck before
  By the assassin's hand, whereof men doubt
  If more of horror or disgrace they bore;
  But thy foul crime, like Cain's, stands darkly out,
  Vile hand, that brandest murder on a strife,
  Whate'er its grounds, stoutly and nobly striven,
  And with the martyr's crown crownest a life
  With much to praise, little to be forgiven.

[E] The authorship of this poem seems to be surrounded by somewhat
of a doubt. Mark Lemon, editor of Punch at the time when this was
written, is sometimes accredited with writing the tribute; then again,
Spielman's History of Punch ascribes it to Shirley Brooks, who also was
editor of Punch for a few years.

The poem first appeared anonymously in the London Punch, May 6, 1865.
Accompanying it was an engraving of Brittania mourning at Lincoln's
bier and placing a wreath thereon. Columbia was represented as weeping
at the head of the President, and at the foot of the bier was a slave
with broken shackles. Underneath was the inscription, "Brittania
sympathizes with Columbia."

It is now generally believed that the author of the famous tribute was
the journalist and dramatist, Tom Taylor, the author of the comedy,
Our American Cousin, a performance of which President Lincoln was
witnessing at the time of his assassination.


LINCOLN

Henry Tyrrell

  Lincoln arose! the masterful, great man,
  Girt with rude grandeur, quelling doubt and fear,--
  A more than king, yet in whose veins there ran
  The red blood of the people, warm, sincere,
  Blending of Puritan and Cavalier.
  A will whose force stern warriors came to ask,
  A heart that melted at a mother's tear--
  These brought he to his superhuman task:
  Over a tragic soul he wore a comic mask.

  He was the South's child more than of the North!
  His soul was not compact of rock and snow,
  But such as old Kentucky's soil gives forth,--
  The splendid race of giants that we know,
  Firm unto friend, and loyal unto foe,
  Such birthrights all environment forestall,
  Resistlessly their tides of impulse flow.
  This man who answered to his country's call
  Was full of human faults, and nobler for them all.

  He is a life, and not a legend, yet:
  For thousands live who shook him by the hand,
  Millions whose sympathies with his were set,
  Whose hopes and griefs alike with his were grand,
  Who deeply mourned his passing. They demand
  Our homage to the greatest man they saw,--
  They, his familiars; and throughout our land
  The years confirm them, over race and law:
  Even of rancor now the voice is hush'd in awe.


THE BLUE AND THE GRAY

Francis Miles Finch

 The women of Columbus, Mississippi, had shown themselves impartial in
 the offerings made to the memory of the dead. They strewed flowers
 alike on the graves of the Confederates and of the National soldiers.

  By the flow of the inland river,
    Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
  Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,
    Asleep are the ranks of the dead;
  Under the sod and the dew,
    Waiting the judgment day;
  Under the one, the Blue;
    Under the other, the Gray.

  These in the robings of glory,
    Those in the gloom of defeat;
  All with the battle-blood gory,
    In the dusk of eternity meet;
  Under the sod and the dew,
    Waiting the judgment day;
  Under the laurel, the Blue;
    Under the willow, the Gray.

  From the silence of sorrowful hours,
    The desolate mourners go,
  Lovingly laden with flowers,
    Alike for the friend and the foe;
  Under the sod and the dew,
    Waiting the judgment day;
  Under the roses, the Blue;
    Under the lilies, the Gray.

  So, with an equal splendor,
    The morning sun-rays fall,
  With a touch impartially tender,
    On the blossoms blooming for all;
  Under the sod and the dew,
    Waiting the judgment day;
  Broidered with gold, the Blue,
    Mellowed with gold, the Gray.

  So, when the summer calleth,
    On forest and field of grain,
  With an equal murmur falleth
    The cooling drip of the rain;
  Under the sod and the dew,
    Waiting the judgment day;
  Wet with the rain, the Blue;
    Wet with the rain, the Gray.

  Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
    The generous deed was done;
  In the storm of the years that are fading,
    No braver battle was won;
  Under the sod and the dew,
    Waiting the judgment day;
  Under the blossoms, the Blue;
    Under the garlands, the Gray.

  No more shall the war cry sever,
    Or the winding rivers be red;
  They banish our anger forever,
    When they laurel the graves of our dead.
  Under the sod and the dew,
    Waiting the judgment day;
  Love and tears for the Blue,
    Tears and love for the Gray.


LINCOLN: A MAN CALLED OF GOD

John Mellen Thurston

 Extract from an address delivered before the Chicago Lincoln
 Association, February 12, 1891.

God's providence has raised up a leader in every time of a people's
exceeding need.

Moses, reared in the family of Pharaoh, initiated in the sublime
mysteries of the priestcraft of Egypt, partaking of the power and
splendor of royal family and favor, himself a ruler and almost a king,
was so moved by the degraded and helpless condition of his enslaved
brethren that for their sake he undertook what to human understanding
seemed the impossible problem of deliverance....

A peasant girl, a shepherdess, dreaming on the hills of France, feels
her simple heart burn with the story of her country's wrongs. Its army
beaten, shattered and dispersed; its fields laid waste; its homes
pillaged and burned; its people outraged and murdered; its prince
fleeing for life before a triumphant and remorseless foe. Hope for
France was dead. Heroes, there were none to save. What could a woman
do?

Into the soul of this timid, unlettered mountain maid there swept a
flood of glorious resolve. Some power, unknown to man, drew back the
curtain from the glass of fate and bade her look therein. As in a
vision, she sees a new French army, courageous, hopeful, victorious,
invincible. A girl, sword in hand, rides at its head; before it the
invaders flee. She sees France restored, her fields in bloom, her
cottages in peace, her people happy, her prince crowned.

The rail-splitter of Illinois became President of the United States in
the darkest hour of the nation's peril. Inexperienced and untrained
in governmental affairs, he formulated national politics, overruled
statesmen, directed armies, removed generals, and, when it became
necessary to save the Republic, set at naught the written Constitution.
He amazed the politicians and offended the leaders of his party;
but the people loved him by instinct, and followed him blindly. The
child leads the blind man through dangerous places, not by reason of
controlling strength and intelligence, but by certainty of vision.
Abraham Lincoln led the nation along its obscure pathway, for his
vision was above the clouds, and he stood in the clear sunshine of
God's indicated will.

So stands the mountain while the murky shadows thicken at its base,
beset by the tempest, lashed by the storm, darkness and desolation on
every side; no gleam of hope in the lightning's lurid lances, nor voice
of safety in the crashing thunder-bolts; but high above the top-most
mist, vexed by no wave of angry sound, kissed by the sun of day, wooed
by the stars at night, the eternal summit lifts its snowy crest,
crowned with the infinite serenity of peace.

"And God said--let there be light, and there was light." Light on the
ocean, light on the land.

"And God said--let there be light, and there was light." Light from the
cross of calvary, light from the souls of men.

"And God said--let there be light, and there was light'." Light from
the emancipation proclamation, light on the honor of the nation, light
on the Constitution of the United States, light on the black faces of
patient bondmen, light on every standard of freedom throughout the
world.

From the hour in which the cause of the Union became the cause of
liberty, from the hour in which the flag of the Republic became the
flag of humanity, from the hour in which the stars and stripes no
longer floated over a slave; yea, from the sacred hour of the nation's
new birth, that dear old banner never faded from the sky, and the brave
boys who bore it never wavered in their onward march to victory....

After a quarter of a century of peace and prosperity, all children of
our common country kneel at the altar of a reunited faith. The Blue
and Gray lie in eternal slumber side by side. Heroes all, they fell
face to face, brother against brother, to expiate a nation's sin. The
lonely firesides and the unknown graves, the memory of the loved, the
yearning for the lost, the desolated altars and the broken hopes, are
past recall. The wings of our weak protests beat in vain against the
iron doors of fate. But through the mingled tears that fall alike upon
the honored dead of both, the North and South turn hopeful eyes to that
new future of prosperity and power, possible only in the shelter of the
dear old flag. To the conquerors and the conquered, to the white man
and the black, to the master and the slave, Abraham Lincoln was God's
providence.


JONATHAN TO JOHN

James Russell Lowell

 This poetic effusion of Mr. Hosea Biglow was preceded by the Idyl of
 the Bridge and the Monument, which set forth another side of American
 feeling at the British words and deeds consequent on the unauthorized
 capture, by Commodore Wilkes, of the Trent, conveying to England two
 Confederate Commissioners.

  It don't seem hardly right, John,
    When both my hands was full,
  To stump me to a fight, John--
    Your cousin, tu, John Bull!
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess
          We know it now," sez he,
  "The lion's paw is all the law,
      Accordin' to J. B.,
      Thet's fit for you an' me!"

  You wonder why we're hot, John?
    Your mark wuz on the guns,
  The neutral guns, thet shot, John,
    Our brothers an' our sons:
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess
          There's human blood," sez he,
  "By fits an' starts, in Yankee hearts,
      Though 't may surprise J. B.
      More'n it would you an' me."

  Ef _I_ turned mad dogs loose, John,
    On _your_ front-parlor stairs,
  Would it jest meet your views, John,
    To wait and sue their heirs?
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess,
          I only guess," sez he,
  "Thet ef Vattel on _his_ toes fell,
      'T would kind o' rile J. B.,
      Ez wal ez you an' me!"

  Who made the law thet hurts, John,
    _Heads I win,--ditto tails_?
  "_J. B._" was on his shirts, John,
    Onless my memory fails.
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess
          (I'm good at thet)," sez he,
  "Thet sauce for goose ain't jest the juice
      For ganders with J. B.,
      No more than you or me!"

  When your rights was our wrongs, John,
    You didn't stop for fuss,--
  Britanny's trident prongs, John,
    Was good 'nough law for us.
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess,
          Though physic's good," sez he,
  "It doesn't foller that he can swaller
      Prescriptions signed '_J. B._,'
      Put up by you an' me!"

  We own the ocean, tu, John:
    You mus'n' take it hard,
  If we can't think with you, John,
    It's jest your own back-yard.
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess,
          If _thet's_ his claim," sez he,
  "The fencin'-stuff 'll cost enough
      To bust up friend J. B.,
      Ez wal ez you an' me!"

  Why talk so dreffle big, John,
    Of honor when it meant
  You didn't care a fig, John,
    But jest for _ten per cent_?
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess
          He's like the rest," sez he:
  "When all is done, it's number one
      Thet's nearest to J. B.,
      Ez wal ez you an' me!"

  We give the critters back, John,
    Cos Abram thought 't was right;
  It warn't your bullyin' clack, John,
    Provokin' us to fight.
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess
          We've a hard row," sez he,
  "To hoe jest now; but thet somehow,
      May happen to J. B.,
      Ez wal ez you an' me!"

  We ain't so weak an' poor, John,
    With twenty million people,
  An' close to every door, John,
    A school-house an' a steeple.
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess
          It is a fact," sez he,
  "The surest plan to make a Man
      Is, think him so, J. B.,
      Ez much ez you an' me!"

  Our folks believe in Law, John;
    An' it's for her sake, now,
  They've left the ax an' saw, John,
    The anvil an' the plough.
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess,
          Ef 't warn't for law," sez he,
  "There'd be one shindy from here to Indy;
      An' thet don't suit J. B.
      (When 't ain't twixt you an' me!)"

  We know we've got a cause, John,
    Thet's honest, just an' true;
  We thought 't would win applause, John,
    Ef nowheres else, from you.
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess
          His love of right," sez he,
  "Hangs by a rotten fibre o' cotton:
      There's nature in J. B.,
      Ez wal ez you an' me!"

  The South says, "_Poor folks down!_" John,
    An' "_All men up!_" say we,--
  White, yaller, black, an' brown, John:
    Now which is your idee?
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess,
          John preaches wal," sez he;
  "But, sermon thru, an' come to _du_,
      Why, there's the old J. B.
      A crowdin' you an' me!"

  Shall it be love, or hate, John,
    It's you thet's to decide;
  Ain't your bonds held by Fate, John,
    Like all the world's beside?
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess
          Wise men forgive," sez he,
  "But not forget; an' some time yet
      Thet truth may strike J. B.,
      Ez wal ez you an me!"

  God means to make this land, John,
    Clear thru, from sea to sea,
  Believe an' understand, John,
    The _wuth_ o' bein' free.
          Ole Uncle S., sez he, "I guess,
          God's price is high," sez he:
  "But nothin' else than wut He sells
      Wears long, an' thet J. B.
      May larn, like you an' me!"


NO SLAVE BENEATH THE FLAG

George Lansing Taylor

  No slave beneath that starry flag,
    The emblem of the free!
  No fettered hand shall wield the brand
    That smites for liberty:
  No tramp of servile armies
    Shall shame Columbia's shore,
  For he who fights for freedom's rights
    Is free for evermore!

         *       *       *       *       *

  Go tell the brave of every land,
    Where'er that flag has flown--
  The tyrant's fear, the patriot's cheer,
    Through every clime and zone--
  That now no more forever
    Its stripes are slavery scars;
  No tear-drops stain its azure plain
    Nor dim its golden stars.

  No slave beneath that grand old flag!
    Forever let it fly,
  With lightning rolled in every fold,
    And flashing victory!
  God's blessing breathe around it!
    And when all strife is done,
  May freedom's light, that knows no night,
    Make every star a sun!


TRIBUTES TO LINCOLN

  Grave Lincoln came, strong-handed, from afar--
  The mighty Homer of the lyre of war!
  'T was he who bade the raging tempest cease,
  Wrenched from his strings the harmony of peace,
  Muted the strings that made the discord--Wrong,
  And gave his spirit up in thund'rous song,
  Oh, mighty Master of the mighty lyre!
  Earth heard and trembled at thy strains of fire:
  Earth learned of thee what Heav'n already knew,
  And wrote thee down among the treasured few!

                                         --_Paul Laurence Dunbar, 1899_

  From humble parentage and poverty, old Nature reared him,
  And the world beheld her ablest, noblest man;
  Few were his joys, many and terrible his trials,
  But grandly he met them as only truly great souls can!
  Our Nation's Martyr, pure, honest, patient, tender--
  Thou who didst suffer agony e'en for the slave--
  Our flag's defender, our brave, immortal teacher!
  I lay this humble tribute on thy honored grave.

                                                  --_Paul DeVere, 1899_

  We rest in peace where these sad eyes
    Saw peril, strife, and pain;
  His was the nation's sacrifice,
    And ours the priceless gain.

                                                   --_John G. Whittier_

 His patriotism, his integrity, his purity, his moderation will
 contribute largely to make the American people patriotic, honest, and
 upright.... His life, his teaching, and his character will prolong the
 life of the Republic.

                                                    --_Isaac N. Arnold_

 His mind was strong and deep, sincere and honest, patient and
 enduring: having no vices, and having only negative defects, with
 many positive virtues. His is a strong, honest, sagacious, manly,
 noble life. He stands in the foremost ranks of men in all ages--their
 equal--one of the best types of this Christian civilization.

                                                      --_W. H. Herndon_

 There is in the whole history of this Republic not one man, from whom
 we all--wherever born and whatever our political opinions--can learn
 more instructive and more inspiring lessons as to what true patriotism
 is: and there is but one who is fully his peer in this respect. To
 be pitied is, indeed, the American whose way of feeling and thinking
 will not allow him to look with infinite patriotic pride upon Abraham
 Lincoln.

                                                     --_H. E. VonHolst_

 Lincoln was the grandest figure of the fiercest civil war.... Wealth
 could not purchase, power could not awe, this divine, this loving
 man. He knew no fear except the fear of doing wrong. Hating slavery,
 pitying the master--seeking to conquer not persons, but prejudices. He
 was the embodiment of the self-denial, the courage, the hope, and the
 nobility of the nation. He spoke, not to inflame, not to upbraid, but
 to convince. He raised his hands, not to strike, but in benediction.

                                                --_Robert G. Ingersoll_

 Lincoln was the humblest of the humble before his conscience, greatest
 of the great before history.

                                                           --_Castelar_

 Abraham Lincoln was the vindication of poverty. He gave glory to the
 lowly. In the light of his life the cabin became conspicuous; the
 commonest toil no longer common, and the poor man's hardship a road to
 honor. It put shame on the prejudice of wealth and birth, and dignity
 on common manhood. The poor received from him inspiring hope; he
 taught the humblest youth that there was for him a path to power.

                                                --_Luther Laflin Mills_

  May one who fought in honor for the South
  Uncovered stand and sing by Lincoln's grave?

         *       *       *       *       *

  He was the North, the South, the East, the West,
  The thrall, the master, all of us in one;
  There was no section that he held the best;
  His love shone as impartial as the sun;
  And so revenge appealed to him in vain,
  He smiled at it, as at a thing forlorn,
  And gently put it from him, rose and stood
  A moment's space in pain,
  Remembering the prairies and the corn
  And the glad voices of the field and wood.

                                             --_Maurice Thompson, 1893_

 They bowed before the bier of him who had been prophet, priest and
 king to his people, who had struck the shackles from the slave, who
 had taught a higher sense of duty to the free men, who had raised the
 Nation to a loftier conception of faith and hope and charity.

                                                    --_James G. Blaine_

  His was a name so pure, a life so grand,
  That Lincoln's a magic name throughout the land.

                                                   --_Jos. C. Sindelar_

 In his mentality, he shone in judgment, common sense, consistency,
 persistence and in knowledge of men. In his words, he was candid
 and frank, but accurate and concise, speaking sturdy Anglo-Saxon
 unadorned, powerful in its simplicity and the subdued enthusiasm of
 earnest thought. In his sentiments, he was kind and patient and brave.
 No leader ever more completely combined in his personality the graces
 of gentleness with rugged determination. In his morals, Truth was his
 star; Honesty the vital air of his living. In his religion, he was
 faithful as a giant; Providence was his stay; he walked with God.

                                                --_Luther Laflin Mills_

 His constant thought was his country and how to serve it.

                                                     --_Charles Sumner_

 His career teaches young men that every position of eminence is open
 before the diligent and worthy.

                                             --_Bishop Matthew Simpson_

 Such a life and character will be treasured forever as the sacred
 possession of the American people and of mankind.

                                                  --_James A. Garfield_

 By his fidelity to the True, the Right, the Good, he gained not only
 favor and applause, but what is better than all, love.

                                                      --_W. D. Howells_

 He was warm-hearted; he was generous; he was magnanimous, he was most
 truly, as he afterwards said on a memorable occasion, "With malice
 toward none, with charity for all."

                                              --_Alexander H. Stephens_

 Let us build with reverent hands to the type of this simple, but
 sublime life, in which all types are honored.

                                                     --_Henry W. Grady_

 Lincoln was the purest, the most generous, the most magnanimous of men.

                                              --_General W. T. Sherman_

 His chief object, the ideal to which his whole soul was devoted, was
 the preservation of the Union.

                                              --_Alexander H. Stephens_

  O honest face, which all men knew!
  O tender heart, but known to few!

                                                     --_R. H. Stoddard_

  Who can be what he was to the people,
    What he was to the State?
  Shall the ages bring us another
    As good and as great?

                                                        --_Phoebe Cary_

 Lincoln was the greatest President in American history, because in a
 time of revolution he comprehended the spirit of American institutions.

                                                       --_Lyman Abbott_

 He was one of the few great rulers whose wisdom increased with his
 power, and whose spirit grew gentler and tenderer as his triumphs were
 multiplied.

                                                  --_James A. Garfield_

 With all his disappointments from failures on the part of those to
 whom he had trusted command, and treachery on the part of those who
 had gained his confidence but to betray it, I never heard him utter a
 complaint, nor cast a censure for bad conduct or bad faith. It was his
 nature to find excuses for his adversaries. In his death the nation
 lost its greatest hero.

                                                        --_U. S. Grant_

 The best way to estimate the value of Lincoln is to think what the
 condition of America would be today if he had never lived--never been
 President.

                                                       --_Walt Whitman_

 He had a face and manner which disarmed suspicion, which inspired
 confidence, which confirmed good will.

                                                      --_R. W. Emerson_

 The life of Lincoln should never be passed by in silence by old or
 young. He touched the log cabin and it became the palace in which
 greatness was nurtured. He touched the forest and it became to him a
 church in which the purest and noblest worship of God was observed. In
 Lincoln there was always some quality which fastened him to the people
 and taught them to keep time to the music of his heart. He reveals to
 us the beauty of plain backwoods honesty.

                                                  --_Prof. David Swing_

 The shepherd of the people! that old name that the best rulers ever
 craved. What ruler ever won it like this dead President of ours? He
 fed us with counsel when we were in doubt, with inspiration when we
 faltered, with caution when we would be rash, with calm, trustful
 cheerfulness through many an hour when our hearts were dark. He fed
 hungry souls all over the country with sympathy and consolation.
 He spread before the whole land feasts of great duty, devotion and
 patriotism, on which the land grew strong. He taught us the sacredness
 of government, the wickedness of treason. He made our souls glad and
 vigorous with the love of liberty that was his.

                                               --_Rev. Phillips Brooks_


QUOTATIONS FROM LINCOLN

WITH malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the
right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish
the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him
who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan; to
do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among
ourselves and with all nations.


I have one vote, and I shall always cast that against wrong as long as
I live.


In every event of life, it is right makes might.


The mystic cords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and
patriot grave, to every living heart and hearthstone, all over this
broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched,
as surely they will be, by the angels of our nature.


Let us have faith that right makes might, and in that faith let us to
the end dare to do our duty as we understand it.


Gold is good in its place; but loving, brave, patriotic men are better
than gold.


God must like common people, or he would not have made so many of them.


The reasonable man has long since agreed that intemperance is one of
the greatest, if not the greatest, of all evils among mankind.


The purposes of the Almighty are perfect and must prevail, though we
erring mortals may fail accurately to predict them in advance.


No men living are more worthy to be trusted than those who toil up from
poverty.


Of the people, when they rise in mass in behalf of the Union and the
liberties of their country, truly may it be said: 'The gates of hell
cannot prevail against them.'


No man is good enough to govern another man without that other man's
consent.


Let not him who is homeless pull down the house of another, but let him
labor diligently to build one for himself.


You may fool all of the people some of the time, and some of the people
all of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time.


Better give your path to the dog--even killing the dog would not cure
the bite.


The way for a young man to rise is to improve himself in every way he
can, never suspecting that anybody is hindering him.


I say "try," for if we never try, we never succeed.


The pioneer in any movement is not generally the best man to bring that
movement to a successful issue.


Have confidence in yourself, a valuable if not indispensable quality.


Let us judge not, that we be not judged.


When you have an elephant on hand, and he wants to run away, better let
him run.


It is best not to swap horses in the middle of a stream.


This country, with its institutions, belongs to the people who inhabit
it.


A nation may be said to consist of its territory, its people, and its
laws.


When you can't remove an obstacle, _plough around it!_


God bless my mother! All I am or hope to be I owe to her.


I do not think much of a man who is not wiser today than he was
yesterday.


Suspicion and jealousy never did help any man in any situation.



DIALOGUES, PLAYS, EXERCISES


THE SAVIOR OF OUR FLAG AND COUNTRY

Laura R. Smith

A PATRIOTIC CANTATA, DRILL, AND MEDLEY IN THREE SCENES FOR A WHOLE
SCHOOL

 This entertainment is especially adapted for primary and intermediate
 grades, although pupils of all grades may participate.


CHARACTERS

  Six Sailor Boys   }
  Six Soldier Boys  } _Scene I_
  Messenger         }

  Several Drummer Boys        }
  Any Even Number of Soldiers }
  An Army Captain             } _Scene II_
  Scott, _a sentinel_         }
  Old Soldier                 }
  Several Negro Boys          }

  Three Boys            }
  Two Girls             } Scene III
  Seven Small Children  }


SCENE I--Before the War

Six Sailor Boys enter from the right, Six Soldier Boys enter from the
left. They march forward in two lines, carrying flags, pause and sing.
Cross flags or wave them while singing the last four lines.

Sailor and Soldier Boys (_sing_):

_Tune_: COLUMBIA, THE GEM OF THE OCEAN

  The flag of our nation we're bringing,
    The banner for me and for you;
  As songs of dear Lincoln we're singing,
    We stand 'neath the Red, White and Blue,
  O flag of a nation united,
    We love your bright folds and your stars,
  We march 'neath the bonnie bright banner,
    This good land of freedom is ours.
  We'll stand by the Red, White and Blue,
  We'll stand by the Red, White and Blue,
  The flag of our nation forever,
  We'll stand by the Red, White and Blue!

  See, the bonnie bright banners are streaming,
    We wave them all high in the air,
  The Red, White and Blue now is gleaming,
    Beloved by all men everywhere.
  Oh, long may the banner be waving,
    Upheld by soldiers and sailors true;
  Three cheers for the flag of our nation,
    We'll stand by the Red, White and Blue,
  We'll stand by the Red, White and Blue,
  We'll stand by the Red, White and Blue,
  The flag of our nation forever,
  We'll stand by the Red, White and Blue.

(Boys _march forward and back_, Soldiers _in one line abreast_, Sailors
_in another, following_. _Lines march right and left_, Sailors _from
one side of stage_, Soldiers _from the other, pass each other several
times at center of stage_. _Halt at center of stage, the two lines
facing each other, close ranks at back and spread out at front, forming
an open triangle, thus_ [Greek: lambda].)

Soldiers:

  _We're_ the boys of the land!
    We'll always be true
  To the flag of the Union,
    The Red, White and Blue.

Sailors:

  We're the boys of the sea!
    Wherever we sail
  The Red, White and Blue
    Shall weather each gale.

All (_waving flags_):

  The boys of the land and the boys of the sea,
  Sing a song for our banner, the flag of the free,
  The Union forever, for me and for you,
  Three cheers for our banner, the Red, White and Blue.

All (_sing, waving flags during chorus_):

  HURRAH FOR THE FLAG![F]

  There are many flags in many lands,
    There are flags of ev'ry hue,
  But there is no flag, however grand,
    Like our own Red, White and Blue.

  _Chorus_:

  Then hurrah for the flag! our country's flag,
    Its stripes and white stars, too;
  There is no flag in any land
    Like our own Red, White and Blue!

[F] By Mary H. Howliston. From Cat Tails and Other Tales, by this
author, in which book music for words given here will be found. Price,
paper binding, twenty-five cents; cloth binding, forty cents.

(_Enter_ Messenger _from the back, marches between the two lines to the
front_. Boys _form in semicircle behind him_.)

Messenger:

  What threatens the Union
    In this land of ours?
  There appears a new flag,
    Of the Stars and Bars.
  "United we stand,
    Divided we fall."
  Who now can save us?
    On whom shall we call?

First Soldier:

  From Lincoln I have come today
              Our Lincoln!
    With justice he will take his place,
              Our Lincoln!
    With courage on his noble brow,
    He will protect the Union now,
    We all salute; to him we bow,
              Our Lincoln!

(All _give Flag Salute_.)

Messenger:

  From Lincoln I have come today
    To call for Volunteers!
  Other messengers are on their way
    To call for Volunteers.
  Shall we now see our flag bowed low?
  No, to meet the Southerners we'll go,
  Marching while the bugles blow
    The call for Volunteers!

All:

  The time has come for strife and war,
        Blow, bugles, blow!
  The soldier boys are called once more,
        Blow, bugles, blow!

  Bear your message far and wide,
  Ring out through all the countryside,
  We are a Nation's hope and pride,
        Blow, bugles, blow!

(_Exit_ All, _as bugle call is heard_.)


SCENE II--The War

Several boys with drums march in front of tents, which have been
arranged on the stage. They sing, beating drums softly during chorus,
and march around the tents.

_Tune_: MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA

toward the battlefield, O, see the army come. Rat-a-tat, a-rat-a-tat,
So loudly beats the drum, While we are singing of Lincoln.

_Chorus_: Hurrah! hurrah! who'll be a Volunteer? Hurrah! hurrah! O what
have we to fear? Join the chorus every one, the army marches on, While
we are singing of Lincoln.

Marching on to victory, O, hear the drums beat low, Marching on to
victory, Now see the army go. Wave the bonnie stars and stripes, Up
high where all may see, While we are singing of Lincoln.

_Chorus_: Hurrah! hurrah! etc.

(Drummer Boys _retire to tents. Enter_ Soldier Boys, _carrying guns.
They are led by a_ Captain, _who gives the commands in the following
drill_:)

Boys march by 2's, 4's or 6's and line up for drill.

Drill

Salute! Gun held in right hand, top resting on shoulder, raise left
hand to forehead.

Present, arms! Hold gun in front with right hand, grasp with left hand.

Order, arms! Large end of gun on floor, gun held by right hand, left
hand at side.

Shoulder, arms! Guns on right shoulder.

Port, arms! Grasp gun in center, with right hand, hold diagonally
across chest.

Extend, arms right! Hold with both hands, right arm extended, left hand
resting on chest.

Extend, arms left! Same with left arm extended, etc.

Aim! Rest gun on shoulder, raised with both hands.

About, face! Face around.

Forward, march! March about tents, while tune of TRAMP, TRAMP, TRAMP,
THE BOYS ARE MARCHING, is softly played. Retire in or back of tents.

(_A sentinel_, Scott, _comes out to keep guard, walks up and down many
times, and finally leans up against one of the tents and falls asleep.
He is discovered by the_ Captain, _who comes on stage_.)

  Captain (_comes forward_):

  What ho! the guard is asleep!
    What, then, if the enemy come,
  Creeping stealthily over the hill
    With never the sound of drum?
  By surprise our camp they'd take.
  Sleeping guard, awake! awake!

  (Scott _awakes and salutes_ Captain.)

  Captain:

  For this offense you shall be tried,
    'Twas indeed a sad mistake.
  Who shall guard the camp tonight,
    If no guard here is awake?

  Soldiers (_come forward_):

  'Tis wearisome the watch to keep,
  Alas! alas! he fell asleep!

  (Scott _is led off by_ Soldiers _to be tried by court-martial_.)

  Old Soldier (_enters_):

  Scott is a bonnie soldier boy:
    He's honest, brave and true;
  He is worthy still to bear
    The Red and White and Blue.
  Alas! alas! he will come home,
    Sentenced soon to die,
  Beloved by all his comrades, now
    With bowed heads they march by.

(_Re-enter_ All, _singing one verse of_ JUST BEFORE THE BATTLE,
MOTHER.)

  Captain (_to_ Scott):

  There is but one who can save you now;
    From a cabin home he came,
  He is our honored President,
    And Lincoln is his name!
  Then to our honored President,
    For pardon we will go,
  We will march if there be hope
    No more with heads bowed low.

(_Exit_ All.)

(Boys, _in make-up of negroes enter. They sing the following song, and
imitate banjo playing while singing the chorus._)

THE SUNNY SOUTHLAND[G]

  'Way down in the sunny Southland,
    Lives the little black boy, you know,
  His mother sings a lullaby,
    To the tune of the old banjo.

  _Chorus_: Plunkety-plunk, plunkety-plunk,
    Down in the cotton-field we go.
  Plunkety-plunk, plunkety-plunk,
    Plunkety-plunk, plunk-plunk, banjo.

  'Way down in the sunny Southland,
    Where the sky is so bright and blue,
  The black boy on the banjo strings
    Likes to play the same tune to you.

  _Chorus_: Plunkety-plunk, etc.

  'Way down in the sunny Southland
    You will hear this sweet lullaby,
  The wee black boy must go to sleep,
    For the Sandman is passing by.

  _Chorus_: Plunkety-plunk, etc.

  Soldiers (_return, shouting_):

  Hurrah! Scott is pardoned.

(_They repeat the last four lines of their first song and march off._)

[G] Music for this will be found under Songs in another part of this
book.


SCENE III--After the War

Lincoln's picture is placed on a ladder or easel, the children that
recite placing flags and garlands of flowers about it.

RECITATION BY THREE BOYS WITH THREE FLAGS

First Boy:

  The flag that speaks of men made free,
    The flag of sword and drum,
  'Tis the bonniest banner in all the world,
    The flag of battles won.

Second Boy:

  The flag that speaks of Gettysburg,
    Upheld by faithful men
  Amid the battle's storm and strife,
    Shall wave for us again.

Third Boy:

  The flag that waves o'er Lincoln now,
    Means freedom for the slave;
  So waves the bonnie stars and stripes
    O'er many a patriot's grave.

All:

  No North, no South, no East, no West,
  A union of all states is best;
  One flag for all is a nation's pride,
  The Blue and the Gray lay side by side.

A Girl (_comes on stage and recites_):

OUR HERO

  Today the flags are flying,
    For a hero that we love;
  We all sing of Lincoln,
    While waves the flag above.
  Bring out the bonnie banners,
    Flags of shining stripes and stars,
  Lincoln was our country's hero,
    And the victory is ours.

Another Girl (_enters and recites_):


OUR LINCOLN

  Crown him with wreaths of evergreen,
          Our Lincoln.
  Bring fairest flowers ever seen,
          For Lincoln.
  Crown him today with fragrant flowers,
  The war is o'er, the victory is ours,
  Above all men this great man towers,
          Our Lincoln.

  Crown him with gentle words of love,
          Our Lincoln;
  And place the banners high above
          For Lincoln.
  Raise high the flag of liberty,
  For one who set the slaves all free,
  Ring out his praises from sea to sea,
          Our Lincoln.

(Children _carrying flags and flowers and having shields on their
breasts, each bearing one letter to spell the word "Lincoln," enter.
The cards bearing the letters are hung from the neck, and when children
enter are blank side toward audience. Each child turns his letter to
view of the audience after reciting his lines and disposing of his
flowers and flag. They stand in order, and when through reciting, place
the flowers and flags around the portrait of Lincoln._)

  L:
    Lincoln's name we all repeat,
    And bring for him our flowers sweet.

  I:
    In peace or war a nation's pride,
    We place our banners by his side.

  N:
    No North, no South today is seen,
    We bring our wreaths of evergreen.

  C:
    Crown him with honest words of love,
    And place the stars and stripes above.

  O:
    One nation and one flag is best,
    Place flowers where our hero rests.

  L:
    Lincoln, we all love to bring
    Tributes, while of thee we sing.

  N:
    No more he hears the bugle's call,
    We scatter flowers over all.

All (_return, grouping themselves nicely and sing_):


LINCOLN DEAR[H]

  Wave the bonnie banners high,
        O Lincoln dear!
  A host of children passing by,
        O Lincoln dear,
  Will sing to you their sweetest song,
  As they now proudly march along,
  For laurels unto you belong,
        O Lincoln dear.

  _Chorus_: Wave the banners high,
                The Red, the White, the Blue;
              Wave the banners high,
                To Lincoln dear we're true.
              O wave the bonnie banners,
                How proudly they all sway,
              We wave the Red, the White, the Blue,
                For Lincoln dear today.

            Bonnie flags shall crown you now,
                  O Lincoln dear,
            We place them by your noble brow,
                  O Lincoln dear,
            And fairer far than monument,
            The love from our young hearts is sent,
            You were our honored President,
                  O Lincoln dear.

  _Chorus_: Wave the banners, etc.

[H] Music for this will be found under Songs in another part of this
book.


A FLAG EXERCISE

L. F. Armitage

FOR EIGHT LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYS, EACH CARRYING A FLAG

First Child:

  What flag is this?

Second:

  This is our country's flag,
    This flag so fine.
  It is my father's flag
    And it is mine.

Third:

What are its colors?

Fourth:

  White stars in a field of blue,
    Stripes white and red.
  See our "Red, White and Blue"
    Waving o'erhead (_waving flags_).

Fifth:

What do these colors mean?

Sixth:

  White means, Be always pure!
    Red means, Be brave!
  Blue means, Be ever true!
    Long may it wave.

Seventh:

Why are the flags up today?

Eighth:

  All these United States,
    Many in one,
  Honor this glorious name--
    Abraham Lincoln.

All (_sing_):

_Tune_: AULD LANG SYNE

  We wave[A] the flag, the bonny flag
    Of red and white and blue.
  This flag that floats o'er land and sea,
    To it we will be true.
  Then[I] hail the flag, this bonny flag,
    We'll give it three times three;
  God bless the land that owns this flag,
    The land of liberty.

                                                  --_Primary Education_

[I] Waving flags.


THE WOODEN FIRE-SHOVEL

Clara J. Denton

A DIALOGUE FOR THREE GIRLS AND TWO BOYS

CHARACTERS

  Mrs. Lincoln, _mother of the family_
  Mr. Lincoln, _father of same_
  Sarah, _step-daughter of Mrs. Lincoln and sister to "Abe"_
  John Johnson,    } _Mrs. Lincoln's children_
  Matilda Johnson, }

COSTUMES

Mrs. Lincoln: Dark calico gown very plainly made, wide gingham apron,
hair parted in the middle, combed straight back from the face, and
arranged in knot at back. Let this character be taller than the other
girls, if possible.

Mr. Lincoln: Blue overalls and blouse. This character should be taller
than the other boys.

Sarah: Short, plainly-made calico gown; hair arranged in two long
braids, fastened together by dark thread.

John Johnston: Blue overalls and blouse, battered fur cap.

Matilda Johnston: Gown like Sarah's although different in color, hair
also done up like Sarah's.

SCENE

 Very plain interior. Pine table at center. Split-bottom rocker near
 it. Two old-fashioned wooden chairs placed a few feet apart at
 right-front, the same at left-front. At left-rear is a pine cupboard,
 on the open shelves of which are some cheap earthen dishes. This
 cupboard must be placed so that the characters can pass behind it to
 reach the suggested fireplace. Several skins of animals may be tacked
 about the walls; a pair of deer-antlers should also be in evidence.
 An old-fashioned gun with powder-horn might be hung in a conspicuous
 position. A wool spinning-wheel would add to the old-time effect.

Mrs. Lincoln and Sarah are discovered; the former, seated in the
rocker, is mending a pair of ragged overalls, which, as she talks, she
from time to time holds up and spreads out as if looking for holes.
Sarah, at rear of stage, is sweeping vigorously.

Mrs. Lincoln: Dear me, Sarah! what a dust you do kick up (_coughs_);
you'll choke me to death.

Sarah (_sweeping more gently_): Excuse me, but you see, the dirt is all
here, and I suppose the only way to get it out _is_ to kick it up; but
I'll try to be more careful.

Voice (_behind scenes_): Abe, Abe, O, Abe.

Mrs. Lincoln: How strange it is that I just can't teach John not to
stand and call out that way. I've tried ever since he was a baby to
make him go to anyone that he wants.

Sarah: I suppose he thinks it doesn't matter as long as he's just
calling Abe.

Mrs. Lincoln: But it does matter, because it's a bad habit, and a bad
habit is mighty easy to get and mighty hard to lose. I don't have a bit
of trouble teaching all those things to Abe. Dear me, he's such a good,
obedient boy; I don't believe he'll live to grow up (_sighs_).

Sarah: O, yes he will, mother; he's too full of mischief to die;
besides, he's the strongest boy for his age that there is anywhere
around here. He picked Matilda and me both up yesterday and carried us
clear to the woods. We kicked and screamed (_laughs_) and squirmed,
but oh my! we're just like a pair of dolls to him. He set us down at
the edge of the woods, then started on a run. We started too, but he
was in the barn and clear at the top of the corn-stalks stacked in the
mow before we were half way to the house (_laughs_). Don't worry about
his dying, mother.

Voice (_again_): Abe, Abe, O, Abe.

Mrs. Lincoln: What shall I do with that boy?

Sarah: Don't do anything. Just let him keep right on howling until he
gets tired of it.

Mrs. Lincoln: But I'm tired of hearing him.

Sarah: Shall I go and make him keep still? (_Laughs and gesticulates._)

John (_enters at right_): Where's Abe, mother? I've been calling and
calling him. (_Sits in chair at right-front._)

Sarah: Yes, we thought we heard something.

Mrs. Lincoln: Take off your hat, my son. I do wish you didn't need
telling that so often.

John (_removes hat_): But I want Abe.

Mrs. Lincoln: What for?

John: To help me carry in the wood. There's a big storm coming.

Mrs. Lincoln: Well, he isn't here.

John: Isn't here? What do you mean? I didn't see him go away.

Mrs. Lincoln: No, he went away while you were gone to the woods with
your father's lunch. This is his birthday, so I let him walk to
Gentryville to get me some thread. You folks wear out your clothes so
fast that it takes a lot of thread to keep you from being bundles of
rags.

John (_sulkily_): And must I get that wood in all alone?

Mrs. Lincoln: That won't hurt you. Don't you remember the other day
when you had the tooth-ache, Abe got in all the wood and wouldn't let
you do a thing?

Matilda (_enters at left from behind cupboard_): Hurry up, John, and
bring in some wood, the fire is getting low. Don't you feel chilly,
mother?

Mrs. Lincoln: Yes, it is getting cold here. Run along, John, that's a
good boy. Abe will get it all in tomorrow night, I'm sure.

Sarah: Yes, or else when he's rich and famous maybe he'll let you live
with him. Mother is so sure he's bound to be a great man.

John (_rising_): O, well, Abe's all right, I don't mind.

Mrs. Lincoln: Yes, you children like to laugh at the things I say about
Abe, but I know any boy--or girl either, for that matter--who's so
anxious to learn, can't help amounting to something some day. You just
wait and see.

Mr. Lincoln (_enters at right_): What's that, mother? What shall we see
if we wait? Guess we'll have to wait a good while if we see anything
very great around these diggings.

Sarah: O, ma's just bragging about Abe again.

Mr. Lincoln (_goes to_ Mrs. Lincoln _and lays hand on her shoulder_):
You're good to the chap, Sallie, that's a fact. I'm glad I brought you
here to be a mother to him. But sometimes I wonder if it's just the
thing for you to encourage him to do so much reading, for I know you do
encourage him.

Matilda: I should say she does! Why, the rest of us young ones have to
go around on our tip-toes and talk in whispers when Abe gets his nose
in a book.

Mr. Lincoln: Isn't that a little hard on the others, Sallie?

Matilda (_quickly_): Oh, my! _we_ don't mind. We _like_ to have Abe
read, and we think he's mighty good to tell the rest of us all about
what he reads.

Sarah: That he does. You just ought to hear him, pa, tell the story of
Pilgrim's Progress.

Matilda: O, pa wouldn't like that as well as he would Æsop's Fables;
just get him to tell you some of _those_ stories some time.

John: And all about Robinson Crusoe, too, pa, and the queer times he
had. You'd like _that_, I know.

Mr. Lincoln: Well, it may be all right, but I don't like to see a big,
strapping boy like Abe spending his time over books, to say nothing of
the hours he wastes running around borrowing them. Why, I'll bet he has
read every book in this county.

Mrs. Lincoln: So he has! He was wishing just the other day that he knew
of some more books that he could borrow: he said he had "read every
book that he had heard of within a circuit of fifty miles."

Matilda: And, pa, if you could only hear him when he climbs on the
table and makes speeches. I just tell you, Abe is heaps of fun.

Mr. Lincoln: I dare say he is, but that doesn't get the work done.
It's all right for sickly fellows to be spending their time getting
learning, but a big, strong fellow like Abe will always be able to earn
his living by hard work.

Mrs. Lincoln: Of course he'll be _able_ to, but you'll find out he'll
not do it. I tell you there are other plans laid away in that big head
of his.

Mr. Lincoln: Well, well, he'll have you to thank if he ever does amount
to anything, that's sure. (_Shivers._) But it's cold in here, what on
earth is the matter with your fire?

John (_aside_): Time for me to run. (_Exit at right, hurriedly._)

Mr. Lincoln (_turning toward cupboard_): It's funny you young ones
can't look after the fire when ma's busy.

John, you go bring in some wood! (_Looks around._) O, he's gone after
it, I guess--about time. (_Disappears behind cupboard._)

Mrs. Lincoln (_to girls_): Don't tell pa that John was waiting for Abe
to help him. If you do they'll both get a scolding, maybe.

Matilda: And you, too, for letting Abe go away. (All _laugh_.)

(John _enters at right, carrying wood, which he drops noisily behind
cupboard_.)

Mrs. Lincoln (_starting up_): John, why do you drop the wood in that
noisy way? (John _re-appears and comes down_.) After all my talking to
you, it does seem as if you might learn to be more quiet about it.

Matilda: Yes, when Abe----

Sarah (_catching her by the arm_): Hush, Matilda! if you keep on (_they
come down to right front_) you'll make John hate Abe. Don't hold him up
to John _all_ the time as a pattern.

Matilda (_sighs_): But, you know, Sarah, Abe is so different. He never
does any of those disagreeable things that John is always doing. I
remember, when we first came here, ma told Abe to take off his hat when
he came into the house, and she never has had to tell him the second
time; but she is still trying to hammer it into John.

Sarah: Yes, dear, I know, and Abe is so kind to everyone and so
thoughtful of other people's comfort. I am so glad he is my brother,
and I only wish I were half as good and kind as he.

Matilda: Yes, and so jolly, too.

Sarah: Only sometimes he looks so sad--that must be when he's hungry
for more books.

John (_coming towards them_): What are you two girls talking about over
here?

(Mr. Lincoln _appears from behind cupboard, carrying a large wooden
shovel, the blade of which is covered with black figures. He comes
down, confronting_ Mrs. Lincoln.)

Mr. Lincoln: Mother, what in the world is this?

Mrs. Lincoln (_laughing_): O, those are Abe's sums.

Mr. Lincoln: Sums! I vum! Sums! What did he make them with?

Mrs. Lincoln: A piece of burnt wood.

Mr. Lincoln: I vum! Sums! Where did he learn to _do_ sums?

Mrs. Lincoln: O, he picked it up.

Mr. Lincoln: I bet you taught him! didn't you, Sallie? Come now, own up.

Mrs. Lincoln: Well, I helped him a little, but he's far ahead of me
now; he's ciphered clear through that old ragged arithmetic that's been
kicking around the house.

Mr. Lincoln (_turning shovel over_): But both sides are covered. What's
he going to do now?

Mrs. Lincoln: O, he'll take the shaving knife and whittle it all off,
then he'll have a "new slate," as he says.

Mr. Lincoln (_holding up shovel_): A new slate! Sums! Well, I vum!

(_Whistle heard behind scenes._)

Mrs. Lincoln (_rising_): There he comes now. Put the shovel away, and
don't scold him, pa.

Mr. Lincoln: Sums! I vum! (_Exit quickly behind cupboard._)

Curtain


THE PROPHECY

Clara J. Denton

A DIALOGUE FOR ONE GIRL AND TWO BOYS

CHARACTERS

  John      Thomas      Helen

COSTUMES

 The characters wear suits made as nearly as possible in the style of
 seventy years ago. For hints as to proper styles consult pictures in
 old books--a brief description is, however, given.

 The boys' trousers are long and loose; the jackets are short and
 tight-fitting, with small sleeves. The jackets are made open in front,
 and short, close-fitting vests, buttoning to the neck, are worn under
 them. White turn-over collars surmount the whole. These suits may
 be made of the cheapest material. Or, if preferred, the boys may be
 arrayed in blue overalls and "jumpers"; this will save much labor and
 inconvenience.

 The girl wears a short, full-skirted gown of pink calico, the waist
 made plain, fitting closely and buttoning up the back. The hair should
 hang in two long braids, the ends tied together with a green ribbon.

SCENE

 The stage is set to represent a schoolroom, with blackboards and
 maps on the walls, and cheap plain benches and desks in an orderly
 arrangement. A small pine table, on which are some books and a
 hand-bell, is in the center. Behind this table is an old-fashioned
 wooden chair for the teacher. Shabby and battered books are piled
 neatly on the various desks.

John (_enters at right, comes to one of the desks, seats himself, and
opens a book_): Here is this miserable sum again. I suppose I've just
_got_ to get it done before the teacher comes; but I can't make head or
tail of the thing. Let me see (_reads_): "If the half of four be three,
what will three-fourths of twenty be?" (_Closes book with a bang._)
Was there ever any stuff like that? Everybody knows that half of four
can't be three, so what's the use of wearing out a fellow's brains,
'specially when he's like me and hasn't any to spare, over a silly
thing like that? O, gee, I believe I'll run away. I hate this school,
school, all the time. If father would only let me stay at home and
plough.

Thomas (_enters at right_): What's that, Jack? Didn't I hear you say
something about ploughing?

John (_rises and leaves desk, both boys come down_): Yes, I was just
wishing I could stay at home and plough instead of coming to school and
worrying my head over fractions. I hate them.

Thomas (_goes to another desk and takes up book_): I don't mind
fractions, but here's this awful geography lesson. Teacher said if I
didn't have it this morning I'd have to stay in all the noon hour and
learn it. What good will it ever do me, I'd like to know, to get the
names of all these islands in my head? I don't mean to be a sailor, and
if I should be I guess I'd learn the names of places fast enough when I
came to them.

John (_puts his hand on_ Thomas' _shoulder_): Say, Tom, let's run away
where they can't make us go to school. We know enough now.

Thomas: So we do; we can write our names, and say the multiplication
table. What more need a fellow know?

John: We can work for the farmers until we get a little money and
then----

Helen (_enters at right and comes down_): O boys, aren't you ashamed?
I overheard your bad plans; how can you talk that way about going to
school instead of being glad that you have the chance to go?

John: _Glad_ of the chance? Ho, ho, that's funny.

Thomas: I should say so, as if anybody was ever _glad_ to go to school.
(_Both boys laugh heartily._ Helen _stands silently gazing at them_.)

John: Why, that beats everything! "Glad to go to school!" I don't
believe there ever was such a thing as a fellow being _glad_ to go to
school.

Helen: I'm sure I'm glad.

Thomas (_snapping his fingers scornfully and turning away_): Yes, but
you're a _girl_. I suppose it's all right for a _girl_ to be glad.

John: I said I didn't believe there was such a thing as a _fellow_
being glad to go to school. You're not a fellow, are you? (_Both boys
laugh and cross over._)

Thomas: If I was a girl I dare say I'd like to go to school. Of course,
that's better than rocking the baby and washing the dishes--but
_fellows_! I tell you they have better ways to pass their time, eh!
Jackie? (_Pokes him in the ribs. Both laugh._)

Helen: Well, it's a lucky thing for the world that all boys aren't like
you, else where would our great men come from if all the boys were as
willing to remain great know-nothings as you two are?

John: O, who wants to be great? Great men have to work, and to sit up
nights and worry about things. I'd rather be a plough-boy than a great
man any time.

Thomas: So would I! Nothing to worry about, just follow the horse and
keep the plough straight.

Helen: Well, there's one thing of which both of you may be pretty sure.

Both: What's that?

Helen: You are in a fair way to get what you want. You will both be
plough-boys until you are too old to hold the plough, and then you can
go to the poorhouse, where the "great men" whom you despise will make
laws to take care of you.

Thomas: That's just it; now you are coming around to John's statement.
We will not have to worry; others will do that, you see.

Helen (_impatiently_): Boys, why don't you brace up and study as you
ought to? What's the use of all this foolish talk? You know you don't
mean a word of it! (_Goes up stage._)

John: We do mean it, too, don't we, Tom?

Thomas: _You're_ the one that talks foolishness. You said some boys
would be "glad of our chance to go to school."

Helen (_coming down quickly_): Yes, and it's true, too. I heard my
father telling last night about a boy living out in the woods beyond
Gentryville who'd give almost anything for your chance. He's never been
to school but a few months in his whole life, and--

Thomas: O, no wonder he thinks he'd like it, he doesn't know anything
about it. I thought it was fun, too, when I was in the primer class.

John: Yes, so did I.

Helen: Well, he's beyond the primer class, I tell you. He knows the old
Webster spelling book all by heart, father says.

John: How'd he learn it if he hasn't been to school? Your stories don't
hitch very well, Miss Preachie.

Helen: He learned it all by himself, lying on the floor nights in front
of the big fireplace. They are too poor to have even a grease light.

Thomas: Must think a lot of that old spelling book. (_Both laugh._)

Helen: Of course he thinks a lot of it. He thinks a lot of _any_ book.
Father heard a man telling down at the store that this boy cut four
cords of wood for some one, just to get a _piece_ of a book.

John: O, wanted to read the Arabian Nights, probably.

Helen: But it wasn't the Arabian Nights that he bought; it was the Life
of Washington.

Thomas: What's the use of _his_ reading the Life of Washington? He's
nothing but poor, white trash--too poor, you say, even to have a
grease light. He'll never be anybody.

Helen: Don't you be too sure of that. I tell you that boy will be a
great man. Some day you'll hear of him yet.

John: Just because he was fool enough to cut four cords of wood for a
_piece_ of a book?

Thomas: Well, I'd have had the whole book or nothing.

John: So would I (_sneering_). Why he was a fool. O, yes, we'll hear of
him, of course. We'll read about him in the back part of the spelling
book where the blank leaves are. But what's his name, do you know?

Helen: Yes, father told me. His name is Abraham Lincoln: remember it,
boys, for I am quite sure you will hear it again some day.

Thomas: Of course we'll remember it; couldn't forget it if we tried. A
boy that was as big a greeny as that.

John: I tell you, Helen, the next time that you have to write one of
those things which you like so well--a composition--you can write it
about "The Two Cuts, or The Wood That Was Cut for a Cut Book." My! but
that will be fine. (_Both laugh boisterously._)

Helen: Well, you may laugh, boys, but you'll find there'll be plenty of
people to write about him, and it may be it will be done while you are
yet alive to read the books, and more than that--

(_Shouts heard from behind scenes._)

John (_running off at right_): Come on, Tom, I hear the boys forming
for "There, old cat"; we'll be too late.

Thomas: But, how about your sum and my geography lesson? The teacher'll
do something dreadful to us.

John (_calling back over his shoulder_): Bother on them, we'll have
time to study after school calls: if we don't, who cares? Let Abraham
Lincoln do the studying while we are having fun. Come on, come on.
(_Exit at right._)

Helen: Don't go, Tom; stay and have a perfect lesson for once.

Thomas: O, I've heard preaching enough for one morning. (_Exit at
right, running._)

Helen: That's the way it always ends. If I try to have them mend their
ways, they just make fun of me for "preaching." (_Goes to a desk
and takes up book, opens it and sits at desk._) I'm only a girl, of
course, but I am going to imitate poor Abe by trying to get a little
knowledge into my head. But what foolish boys _they_ are, and some day
when Abraham Lincoln is a great man and everyone is talking about the
wonderful things he is doing, John and Tom will be standing around
whittling sticks and growling because they couldn't be as "lucky as
Abraham Lincoln." Well, if _I_ am anywhere around, I'll tell them of
the things they said this morning. I know I shall never forget them.
(_Becomes intent on book._)

Curtain


CAPTAIN LINCOLN

Clara J. Denton

A DIALOGUE FOR FIVE BOYS

CHARACTERS

  Captain Lincoln
  Lieutenant Dash
  Private Dunn
  Sergeant Free
  Gerolomo, _the Indian_

COSTUMES

 Soldiers: For the four soldiers, suitable military outfits.

 Indian: If a wig of long black hair is obtainable, part the hair and
 make into two heavy braids, twisting yellow or red flannel through the
 braids which hang down close to the face on either side. If a wig
 is impossible, decorate a strip of pasteboard with chicken feathers
 and fasten it around the head. Wear a brightly colored blanket thrown
 over a pair of overalls and dark cotton shirt. Wear moccasins. Carry
 old-fashioned gun.

 The character of Lincoln must be taken by boy much taller than the
 others.

SCENE

 Camp; tent in foreground with flap up, showing rude bed, gun,
 knapsack, etc.

Lieutenant Dash and Sergeant Free are discovered lying at full length
not far from tent.

Lieutenant (_rising_): Well, I must say, I'm mighty tired lying 'round
here waiting for that boat to come.

Sergeant (_yawns and rolls over_): Guess we'll never get where the
Indians are if we wait for that boat. Wish we could all swim across the
river. Captain Lincoln's getting mighty tired of waiting, too.

Lieutenant: No wonder! Such an unruly lot as he has to hold in check
here.

Sergeant: Yes, think of his being blamed for that rowdy crowd breaking
into the storehouse and drinking up all the whiskey. He didn't know a
thing about it until it was all over.

Lieutenant (_walking up and down_): Yes, but you see that's the way
things go; he's at the head of the company and he just has to stand
the blame for all their meannesses. I should think they'd be a little
careful of their doings for they all like him, or seem to, anyway.

Sergeant: You see, they just didn't think, that's the trouble with them.

Lieutenant: Perhaps they'll be more careful after this, that is if they
like him as well as they pretend to.

Sergeant (_jumping up_): Oh, that's all real; they like him, you can
depend on that. Didn't you ever hear how he came to be captain?

Lieutenant: No, I have often wondered about it, for he's young for that
position. Tell me all about it if you can. (_Seats himself on ground
near door of tent._)

Sergeant: Well, it was this way; it's not a very long story, but I
might as well sit down. (_Sits on other side of door._) You see, there
were two fellows put up: Kirkpatrick and Lincoln. The vote was taken
in a field, by directing the fellows at the command "march," to gather
around the one they wanted for captain. The other fellow was a good
deal older than Lincoln and I s'pose most folks would say he was better
fitted to be captain, but's sure's you live a good big majority went
over to Lincoln's side. And I never saw a fellow so tickled as Lincoln
was! (_Slapping his knee with his right hand._)

Lieutenant: Well, now, they ought to stand by him and not cut up any
more rowdy tricks, to have him disgraced by wearing a wooden sword.
Better talk to them just as soon as you get a chance.

Sergeant: I will, sir, that I will. (_Enter_ Private Dunn _at left. He
comes down and salutes._)

Private: You just ought to have been up the road with the boys a couple
of hours ago. I tell you, we had heaps of fun. Talk about Indians!

  Lieutenant (_jumping up_)   }   Indians!
  Sergeant (_rushing to him_) }

Private (_crossing over_): Indians! (_Waving his hands for them to
remain calm._) No, just one poor lonesome, hungry Indian--an old one at
that.

  Lieutenant }   Did they kill him?
  Sergeant   }

Private: I guess not! the Captain was there.

Lieutenant: Well, what _did_ they do to make any fun?

Private: Well, they all ran at him with their guns, yelling "Redskin!
Scalp him! Kill him! He's what we're after." Then the frightened old
fellow drew from his belt a letter and whined out "Me good Injun, me no
harm paleface. See--paper; from big white war chief." Someone grabbed
the letter and read it aloud. It was from General Cass and said that
the bearer Gerolomo was a friendly Indian and that he must be given
food and shelter.

Lieutenant: Forged letter, no doubt.

Sergeant: I bet he was a spy.

Private: That's just what the others said. They all got around him and
yelled "Shoot him! Kill him!" till I didn't think the poor beggar's
life was worth two bits. He thought so, too, I guess, for he was so
scared that he was almost white. They were all around him so that he
couldn't run--tell you it looked tough. (_Draws long breath._)

Lieutenant: But go on; you said they didn't kill the worthless cur?

Private: "Worthless cur!" Well, I guess not! the Captain heard the men
and dashing in among them, he laid his hand on the Indian's shoulder,
and he just roared: "The first man that touches him dies!" O, boys,
you'd orter been there. (_Goes up._)

Sergeant: Come back and tell the rest; what happened then?

Private (_comes down_): Someone sung out, "O, you're a coward, afraid
of an old Indian. Let _us_ have him!" Whew! You'd orter seen him
_then_. I never see the Captain so mad. "Who says I'm a coward?" he
roared, rolling up his sleeves.

Lieutenant: Well, did they fight him? (_Laughs._)

Private: Guess not--didn't want to tackle that job. So the Captain
after a minute or two took the old Indian by the arm and led him off to
feed.

Sergeant: That was just like the Captain, but it may be the old fellow
is a spy after all.

Lieutenant: Well, I guess that's the only Indian that we are likely to
see and it's too bad of the Captain to spoil the boys' fun. O, here
comes the noble red man now. (Gerolomo _enters at right, comes down
slowly and timidly._)

Lieutenant: Hullo, there, you redskin! What's your name? (_Goes to
him._)

Indian: Gerolomo. Me heap good Injun; heap like paleface, bring
paleface heap meat. (_Shows gun and continues to move on slowly across
stage._)

Lieutenant: Stand still, there, and tell us where the rest of your
people are; we'd like pretty well to kill a few hundred.

Indian (_stands_): Big paleface tell Gerolomo go bring venison, go
bring duck.

Lieutenant: Well, why don't you do it, then? Better mind him, I tell
you, or he'll have you shot.

Indian (_shaking head decidedly_): No, no, big paleface heap good, heap
brave; no harm poor Injun.

Sergeant (_going to_ Indian): You're off now, I'll bet, to tell your
people just where to find us and just how many palefaces there are here.

Indian (_repeats former business_): No, no, Gerolomo go tell big
paleface got venison, got duck, got squirrel.

Private (_going to him and shaking his fist at him_): None o' your
lying now. If you go to the Captain with that yarn he'll make short
work o' you. The Captain hates a liar, he does.

Indian (_whining_): Me no lie, me good Injun. Me go tell big paleface
me bring venison, me bring duck, me bring squirrel.

Lieutenant (_to the others_): Listen to that, will you? He'll bring
venison, he'll bring duck, he'll bring squirrel. My! but we'll be
living high. (All _laugh._)

Sergeant: We'd like to _see_ your venison, your duck, and your squirrel.

Indian (_briskly_): All right, me bring 'em in, me bring heap meat.
(_Turns about and moves toward right exit._)

Lieutenant: Better go with him, Dunn, because if he is lying to us,
which he probably is, he'll not come back.

Private: All right, come on you "heap good Injun." We'll see what
you've got out there. (_Exeunt._)

Sergeant (_saluting_): Hadn't I better go, too, Lieutenant? He may get
away from Dunn.

Lieutenant: No, I think Dunn can manage him. But hasn't he learned the
trick of telling a good lie?

Sergeant: I should think so. Venison, duck and squirrel, and he's only
been in the woods a few hours.

Lieutenant: Well, of course he may be telling the truth, because the
woods are full of game, and I daresay the old fellow is a good shot.

(_Enter_ Private Dunn, _carrying a squirrel in one hand, a duck in
the other, followed by_ Gerolomo _dragging a dead deer. They stop at
center._ Lieutenant Dash _and_ Sergeant Free _run to them._)

Lieutenant: Well, really, you old redskin you have told the truth for
once in your life.

Indian (_lifting his hands and eyes_): Me shoot for big paleface. Great
Spirit tell Gerolomo where venison, where duck, where squirrel for
big paleface. Great Spirit always take care of big paleface. (Captain
Lincoln _enters at left and comes down slowly, unseen by_ Gerolomo.
_The others salute._) Big paleface take care poor old Gerolomo.

Captain Lincoln (_goes to_ Indian _and lays hand on his shoulder_): You
have obeyed my orders and kept your promise, the whitest soldier among
us all could have done no better.

_Tableau_

Curtain


WITH FIFE AND DRUM

Clara J. Denton

A PLAY IN TWO ACTS FOR FOUR GIRLS AND THREE BOYS

CHARACTERS

  Mrs. Mortimer, _mother of the family_
  Sally Caroline, _the daughter_
  Albert, _the son_
  Mr. Mortimer, _father_ (_this character has no lines_)
  Auntie Temp, _a negro slave_
  George Washington Augustus, _her son_
  Clementina Diana, _her daughter_

SCENE

 Neat home interior. Old-fashioned hair-cloth sofa at right of stage.
 Hair-cloth rocking-chair at left. Marble-topped table at center. Easel
 with large picture of Lincoln near center. Cane seat rocking-chair at
 left-front, also another at right-front. Crocheted tidies on sofa and
 all rocking-chairs, and any other minor accessories that will give to
 the room an old-fashioned appearance.

COSTUMES

 Mrs. Mortimer and Sally Caroline: For these two characters borrow
 dresses made during the '60's. If this is impossible, make gowns of
 some cheap yet good-looking material to represent such. Let the skirt
 be very full and worn over hoops; the waist plain and tight-fitting
 with wide flowing sleeves with white muslin undersleeves. Wear a
 broad, flat, embroidered collar. Mrs. Mortimer wears her hair parted
 in the middle, two curls on either side of her face, held in place
 by side-combs; the remainder fastened in a knot at the back. Sally
 Caroline's hair hangs in curls. Let these costumes be planned and
 overlooked by a skillful matron who is at least sixty years of age.

 Albert: In first act he wears an ordinary suit for young man; in
 second act butternut-color suit, ragged and soiled.

 Auntie Temp: Bright-colored print gown, wide gingham apron, bright
 bandanna kerchief tied on head. This character should be represented
 by a stout person, if possible.

 George Washington Augustus: Overalls and "jumper" of blue denim.

 Clementina Diana: Cotton gown. The two last named must wear negro wigs
 or wigs of black wool. The characters making-up for negroes should
 cover the faces with some sort of toilet cream before applying the
 burnt cork or "black-face" preparation.

 Mr. Mortimer: United States military uniform faded and ragged.


ACT I

Auntie Temp (_before the curtain rises_): Gawge Washington Augustus. O,
Gawge Washington Augustus, Gawge Washington Augustus, I say. (_Curtain
rises._ Auntie Temp _is seen leaving stage at right._)

George (_enters at left_): I was jes' suah I yerd mammy callin' me in
heah. Wondah whar she went? Mighty ha'd times dese is foh de niggahs,
dat's suah. What wid ole marsa goin' off wid de Linkum sojas an' young
marsa stampin' 'round an' sayin' he foh suah cehtain am agoin' wid de
Fed'rates I mos' done wish I hain't nevah been bo'n. I is foh suah.

(_Singing behind scenes, a strain of any darkey melody that may be
convenient, though the following, is especially appropriate._ George
_pauses to listen._)

George (_continues after the singing dies out, looking toward right_):
Dere comes dat worfless Clementina Diana, ef she is my sistah. 'Peahs
lak any niggah dat can sing now-a-days ain't got no heart, jes' all
gizzahd lak a chicken. (Clementina _enters at right, still singing._)
Shet up dere, Clementina Diana, how kin you go a-singin' 'round right
in de midst o' dis yere wah when de folkses is a-shootin' each udder
down, an' a--an' a----

Clementina: O, pshaw! Gawge Washington Augustus, I didn't make de wah,
'sides I hain't seen none o' it, so I might's well be gay and happy
while I kin. Mammy's been a-squawkin' foh ye dis yere long while.

George: Where's she gone ter?

Clementina: O! _I_ dunno. (_This in a slipshod way, shrugging her
shoulders. Continues singing and exits at left._)

NEGRO SONG

 This is a funny old song that the darkeys used to delight to sing in
 the days when they believed "Father Abraham" was coming to free them.

[Music]

  1. Say, darkeys, hab you seen de massa,
     Wid de muffstas on his face,
     Go 'long de road some time dis mornin',
     Like he gwine to leav de place?
     He seen a smoke 'way up de ribber,
     Whar de Linkum gun-boats lay;
     He took his hat, an' lef berry sudden,
     An' I spec he's run away!

  2. He six foot one way, two foot tudder,
     An' he weigh tree hundred pound;
     His coat so big he couldn't pay de tailor,
     An' it won't go half way 'round.
     He drill so much dey call him Cap'an,
     An' he get so drefful tann'd,
     I spec he try an' fool dem Yankees
     For to tink he's contraband.

  3. De oberseer he make us trouble,
     An' he dribe us 'round a spell;
     We lock him up in de smoke-house cellar,
     Wid de key trown in de well.
     De whip is lost, de han'cuff broken,
     But de massa'll hab his pay;
     He's ole enough, big enough, ought to known bet-ter
     Dan to went an' run away.

  Chorus:

    De massa run, ha! ha! De darkeys stay, ho! ho!
    It mus' be now de kingdom coming,
    An' de year ob Jubilo!

George: Ef that hain't de most disrisponsible niggah gal dat eber
breaved de bref o' life! If I's lak she am I'd run off tomowow and jine
dem Linkum sojas, but I jes' cain't do it. I jes' keep a-wonderin'
what dey all will do at home widout me. Well, I reckon I'll go hunt up
mammy. (_Exits at right._)

Sally (_enters at left carrying open letter_): Poor Cousin Bessie
Helen, she has left her beautiful Alabama home with all its grand
furniture and has run away with her brothers and sisters to grandpa's
home here in Tennessee. What a foolish thing for her to do. (_Reads
from letter_): "When they told me the Yankee soldiers were coming I
couldn't think of anything but to get away safely with the children
before the soldiers came in and butchered us all." How _foolish_ she
was! I am sure the officers would have seen that she came to no harm.
(_Goes to Lincoln's portrait and places her hand upon it._) It is plain
that she has never looked upon _your_ noble face. If she had she would
have felt, as I do, that at least some small measure of your beautiful
spirit must be scattered abroad through your army to keep the men from
harming helpless widows and children. But, poor Bessie! she has only
heard dreadful stories about you, and so, with her mother in her grave,
and her father fighting against the Yankees she could see no safety
except in flight. I must write to her and tell her something of our
beloved Lincoln and the army which he controls. (Albert _enters at
left._) O, Albert, I am so glad you have come in just now. I have here
a letter from Cousin Bessie; she is at grandfather's here in Tennessee.

Albert: In Tennessee?

Sally: Yes, read her letter; she was so afraid of the Yankee soldiers.

Albert: And well she might be, the hounds!

Sally: Hush! (_placing right-hand forefinger to lips_): Albert, do you
forget that our father is one of them?

Albert (_walking up and down excitedly_): Indeed, I _don't_ forget! I
think of it every hour, and it is _that_ which makes me so furious. How
can he accept those low-down Northerners as his associates?

Sally: Brother, be still! Look at that face! (_Points to Lincoln's
portrait._) _He_ is a Northerner, altho' he was born in Kentucky, and
for his sake I love them all.

Albert: Then you must hate all your friends and relatives that are
fighting against him.

Sally: No, no, dear brother, I do not. Don't you remember how the grand
Lincoln closed his inaugural address? "We are not enemies, but friends.
We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not
break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching
from every battlefield and patriot grave, to every living heart and
hearthstone,----"

Albert (_interrupting_): There, stop, I will not listen to any more of
his stuff.

Sally (_continuing rapidly_): "All over this broad land, will yet swell
the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by
the better angels of our nature." Are those not wonderful words?

Albert: Stuff and sentimentalism, that's what they are!

Sally: O, Albert, how can you talk so? Think of it! Today is his
birthday; today you should delight to honor him.

Albert: His birthday! Who cares?

Sally: Everyone should give thanks for this day.

Albert (_laughing_): What nonsense you talk, Sally Caroline.

Sally: Well, you will see. The time will come when the Country will
celebrate his birthday just as they now do Washington's.

Albert: O, come now, that's too much. It's bad enough to know that we
are to have another four years of his tyranny, without hearing you sing
his praises.

Sally: But, you'll _have_ to hear it; the war will soon be over, and he
will be proclaimed as the Savior of his Country.

Albert: O, stop! The war is not anywhere near over: it is but begun.
I'll not listen to this talk any longer. I resent it. I'll not hear any
more of Abraham Lincoln. (_Goes up stage in great excitement._)

Sally (_excitedly_): Why, Albert! How can you talk so? Why you sound
just like a rebel.

Albert (_turns and coming to center stands_): And that is just what I
am, a rebel! A rebel against the tyranny of Abraham Lincoln.

(Sally _drops into rocking-chair at left-front; buries her face in her
handkerchief and sobs violently._)

Albert (_comes down_): There, there, little sister! don't take on so;
surely you have known my sentiments before this.

Sally (_rising_): O, but you never talked quite so wickedly before.
How could you say things like that with his noble, benign face looking
straight at you?

Albert (_scornfully_): Noble, benign face, indeed! I'll tear it into
ribbons. I have put up with this thing long enough. (_He goes toward
picture._ Sally _runs quickly, intercepts him, and stands in front of
picture, placing her arms protectingly across it._)

Albert: Stand aside!

Sally: Never!

Albert (_loudly_): Stand aside, I say!

Sally: Never!

Mrs. Mortimer (_enters at right_): Children, what in the world are you
doing? Albert, was that you speaking like that to your sister? I could
hardly believe my ears. (Albert _goes to sofa and buries his face in
his hands._) What in the world are you doing, Sally Caroline? Come and
sit down.

Sally: No, mother, not until Albert promises me that he will not molest
this picture.

Mrs. Mortimer: Molest that picture! Why should he? Your father paid
ten good dollars of United States money for that picture and I reckon
Albert doesn't want to waste money like that. Come here, Albert. (_She
sits in rocking-chair at right-front._) Do come away from that picture,
Sally Caroline; how ridiculous you look spread out there. Come away, I
say!

Sally: No, mother; not until Albert promises me that he will not harm
this picture.

Mrs. Mortimer: Of course he will not harm it. I can answer for that.
Harm a picture which his father loves so well? I cannot imagine my son
doing a deed like that. Albert, come to me.

Albert (_rising_): Mother, I see that I have no place here. I will get
across the line some way this very day, and join the Confederate Army.
(Sally _runs to him._)

Mrs. Mortimer (_rises_): What! My son fight against the old flag?

Sally: Albert, Albert; O, you cannot mean it!

Albert: Mother, you are a Southern woman; you ought to bid me godspeed.

Mrs. Mortimer: Yes, I am a Southern woman, but I am the descendant of
men who helped to bind these States together, and no child of mine
shall, with my consent, help to sever them. You shall _not_ go, Albert.

Albert: Mother, I must! I shall--go. (_Exit at right, running._ Sally
_and_ Mrs. Mortimer _throw their arms about each other and sink upon
the sofa._)

Curtain

Here may be introduced a short drill of the Blue and the Gray if
desirable. It would certainly have a pleasing effect and would tend to
add variety and spice to the entertainment.


ACT II

Fife and drum heard playing YANKEE DOODLE, behind scenes. Auntie Temp
discovered dusting the furniture.

Auntie Temp: Never seen nuthin' lak dem chilluns. Dat dere Clementina
Diana she's jes' nuthin' but a no-'count shif'less niggah eber sence
dem Linkum sojas come 'round heah. She found dat ole fife somewha's
'round an' she jes' blow on it all day long (_puffing in her
excitement_); cain't get nuthin' else out'n her, an' Gawge Washington
Augustus! (_laughing_) golly, he's jes' 's bad, he des poun' de old
drum. O, deah, mighty queah times when niggahs jes' tinks dey's got
nuthin' to do but stan' 'round and make jig music.

Mrs. Mortimer (_enters at right_): Aunt Temp, those children of yours
can make pretty good music. I think we'll have to send them to that new
Fisk University, just founded. (_Sits in rocking-chair at right-front._)

Auntie Temp: Lan' sakes alive, Miss' Em'line! what de wo'ld you-all do
dat foh? Suah dem chilluns ain't done nuthin' foh to shet dem up in de
what ye call it, tentiarity.

Mrs. Mortimer: O, Aunt Temp, I didn't say the _Penitentiary_. I said
the _University_; that's where they educate the darkies, you know, and
when they are natural musicians like your children, they teach them all
the branches of music.

Auntie Temp: What! eddicate de niggahs! I hain't nevah seen no good
come o' dat. I'll eddicate that Gawge Washington Augustus to saw wood,
and Clementina Diana has jes' nachually _got_ to lea'n to make a
hoe-cake 's good 's her mammy kin. I cain't see no use o' nuthin' else.
Lan' sakes, I reckon what's good enough for dere ole niggah mammy
's good enough for dem two black niggahs. (_Placing arms akimbo and
holding head up proudly._)

Mrs. Mortimer: But everything's changed now, you know, Aunt Temp: there
aren't any slaves any more, and so we must teach you colored people to
take care of yourselves.

Auntie Temp: Yes, I know, I yerd lots o' dat kin' o' talk jes' dese
yere days, but I reckon I jes' stays right heah wif you-alls twell I
dies.

Clementina (_running in from right_): O, mammy, did you-all heah de
music?

Auntie Temp: Go 'long ye good-foh-nuthin' shif'less niggah; doan ye see
de mist'ess?

Clementina (_turns and ducks her head and shoulders: a rude imitation
of a curtsy_): O, 'scuse me Miss' Em'line. I was jes' plum' crazy ovah
dat fife. Golly, but dat's fine!

Mrs. Mortimer: You can play as well as a man, Clementina: come here.
(Mrs. Mortimer _takes_ Clementina's _hand and leads her to Lincoln's
picture._) Do you know who this is?

Clementina (_looking very serious_): Suah I duz, Miss' Em'line; dis
heah (_lays her hand on picture_) is de good Massa Linkum what said
to all de people eve'ywha's, up in the Norf 'n' down in de Souf, dat
dere shouldn't nevah no moah be any slaves anywha's. (_Joyfully and
enthusiastically_): Golly, but I's glad he done libed.

Mrs. Mortimer (_bowing head sorrowfully and speaking slowly and
softly_): Yes, indeed, we are all glad of that: and now you may go,
Clementine.

Clementina (_comes down while_ Mrs. Mortimer _remains looking at
picture._ Clementina, _when near right exit, turns and runs back to_
Mrs. Mortimer): O, I say, Miss' Em'line, de good Marsa Linkum done
gone dead now, an' won't dey take us all back foh slaves ag'in?

Mrs. Mortimer (_coming down_): No, you poor child, don't be afraid,
slavery is done with forever and forever. No one can ever undo the work
of Abraham Lincoln.

Clementina: Golly! I's glad o' dat. Bress de Lawd foh Abraham Linkum.
(_Dances a few steps and then exits at right, running._)

Auntie Temp: She hain't got no sense Miss' Em'line, so you-all mus'
jes' nachually fohgive her foh jes' fohgettin' 'bout what all dis yere
wah cost you-all. (_Bowing head and speaking softly and sadly._) But
I knows, I knows, Miss' Em'line, an' I's powe'ful sorry foh you-all.
(_Exit at right, head still bowed._)

Mrs. Mortimer (_sits in rocking-chair at right-front_): Yes, the cost
_has_ been great (_speaking slowly and weighing each word carefully_),
O, how great! and our noble leader who said he now longed only to bind
up the Nation's wounds has been taken from us. How will it be now, I
wonder? They tell me the war is over. Lee has surrendered--but where, O
where (_rises and walks up and down_) are my poor husband and our boy?
It has been long since I have had a letter from either. Perhaps they
have both died fighting for the cause in which each believed. Poor,
misguided Albert! how could he ever have gone against the flag of his
forefathers? (_Exit at left._)

George (_enters at right_): Dat air Clementina Diana's jes' too much
for my institution. She dinks 'case Miss' Em'line told her she done
play de fife's good as a man dat she's de bigges' pickanninny on
dis yere plantation. But I'll show her she cain't come none o' her
friskom-fa'i'cation ovah Gawge Washington Augustus. Dis yere niggah
ain't no slave no moah, an' he's gwine show dat li'l' niggah gal
what's what. (_Fife behind scenes._) Dah she's at it ag'in. (_Enter_
Clementina _at right, running and waving fife in air and shouting_,
Hurrah!) What's de matta, you crazy niggah gal? Ye des done gone out
o' yore senses (_runs to her and shakes her_).

Clementina: Git yore dwum, Gawge Washington 'Gustus, and come on wif
me: de marsa's a-comin'!

George: O, go 'long wif yore crazy talk, de massa's done gone de'd
befoh dis yere. Ye s'pose he lib an' not sen' a perscripshun to de
mist'ess befoh dis yere? No, dem mis'able reb bullets get him foh dis
yere. I knows. (_Pointing finger at her_): Go 'long wid ye now! (_Goes
up stage._)

Clementina: Now, doan ye be so sma't, Gawge Washington 'Gustus; he's
comin' foh suah--I seed 'im.

George (_comes down quickly_): Seed 'im? Ya mis'able good-foh-nuthin'
lyin' niggah gal, how could ye seed 'im?

Clementina (_slowly and solemnly_): I seed a tramp comin' 'way obah de
fields. I kin'a sca'd an' 'spishus. I tak Miss' Em'line's spy-glass
and I looked and I seed 'twas marsa. (_Dances a few steps, singing_,
"Marsa's come." _They both run out at right. Fife and drum is heard,
playing_ YANKEE DOODLE _behind scenes._)

Mrs. Mortimer (_with_ Sally, _run in at left_): I was sure I heard
Clem's voice singing, "Marsa come," but there's no one here. O, why did
she do it? (_Drops into rocking-chair at left-front._ Sally _runs to
her._) It was wicked of her to do a thing like that. And that dreadful
tune! Sally Caroline, I think you'll have to go out and make them keep
still. (_Music grows fainter._)

Sally: Never mind, mother dear, they are going away now. They'll soon
be out of hearing. I'll see what they are about. (_Exits at right._)

Mrs. Mortimer: I never, never, want to hear that tune again. I shall
always associate it with this bitter disappointment. O, I was so sure
my poor husband had come. I wonder what made the child think of singing
that? But, then, she is only a child; she cannot understand (_buries
her face in handkerchief and sobs_).

Auntie Temp (_enters at left and goes to side of_ Mrs. Mortimer): O,
now, Miss' Em'line! Doan, honey, doan do dat, pore soul. Yore ole mammy
knows jes' how't feels--come, now, obah heah on de sofi, an' hab a good
rest. (_Puts arms about her and leads her to sofa, putting pillow under
her head, etc., while talking to her._) Dere, dere, honey, doan ye feel
bad any moah. We-all tak de bes' caah of ye an' make ye des's happy
as we kin. Des tink, Miss' Em'line, dere's Miss Sally Car'line, de
lubliest angel anybuddy eber seed; she done tak des de bes' caah of ye,
so des chirk up, chirk up, Miss' Em'line. Come, now, honey, tu'n obah
an' go a-sleep, yore ole mammy covah ye up.

Mrs. Mortimer: And, Auntie Temp, don't ever let those children play
Yankee Doodle around the house again.

Auntie Temp: Dat I won't, honey, I'll go this minnit an' see 'bout it.
(_Comes down stage._ Sally _enters at right. They meet at right-front._)

Sally (_in excited undertone_): Auntie Temp, what do you think?
(_Catches her by the arm and dances and jumps around in glee._) Father
is coming across the field from the west! Your children have gone to
meet him. And as I was looking around, I saw another figure coming
slowly from the south. I took the glass, which was lying on the porch,
and it is Albert!

Auntie Temp (_excitedly_): Laws honey, ye doan mean it?

Sally: Hush! I am afraid the excitement will be too much for mother. O,
what shall we do? They may come rushing in any minute. (_Fife and drum
heard._ Mrs. Mortimer _groans._)

Auntie Temp: See to yore pore ma, Miss Sally Car'line, I got ter make
dem niggahs shet up. (_Exit at right. Music ceases in a moment._)

Mrs. Mortimer (_sitting up_): O, good Auntie Temp! What a comfort she
is to me; she promised to make those children stop that tune and she
has done it. (_Sighs._)

Sally (_kneeling beside her_): But, mother dear, wouldn't you like to
hear the fife and drum playing Yankee Doodle if it was played for joy?

Mrs. Mortimer (_jumping up_): For joy? What can you mean, Sally
Caroline?

Sally (_rising and throwing arms about_ Mrs. Mortimer): Don't get
excited. It means, dearest mother, that you are to be happy again.

Mrs. Mortimer: O, Sally Caroline, don't deceive me! Do you mean----

Sally (_interrupting_): Yes, yes, it means that they (_leads her
slowly toward right exit_) are both coming across the fields: one
from the west and one from the south, and, even now, they may be in
the door-yard. (Mrs. Mortimer _hurries._) There, there, dear, do not
overtax your strength. Remember, too, they are much changed, and you
mustn't give 'way when you meet them. (_Exeunt at right._)

Clementina (_enters at right, waving fife, followed by_ George,
_carrying drum_): Golly, wa'n't that fine? Seems lak I cu'd jes' dance
mah feet off.

George: Well, ye jes' keep still, ye good-foh-nuthin' niggah gal. Nebah
seed sich a crazy gal nowahs, Dere, dey's comin' now, ye better go hide.

(Clementina _runs up and stands behind Lincoln's portrait so that
only her face is visible._ Mrs. Mortimer, Mr. Mortimer _and_ Albert
_enter at right._ Mrs. Mortimer _is between the two and their arms
are linked._ Sally _follows closely behind, and_ Auntie Temp, _who is
behind the others, goes to_ George _and stands beside him._)

Mrs. Mortimer: It seems too good to be true that I have _both_ my dear
ones at home again.

Albert (_breaks away from his mother and runs to Lincoln's portrait,
laying his hand upon it_): And, mother, I am cured of my folly. I have
seen him, and I am glad the old flag was victorious.

All (_excitedly_): Have _seen_ him?

Sally: O, tell us about him!

Albert (_coming down_): [J]It was at Richmond. I had been taken
prisoner with two other young fellows. We were shut up in an old store.
The President came there with some of his friends and just a few of his
sailors. He passed the store and saw us staring from the window. O, the
look that came over his face I can never describe, as he called out:
"Break in that door and let those boys go home to their mothers." In a
second we were free.

[J] This incident is purely fictitious and is given only as what might
have happened, being quite in keeping with Lincoln's character.

Auntie Temp: De Lawd bress him!

Albert: And, mother, when I stood face to face with him I saw that not
half had been told me of his goodness and his greatness. And when I
heard of his death a day or two ago, as I was begging my way across the
country, to get home, I wept like a child. I knew then, as others will
know later, that this was the end of life for the greatest American
this country ever had.

Auntie Temp: De Lawd save us! I's mighty scar'd o' what 'comes of us
pore niggahs now.

Sally (_going to_ Auntie Temp _and putting hand on her shoulder_):
You have nothing to fear from this time forth, Auntie Temp. Although
Abraham Lincoln is dead, his _spirit_ will live _forever_ in the land.

Albert (_comes to front-center_): Yes, and he has taught the American
Nation, in his own immortal words, "that government of the people, by
the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."

Curtain


SUGGESTIVE PROGRAM

RECOMMENDED BY THE NEW YORK DEPARTMENT OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION

  1. Salute to the Flag      SCHOOL

 At a signal from the principal the pupils in ordered ranks, hands to
 the side, face the flag. At another signal every pupil gives the flag
 the military salute as follows: The right hand lifted, palm downward,
 the forefinger touching the forehead above the eye. Standing thus all
 repeat slowly: "I pledge allegiance to my flag and the republic for
 which it stands, one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice
 for all." At the words "to my flag," the right hand is extended
 gracefully, palm upward towards the flag, and remains in this gesture
 till the end of the affirmation, whereupon all hands immediately drop
 to the side. Where a silent salute is given, the flag is borne between
 the standing lines or in front of a single line, and the hands remain
 at salute until the flag-bearer reaches the center of the room, when,
 at a given signal, every hand is dropped.

  2. Song--red, white and blue      SCHOOL

  3. Lincoln Day: Its observance a privilege for
  ourselves and a duty to the young people of
  the country      READING

  4. Declamation--Selected      PUPIL

  5. Song--star-spangled banner      PUPIL OR SCHOOL

  6. Quotations from the sayings of Abraham
  Lincoln and his eulogists      BY PUPILS
  rising in their places and repeating.

  7. Lincoln's Gettysburg Address      PUPIL

  8. Essay on Lincoln      PUPIL

  9. Song       SCHOOL

  10. Tableaux or Grouping representing some
  historical event in the life of Lincoln      GROUP

  11. Lincoln as a Model for the Youth of the
  Nation       READING

  12. Song--battle hymn of the republic      SCHOOL

  13. Brief Addresses by      VISITING VETERANS
  and other invited guests.

  14. Song--america      SCHOOL AND VISITORS



DRILLS, PANTOMIMES, TABLEAUX


OLD GLORY

Marie Irish

A PRIMARY FLAG DRILL FOR FIVE LITTLE GIRLS AND FIVE LITTLE BOYS

 Costumes: Each child carries a flag of fairly good size and wears a
 soldier cap. The caps are made of red, white and blue tissue paper and
 should be provided with an elastic cord that passes under the chin to
 hold them in place. Children also wear on each shoulder an epaulet,
 made of strips of cambric, an inch wide, one white, one red and one
 blue, sewed up in a cluster.

Music: A patriotic march.

Children enter in two files, the boys coming on at the right corner
of front of stage and the girls at the left corner of front. The boys
march up the right side, across back and down the left side of stage,
while the girls at the same time pass up the left side, across back
and down the right side of stage. On reaching the corners of front the
two lines pass diagonally to center of back, first boy and first girl
form a couple, each two on reaching center of back do the same, and the
couples march down the center of stage to the front. During the opening
march the flag is held in right hand, resting against right side, but
on forming couples each couple raises flags and holds them high, staffs
crossed. At the front the boys turn to right, girls to left, pass to
corners of front, up sides and on reaching the back they form two lines
across back of stage, girls on front line with boys back of them. Mark
time, then march--five abreast--down to near-front of stage, where the
lines halt, and as they do so they stand far enough apart to allow a
person to pass between them. During this march the flags have been held
again at right side, but now each one holds flag high. The boy nearest
left of stage now leads the boys along the line of girls, going in
front of the first one, back of the second, in front of the third, back
of the fourth, etc. Boys return to places and halt, then girl nearest
the right of stage leads the line of girls along the line of boys,
going behind the first boy, in front of second, back of third, etc.
The girls return to places and halt, then all hold flags with staff
standing upright and resting on left shoulder. All speak:

  In times of peace dear Old Glory doth wave
  O'er homes and schools in this land of the brave;

  (_Hold flags out in front of bodies, staffs perpendicular._)

  In times of trouble it stands for the Right,
  And says that Justice is greater than might;

  (_Raise flags and wave them above heads._)

  In times of battle, its colors so bright
  Lead on to Victory, though fierce be the fight.

With flags held at right sides the girls now pass up the right side of
stage while boys pass up the left side. At center of back form couples,
raise flags and cross staffs, march in couples down center of stage to
front. At front the first couple halts, second couple goes to right of
first and halts in line, third couple to left of first, fourth couple
to right of second, fifth to left of third. If stage is large enough
let them stand in straight line across front, otherwise they can stand
in curved line. The children now speak, one at a time. Each one holds
the flag in position at right side until he or she speaks.

First Child (holding flag extended, arm's length at right side):

  One little flag says children must be true;

Second Child (holding staff of flag horizontal along left shoulder,
flag hanging down lengthwise at left side; first child now holds flag
in same way):

  Two flags say that we must be honest, too.

Third Child (holding staff of flag diagonally across chest, flag on
left shoulder; first and second children hold flags the same):

  Three flags say boys and girls must upright live;

Fourth Child (staff of flag perpendicular and resting on left shoulder;
first three hold flags the same):

  Four flags say, "Be unselfish when you give".

Fifth Child (holding flag in left hand, extended at left side; first
four hold flags the same):

  Five flags teach us, "Let Justice be your song";

Sixth Child (holding flag same as No. 2, but on right shoulder; first
five children holding flags the same):

  Six flags say we must grow up brave and strong.

Seventh Child (holding flag as No. 3, but on right shoulder; first six
the same):

Seven flags say, "Be loyal to the Right";

Eighth Child (holding flag as No. 4, but on right shoulder, while first
seven hold flags the same):

  Eight flags say, "Love your home with all your might".

Ninth Child (holding flag out in front of body, staff perpendicular;
first eight hold flags the same):

  Nine flags say, "Do not idle time away";

Tenth Child (raising flag and holding it a little to the right side of
body; first nine hold flags the same):

  Ten flags say we must study hard each day,

All (in concert, waving flags above heads):

  So we may grow up wise,
    An honor to our land;
  Fit subjects of Old Glory,
    Our starry banner grand.

The center couple now marches down to center of front, couple to its
right follows, couple to left of first comes next, the couple to right
of second, and fifth couple last. All march, in couples, to corner of
right of stage, up right side, across to center of back, down center of
stage to front, across to left corner of front and off stage.


THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER

Marie Irish

A FLAG SALUTE, MARCH AND DRILL FOR ELEVEN INTERMEDIATE GRADE CHILDREN

 One boy carries a flag considerably larger than the other ten carry.
 This boy we will call the Color-bearer. This march may be given by
 eleven boys or by six boys and five girls.

Music: A patriotic march.

The children enter in single file at left corner of the line, then, if
girls take part, a girl next, then a back of stage, Color-bearer with
large flag leading boy, etc. File marches across back of stage, back
again to left side, diagonally to right corner of front, back to left
corner of back, down left side, across front of stage, back to left
corner and up left side, thus:

[Illustration]

Then from left corner of back pass to center of back, down center of
stage to front, where Color-bearer turns to right, first girl to left,
next boy to right, next girl to left, etc. Pass to corners of front,
up sides of stage, across to center of back, where the Color-bearer
remains standing, while the next boy and first girl form a couple, each
two do the same, couples march down stage till first couple is near
front. Halt, couples face each other, standing about three feet apart.
The Color-bearer now passes down between the two lines and halts at
front of stage, facing audience. The couple nearest back of stage now
marches down between lines, goes to right and halts, next couple comes
down and goes to left, etc., thus:

[Illustration]

The file stands in curved line back of Color-bearer. Music changes to
STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. The children in the line stand with flags held at
right side, as during the march, till the music gets to "Oh! say, does
the star-spangled banner still wave," when they raise flags and wave
them slowly, till close of music. The piece is played through once and
then music ceases, the Color-bearer raises his flag, holding it quite
high. The others take flags in left hands and hold at left sides. When
the large flag is raised they all say:

 I pledge my head, (_touch head with right hand_) my heart, (_lay hand
 over heart_) and my hand, (_raise right hand_)

 To loyally serve my native land; (_drop hand at side_)

 I pledge my power, my honor, and my might (_step forward with right
 foot_)

 To keep my country's name forever bright. (_Step back in line._)

 I pledge the zeal and strength of this right hand (_raise right hand_)

 To keep Old Glory floating o'er our land. (_Point to flag._)

The flags are now held in right hands, out in front of bodies:

 A flag for the sailor, skimming the sea,

 A flag for the soldier, guarding the lea,

 A flag for the patriot, proud to be free,

 A flag for YOU, (_flags extended to audience_) and a flag for ME! (_At
 this flags are laid lovingly across chests and held with both hands._)

Flags are now waved above heads and the line exclaims:

"America forever! (_flags held out at right_) one nation (_flags out at
left_) one country, (_step forward and hold flags high, pointing toward
audience_) one flag!"

Step back in line and hold flags at right sides while the chorus of
COLUMBIA, THE GEM OF THE OCEAN, is played softly. At the conclusion
of that the music changes to a march. The Color-bearer leads and the
others fall in line back of him in the same order as on entering the
stage at beginning, passing in single file to right corner of front, up
right side, across back, half way down left side, then across stage.
The last four children halt in line, the others pass up right side,
across to center of back and down center of stage. The Color-bearer
halts in center, the others take places and stand thus:

[Illustration]

Nos. 8 and 9 face back of stage; 5, 6 and 7 face left; 10 and 11 face
front; 2, 3 and 4 face right; then lines march once around, No. 1
(Color-bearer) standing as the pivot on which others turn. Keep lines
perfectly straight while marching, those on outside going faster to
preserve perfect movement. After rotating once, halt. Color-bearer
raises flag high, others raise flags and repeat:

  I pledge allegiance to my flag--the best in any land,
  And to the Republic for which this flag doth stand;
  One nation, indivisible, the pride of great and small,
  One flag, emblem of Liberty and Justice for us all.

Color-bearer then marches to front of line, in front of No. 2, leads to
right of stage, all following in order, up to back, across to center of
back, down to center, where lines form thus:

[Illustration]

Lines march around, describing circle, those on outside a large one and
others smaller, then Color-bearer takes position at back of stage, the
others form two lines of five each, across stage. Color-bearer gives
following orders, in sharp, quick tones:

Order, flag! Rest flag on floor at right side, holding with right hand.

Carry, flag! Raise flag and hold in right hand, staff nearly vertical,
top resting against right shoulder, arm straight at side.

Present, flag! Move flag to center of body, top in front of face, grasp
staff with left hand, also.

Left shoulder, flag! Flag placed on left shoulder.

Right shoulder, flag! Flag placed on right shoulder.

Carry, flag! As before.

Port, flag! Grasp staff a little below center, hold diagonally across
chest, upper end resting on left shoulder.

Carry, flag! As before.

Parade, rest! Right foot six inches to rear, left knee slightly bent,
rest flag staff on floor in front of center of body and grasp it at top
with both hands.

Carry, flag! As before.

Surrender, flag! Lay flag on floor in front of body.

Recover, flag! Bend forward, pick up flag, hold it in front of body,
staff horizontal.

Carry, flag! As before.

Fix, flag! Kneel on right knee and stand staff of flag upon left knee,
staff vertical.

Triumph, flag! Stand, wave flag high above head.

Color-bearer now marches down center of stage to front, members fall in
line back of him in same order as on entering at beginning. At right
corner of front second boy steps up by first girl, third boy by second
girl, etc. Form couples, Color-bearer marching alone at head. Pass up
right side, across to center of back, down center of stage, across to
left corner front, up left side and off stage.


CIVIL WAR DAUGHTERS

Marie Irish

MARCH, SONG AND DRILL FOR TWELVE GIRLS OF THE INTERMEDIATE OR GRAMMAR
GRADES

 Costumes: Four girls wear red dresses, four wear white and four blue.
 Each girl wears two streamers, about nine inches wide and a yard to a
 yard and a quarter long, depending on the size of the girl, pinned on
 left of chest, thus:

[Illustration]

 The girls in white wear one red and one blue streamer, those in red
 wear a blue and a white streamer, while those in blue wear a red and a
 white one. A bow in the hair, of the same colors as the streamers, is
 also pretty.

March and Song

Music: A march.

Girls enter at back of stage, in single file, reds first, then those
in white and lastly the blues, one streamer held in each hand, arms
hanging at full length at sides. March once around stage in a circle,
then on reaching center of back come down center of stage to front,
where first girl goes to right, second to left, etc., pass to corners
of front, up sides, across to center of back, form couples and march
down center of stage in couples.

At front first couple turns to right, second to left, third to right,
etc., go to corners of front, up sides, across to back, form fours and
march down center to front. As they reach the front in lines of four
each, the three girls nearest the right of stage--a red, a white and
a blue--pass to the right. As the girl in blue comes to front before
turning, the next three--a red, a white and a blue--follow her. At the
same time the three nearest the left of stage pass to left corner and
the next three follow them. This makes two files of Red, White and
Blue, one from either side, which pass to corners of front, up sides,
then those passing up left side on reaching corner of back march in
a diagonal line to right corner of front, while the others pass from
right corner of back to left corner of front. As the lines cross at
center of stage first girl from right goes in front of first girl from
the left, then second girl from right in front of second girl from
left, and so on. Each line crosses front of stage to opposite corner,
those from the right corner keeping to the right of the other line
as the files pass. March up sides of stage, then across to center of
back, where the first three on the line that marched up right side form
the first row, the first three on the line from the left side form
the second row, second three from the right form the third row and
the others the fourth row, and they march down center of stage three
abreast, in the following order : B, W, R, leading; R, W, B; B, W, R;
R, W, B. On reaching front of stage the three of first row pass toward
left corner, second row passes toward right corner, next three follow
the first row toward left and last row follows second row to right.
They stand in curved line at front, thus:

[Illustration: R W B R W B B W R B W R]

Music now charges to COLUMBIA, THE GEM OF THE OCEAN and the girls sing
the following verses. On opening line of each stanza girls bow low, and
during chorus they all join hands, extending them to the front and
swinging streamers from side to side.

  Oh, we are the Civil War Daughters,
    With hearts that are loving and true;
  From Maine to Pacific's blue waters,
    We honor the soldiers in blue.
  We sing of their danger and suff'ring,
    We sing of their courage and might,
  When to save their flag from destruction,
    These boys stood so firm for the right.

  _Chorus_: Three cheers for the soldier in blue,
    Three cheers for his loyalty true;
  Let us honor his name with ovation,
    And give to the soldier his due.

  Oh, we are the Civil War Daughters,
    We sing of the March to the Sea;
  And we sing of Vicksburg's close quarters,
    Of Shiloh where blood flowed so free.
  Though years have gone by since that conflict,
    And the soldiers are passing away,
  We hold them in loving remembrance:
    True Blue--once partly loyal Gray.

  _Chorus_: Three cheers for the soldier, etc.

March music is resumed, those nearest left of stage face left, the
other six face the right of stage, lines march to right and left
corners of front, up sides of stage, from corners of back in diagonal
lines to center of front, where lines cross, first girl from the right
going ahead of first girl from the left, second from the right goes
ahead of second from left, etc. Pass to corners of front, up sides,
stop in lines six abreast along sides of stage, those on left facing
right of stage and vice versa. Mark time, then march six abreast to
center, halt, couples facing each other.

Raise hands holding streamers high, fingers of each couple touching.
Stand thus for several measures of music, then those of the right-hand
line march to front, the other line standing until the last one of the
right line reaches front of stage, when the first one of the left-hand
line leads that line to front and they follow the first six, making
a single file which passes to right corner of stage, up to center of
right, whence the line marches thus:

[Illustration]

Where they cross at center of stage No. 1 goes in front of No. 7, No. 2
in front of No. 8, etc. On returning to center of right side the file
passes up to right corner of back, then across back of stage, forming
in two lines of six each at center-back, march six abreast down to
near-front and halt in lines for the drill.

Drill and Song

Grasp streamers where hands touch them when arms hang full length,
raise hands holding streamers and place on center of breast.

A. Right hand out at side, arm's length, and back, four times.

B. Left hand out at side, and back, four times.

C. Both hands at sides, and back, four times.

D. Right hand upward and outward, arm's length, and back, four times.

E. Left hand, same movement, and back, four times.

F. Both hands up, forming V, and back, four times.

G. Right hand down at side, arm's length, and back, four times.

H. Left hand down at side, and back, four times.

I. Both hands down at sides, and back, four times.

J. Right hand straight out in front of body, and back, four times.

K. Left hand in front of body, and back, four times.

L. Both hands in front of body, and back, four times.

M. Both hands on hips, down at sides and back to hips, four times.

N. Raise right hand above right shoulder and hold left hand down and
out from side till streamers are stretched tight, then lower the right
hand and raise the left, reversing position of streamers, four times.

O. With hands at center of breast raise right hand straight up from
shoulder and left down, arm's length at side, and back, four times,
then left hand up above shoulder and right hand down, and back, four
times.

P. Hands meet above head, arms curved, ends of streamers hanging back
of head, and back, four times.

Q. All kneel on left knee, raise both hands up, arm's length, girls on
first line touching hands together, back line the same, hold position
for several measures, then rise and sing, to tune of YANKEE DOODLE:

  We are the Civil War Daughters,
    We're brave as all creation;
  And though we've never been to war,
    We stand up for our nation.

While singing the chorus those of each line join hands, holding them
just a little higher than shoulders, then step out with right foot and
bring it back to place, once for each measure of music.

  _Chorus_: Honor to the soldier's name!
    Sing the wond'rous story
  Of the splendid fight he made
    When led on by Old Glory.
  Our grandsires fought in that great war,
    Fathers, and uncles, too, sir,
  And that's the very reason why
    We love Red, White and Blue, sir.

  _Chorus_: Honor to the soldier's name, etc.

At close of song the march music is resumed, those on front line pass
to right corner, others follow, all pass up right side of stage, in
single file. From right corner of back the leader takes file around
stage in a large circle, then a smaller circle, etc., until smallest
circle possible for girls to march around is reached, thus:

[Illustration]

When all are in a circle at center of stage, they raise hands on
inside of circle and point upward towards center, hands touching,
holding streamers. March once around this way, then all turn and march
in opposite direction, once around in circle, raising the outside
hands, and holding streamers high. Then all turn and march in opposite
direction once around circle, this time raising both hands up until
fingers meet above head, lowering to side, raising again, etc. Then
those in red march to left corner of front of stage, those in blue to
right corner of front, while those in white come down center to front.
Those in red pass across front to right corner as those in blue pass
to left corner. Those in white wait at front of stage and as the reds
and blues cross front two girls in white follow the reds, the other two
follow the blues, the two lines pass up sides of stage and off at back.


THE BLUE AND THE GRAY ON THE RAPPAHANNOCK

Marie Irish

A DRILL AND MEDLEY FOR FROM TWENTY TO FORTY CHILDREN OF VARIOUS GRADES

 Characters and Costumes: The part of Goddess of Liberty should
 be taken by a young lady with strong voice who recites well.
 She should dress in white, hair flowing, gilt crown, drapery of
 red-white-and-blue, and carry a flag. If desired this part may be
 taken by a boy dressed in patriotic costume to represent Uncle Sam.
 Or a good effect is obtained by having both take part, Liberty and
 Uncle Sam taking turns in reciting. If possible to obtain so many,
 have twelve little girls take part in the Call of the Flag march.
 These girls should be dressed in white with patriotic sashes or
 red-white-and-blue streamers on left shoulder, and all carry flags.
 The Response of the Soldier march is given by twelve boys of various
 sizes, wearing dark suits, one of whom carries a drum and the others
 carry guns. If desired some of the same boys may take part in this who
 take part in the Blue and Gray drill. The latter drill is given by at
 least sixteen boys, grammar grade, eight of whom dress in blue and
 eight in gray. One of the boys in blue carries a U. S. flag, and one
 of those in gray carries a Confederate flag; the rest carry guns.

To the strains of YANKEE DOODLE the Goddess of Liberty comes onto
stage, marches down left side, from left corner front in a diagonal
line to center of back, down to right corner front, up right side,
across to center of back and halts. Music ceases and the little "flag
girls" march in, half from each side of stage, half way between Liberty
and front of stage. The files pass across stage and off at opposite
sides, turn and march on again, meet at center of stage, form couples,
first couple turns and passes off at right side, second couple at left
side, etc., thus:

[Illustration]

The flag is carried in right hand, arm hanging at side, flag resting
against right shoulder. While this march is being given as silently as
possible, Liberty recites in strong, clear voice and a great deal of
feeling the following medley:

THE CALL OF THE FLAG

  "Speed our Republic, O Father on high!
    Lead us in pathways of justice and right;
  Hail! three times hail to our country and flag!
    Girdle with virtue the armor of might."

  "No refuge could save the hireling and slave,
    From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave:
  And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
    O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave."

  "'A song for our banner?' The watchword recall
    Which gave the Republic her station:
  'United we stand--divided we fall';
    It made and preserves us a nation."

          "Up with our banner bright,
          Sprinkled with starry light,
  Spread its fair emblems from mountain to shore,
          While through the sounding sky
          Loud rings the Nation's cry--
  UNION AND LIBERTY! ONE EVERMORE!"

The girls' march should be arranged to close about the time Liberty
finishes speaking. One verse and chorus of MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA is
then played and as music ceases the small boys come on and march in
the same way as the girls did, the drummer boy beating time softly,
occasionally. While the boys march Liberty speaks:

THE RESPONSE OF THE SOLDIER

  "War! war! _war!_ Heaven aid the right!
  God move the hero's arm in the fearful fight!
  God send the women sleep in the long, long night."

  "Never or now! cries the blood of a nation,
    Poured on the turf where the red rose should bloom.
  Now is the day and the hour of salvation;
    Never or now! peals the trumpet of doom!"

  "Lay down the axe, fling by the spade,
    Leave in its track the toiling plough;
  The rifle and the bayonet-blade
    For arms like yours are fitter now:

  "And let the hands that ply the pen
    Quit the light task and learn to wield
  The horseman's crooked brand, and rein
    The charger on the battlefield."

  "And how can a man die better
    Than facing fearful odds
  For the ashes of his fathers
    And the temple of his gods?"

As Liberty concludes the lines and the boys march off, one verse and
chorus of COLUMBIA, THE GEM OF THE OCEAN, is played, then music changed
to a patriotic march and the boys in Blue and Gray march on in two
companies. Grays come on at front corner of right and Blues at front
corner of left, march up sides of stage, across to near-center of back,
down to front of stage, to corners, up sides and at corners of back
second boy in each line steps up by first, fourth by third, etc., and
form double files. March to near-center of stage, down center to front,
up sides, and at corners of back each company forms fours, march half
way down stage and halt in lines of four each, thus:

Liberty

  G G G G          B B B B
  G G G G          B B B B

Music stops and Liberty recites:

THE CONTEST

   1. "And there was mounting in hot haste; the steed,
   2. The mustering squadron, and the clattering car,
   3. Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,
   4. And swiftly forming in the ranks of war."
   5. "By torch and trumpet fast arrayed,
   6. Each horseman drew his battle-blade,
   7. And furious every charger neighed,
   8. To join the dreadful revelry.
   9. Then shook the hills with thunder riven,
  10. Then rushed the steed to battle driven,
  11. And louder than the bolts of heaven
  12. Far flashed the red artillery."
  13. "Hark! Hark ! there go the well-known crashing volleys,
          the long-continued roar
  14. That swells and falls but never ceases wholly, until the
          fight is o'er.
  15. Up toward the crystal gates of heaven ascending, the mortal
          tempests beat,
  16. As if they sought to try their cause together, before God's
          very feet."
  17. "Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green,
      That host with their banners at sunset were seen;
      Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown,
      That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown."

The above lines are recited rather rapidly until number 17 is reached,
the last four being given slowly and sadly. When marching in the boys
hold guns in right hand, arm full length at side, gun resting against
right shoulder. While Liberty recites the boys go through following
movements, corresponding to the numbers of the lines of the medley:
1. Salute, by raising left hand until the forefinger touches forehead
above left eye, thumb and fingers extended, palm to right. Drop arm
at side. 2. Lines of Grays face left of stage, and Blues face the
right. 3 and 4. All mark time as if marching rapidly. 5. Rest butt of
gun on floor, arms hanging naturally at sides, right hand holding the
barrel between thumb and fingers. 6. Raise gun and move to position
in front of body, barrel in front of face, hold with both hands, left
above the right. 7. Hold gun diagonally across chest, barrel resting
on left shoulder and butt against right thigh. 8. Blues take steady
aim at Grays, and vice versa. 9. Arrange for some noise at side of
stage to represent firing. 10 and 11. Blues kneel and aim at Grays,
and vice versa. 12. More "booming" behind scenes. 13. Rise and each
company retreats backward a step, holding guns at right sides. 14. Come
forward toward center, quickly, and aim. 15. Rest guns. 16. Bring guns
to position and mark time as if marching rapidly. 17. Each company
faces front of stage, stack guns in lots of four each and then sit on
floor in lines of four, facing front of stage. Music is resumed and
JOHN BROWN'S BODY is played through once, then Liberty steps forward to
front of stage and recites:

  "The sun had sunk into the distant west;
  The cannon ceased to roar, which tell of rest--
  Rest from the shedding of a nation's blood,
  Rest to lay their comrades 'neath the sod.

  "'Twas early spring, and calm and still the night;
  The moon had risen casting silvery light;
  On either side of stream the armies lay
  Waiting for morn to renew the fray.

  "The Rappahannock silently flowed on,
  Between the hills so fair to look upon;
  Whose dancing waters tingled with silvery light,
  Vied in their beauty with the starry night.

  "But list! from northern hills there steal along
  The softest strains of music and of song----"

A good effect is obtained by turning off lights during the music of
JOHN BROWN'S BODY so stage is dim during the speaking and the singing.
As Liberty pauses the Boys in Blue sing a stanza of THE STAR-SPANGLED
BANNER. When they finish, the Boys in Gray sing a stanza of DIXIE
LAND. It is a good plan to have a chorus of voices behind the scenes
help with the singing of both songs, to give more force to them.
As last song is finished lights are turned on, Liberty resumes her
place at back of stage, boys rise, leave guns, Boy in Gray leaves his
Confederate flag, all march to near-front of stage and form across in
two lines of eight each, thus:

  G B G B G B G B
  B G B G B G B G

The little girls in white who carried flags now march in and stand in a
row back of the boys, Liberty stands just back of the line of girls.

Liberty recites:

  "The fiercest agonies have the shortest reign,
  And after dreams of horror comes again
  The welcome morning with its rays of peace."

The little girls recite in concert:

  "Peace! and no longer from its brazen portals
    The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies!
  But beautiful as songs of the immortals
    The holy melodies of love arise."

All the boys recite together:

  "The union of lakes, the union of lands,
    The union of States none can sever;
  The union of hearts, the union of hands,
    And the flag of our Union forever."

Liberty waves her flag, the girls with flags wave them above the heads
of the Boys in Blue and Gray, each boy in blue joins right hand with a
boy in gray, and everyone sings the first stanza of MY COUNTRY, 'TIS OF
THEE. Colored light may be thrown upon the scene for a tableau and then
the curtain dropped, or Liberty may come to front of stage, lead the
boys (who follow in single file), and then the little girls last, once
around the stage and then off.


PATRIOTIC SONG PANTOMIMES

Marie Irish

The Star-Spangled Banner

Hang back of stage with dark cloth, cover a box with dark material and
to back or center of it fasten a large flag. Let the box stand four
feet from wall so as to leave room to pass behind it.

If possible have ten girls of good size, ten small girls and ten boys
take part, though this number may be reduced if necessary. All the
girls dress in white with trimmings of red, white and blue and each
carries a flag. As the music of STAR-SPANGLED BANNER begins the large
girls march on in two lines, half coming from right and half from left.
After them come the small girls, half from each side, all march and
take places thus:

[Illustration]

They stand motionless, with flags at right side until music reaches
words, "Oh! say, does the star-spangled banner still wave," then all
raise flags and wave them. As music of second stanza begins, the girls
hold flags again at sides, and the boys march in, each one carrying
an air-gun or rifle. They come on stage, half from right and half
from left, marching slowly and carefully. As the boys get nearly to
center of stage each girl quickly raises her flag, takes aim with it
as though it were a gun, pointing it at line of boys. The boys stop as
if in fear, then pass quickly from stage, those from the right going
off at left, and those from left going off at right. Then as the music
reaches the refrain, sing the words of third stanza instead of second,
the boys helping behind scenes and all singing with spirit, "And the
star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave, O'er the land of the free
and the home of the brave," the girls waving their flags. A fine effect
may be obtained by burning colored light[K] during the singing.

[K] The colored light referred to is what is known as Tableaux Light.
It is put up in quarter-pound cans, each of one color, in Red, Green,
Blue, Gold, and White. It may be had from the publishers of this book
for per can, 30 cents; two for 55 cents; or four for $1.00; pre-paid.

America

Hang back of stage with dark cloth, also cover with dark material a
box that stands at center of back of stage. On this box, as curtain is
drawn, stands a young lady dressed as Columbia, wearing white gown,
drapery of red, white and blue bunting, and gilt crown on head. She
holds in one hand a large flag and in the other six streamers made of
cambric: two white, two red, and two blue, three or four inches wide
and nearly two yards long. On either side of Columbia stand three
girls, dressed in white and wearing sashes of red, white and blue, tied
in a bow at side. Columbia holds streamers by one end and each girl
holds the end of one. They stand thus:

[Illustration]

As music of second stanza is begun they kneel, taking position as
marked by crosses in the diagram. As music of third stanza is begun
the girls rise, raise hands holding streamers, point upward, and gaze
reverently heavenward. All sing very softly the words of stanza, "Our
fathers' God, to Thee, Author of liberty," etc.

Swanee Ribber

Have the words of the song sung by someone behind the scenes, the verse
by one person and the chorus by a number of voices. Across the stage
hang a curtain, leaving room in front for a person to walk. A young
man, or tall boy, comes on stage with face blackened and wig of curled
hair (made by sewing curled hair onto a circular piece of black cloth,
then running a rubber cord around edge and drawing up to fit head[L]),
wearing stiff hat, common dark suit and a large bright necktie. He
stands in front of curtain at right of stage as the words are sung:

[L] These wigs may also be purchased, ready for use, from the
publishers of this book.

  "'Way down upon de Swanee ribber,
    Far, far away,
  Dere's wha' my heart is turning ebber,
    Dere's wha' de old folks stay."

With head bent, hands in pockets and a dejected manner he walks slowly
across stage to left and back to center during the words:

  "All up and down de whole creation
    Sadly I roam,
  Still longing for de old plantation
    And for de old folks at home."

He stands at center of front during singing of chorus:

  "All de world am sad and dreary (_hands extended at sides, arm's length_)
    Eb'rywhere I roam; (_hands brought together in front of body_)
  Oh! darkies, how my heart grows weary (_right hand over heart_)
    Far from de old folks at home!" (_left hand in pocket,
     head bowed on right hand, sad, dejected attitude_)

At close of chorus the impersonator goes to right corner of front of
stage and stands there during the second stanza. The curtain is now
drawn, revealing two little darkey boys, scantily clothed, feet bare,
and old hats on heads. They chase each other across back of stage
during the words:

  "All round de little farm I wandered
    When I was young,
  Den many happy days I squander'd,
    Many de songs I sung;
  When I was playing with my brudder
    Happy was I;"

A girl with face blackened, bright cap on head, calico dress, large
apron, and bright kerchief around neck comes on stage and one little
darkey boy stands on either side of her as the words are sung:

  "Oh! take me to my kind old mudder,
    Dere let me live and die."

The mother and little boys stand at back of stage during chorus, the
young man comes out to near-center and acts chorus as before, except at
the words, "Far from de old folks at home!" he turns and extends both
arms toward the group at back of stage.

As third stanza is begun the mother and boys pass off and a young
colored lady, gaily and gaudily dressed in bright colors, with a large,
"much-trimmed" hat, comes on and stands at back of stage. She gazes
off to side of stage and a young man, dressed about like one who does
the acting, comes on carrying a banjo. She goes to meet him, they walk
back to center of back, she sits on a stump of wood (or something to
give an outdoor effect), and he sits at her feet and pretends to play
the banjo. During the singing of this stanza the impersonator stands as
before, at side of stage, but as chorus begins he comes toward center
of front and acts as during second singing of chorus. The mother and
two boys come back on and stand, tableau effect, beside the girl and
boy with the banjo.

The Blue and the Gray

Hang back of stage with black cloth and fasten on wall, staffs crossed,
two good-sized flags. A few feet from the back, with about four feet
aisle between them, arrange two graves by using small boxes covered
with dark cloth for the mounds and nailing at the head of each a white
board for a stone. If it is not desired to have the words sung they
may be recited by someone at side of stage. A girl dressed as a woman,
all in black, comes on slowly, passes across back of stage from left
to right, down right side, up to aisle between two mounds and kneels
beside one of them as the stanza is read:

  "By the flow of the inland river,
    Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
  Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,
    Asleep are the ranks of the dead;
      Under the sod and the dew,
        Waiting the judgment day;
      Under the one, the Blue,
        Under the other, the Gray."

She rises and from a small basket which she carries she places a
bouquet on the mound by which she knelt, then turns and places one on
the other mound as the words are read:

  "From the silence of sorrowful hours,
    The desolate mourners go,
  Lovingly laden with flowers,
    Alike for the friend and the foe;
      Under the sod and the dew,
        Waiting the judgment day;
      Under the roses, the Blue,
        Under the lilies, the Gray."

As stanza is finished she passes to back and stands by flags. Six girls
in white, each carrying a small basket of flowers, march on at left
back, pass to center, then down aisle between mounds to front; three
turn to each side, pass around and stand in two lines of three each,
one line on outside of each mound, both lines facing center, while
stanza is read:

  "So, with an equal splendor,
    The morning sun-rays fall,
  With a touch impartially tender,
    On the blossoms blooming for all;
      Under the sod and the dew,
        Waiting the judgment day;
      Broidered with gold, the Blue,
        Mellowed with gold, the Gray."

As the next stanza is begun the girls cover the mounds with flowers,
then march back up the aisle between mounds and stand three on each
side of girl in black by flags, finally all marching off stage when
stanza is finished:

  "No more shall the war cry sever,
    Or the winding rivers be red;
  They banish our anger for ever
    When they laurel the graves of our dead.
      Under the sod and the dew,
        Waiting the judgment day;
      Love and tears for the Blue,
        Tears and love for the Gray."

                                                --_Francis Miles Finch_

Auld Lang Syne

This should be given by two as small children as can act it nicely: a
little girl with hair powdered, long dark dress, white kerchief and
apron, small black lace cap and spectacles, and a boy with glasses,
powdered hair, long trousers, coat fixed by sewing black "swallow
tails" onto a short dark coat, a white cravat and a stiff hat. As song
begins they sit at a small table on which are cups and saucers and a
tea-pot of tea. The girl pours out a cup of tea for each during the
words:

  "Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
    And never brought to mind?
  Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
    And days of auld lang syne?"

Then as the chorus is sung the boy rises and bows low, then sits and
they raise cups, clink them and each takes a drink:

  "For auld lang syne, my dear,
    For auld lang syne;
  We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
    For auld lang syne."

They lean forward and appear to be talking during the words of second
verse:

  "We twa ha'e run aboot the braes,
    And pu'd the gowans fine;
  But we've wandered mony a weary foot
    Sin' auld lang syne."

During singing of chorus second time the girl rises, makes a courtesy
to boy, then sits and they drink as before.

They stand and shake hands during the stanza:

  "And here's a hand, my trusty frien',
    And gi'e's a hand o' thine;
  We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
    For auld lang syne."

During the chorus each turns to table, takes up cup, both bow, clink
cups and drink.

Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean

Words are sung by a chorus of voices off stage. At center of stage
have a pedestal--box covered with dark cloth will do--on which a girl
dressed as Goddess of Liberty stands, holding a large flag. A number
of girls in white, each with a small flag, come in and march in circle
around Liberty as the words are sung:

  "Oh, Columbia, the gem of the ocean,
    The home of the brave and the free,
  The shrine of each patriot's devotion,
    A world offers homage to thee."

Six boys march in and stand three on each side of Liberty, the line of
girls standing back of the boys and waving flags during words:

  "Thy mandates make heroes assemble,
    When Liberty's form stands in view;
  Thy banners make tyranny tremble,
    When borne by the red, white and blue."

During the chorus the boys stand in line in front of Liberty and the
girls march around them, waving flags. Liberty waves flag also.

Half of the boys and half of the girls stand in lines on either side of
Liberty and give salute to flag during the words[M]:

  "'Old Glory,' to greet now come hither,
    With eyes full of love to the brim;
  May the wreaths of our heroes ne'er wither,
    Nor a star of their banner grow dim."

[M] The words in these four lines have been somewhat changed to fit the
occasion.

Then during the rest of the third stanza and the chorus the boys stand
at back of Liberty, three on either side, and the girls kneel in
tableau effect in front of her.

Home, Sweet Home

At back of stage arrange a family group around a small table on which
are some flowers and a lamp. The mother is sewing, father reading, a
little girl playing with a dolly, and a boy working examples. All look
happy and cosy. As curtain is drawn revealing the scene, the first
stanza of HOME, SWEET HOME is sung, and a young man in soldier uniform,
carrying a gun over shoulder, marches back and forth across front of
stage as if on duty, looking sad and lonely.

(If desired, instead of a family group the scene may disclose an
elderly lady with bible on her knee.)


TABLEAUX

Marie Irish

When I'm a Man

A little boy wearing a soldier cap, a blue coat much too large for him,
a sword buckled at his side, a gun in one hand and a flag in the other,
stands in center of stage. As colored light[N] is thrown on the stage
he speaks:

  "When I'm a man, a big, tall man,
    I'll be a soldier, brave and true,
  I will fight my country's battles,
    Led on by the Red, White and Blue."

[N] See footnote, p. 124.

The Soldier's Farewell

Little boy dressed as in preceding scene stands with a little girl
who has on a long dress and hair done on top of head. She stands half
turned away from the boy, who has a hand on her shoulder as if trying
to comfort her. Her face is buried in her hands and she seems to weep
as he recites:

  "How can I bear to leave thee?
  It breaks my heart to grieve thee,
  But now, whate'er befalls me,
  I go where duty calls me."

The March of Civilization

A curtain is drawn, revealing at the back of a dimly-lighted stage an
Indian tepee with several Indians standing near. A march is played and
after several measures the others come onto stage. The line is led by
boy dressed as Uncle Sam, who takes position at center of stage in
front of tepee. On either side of him stands a soldier, and next to
the soldiers stand sailors. The others arrange themselves in line,
some on one side and some on other, some sitting on floor in front of
line. One, with bible, dresses as minister, one as farmer with large
straw hat and rake over shoulder. One as doctor, one as baker, one with
tools as carpenter, etc. A girl dresses as nurse; another with gown and
mortar-bored cap as a student; one has pen and scroll for writing; and
another carries a typewriter, sits on floor with it in front of her and
pretends to write on it. When all are in places colored light is thrown
on scene and Uncle Sam recites:

  "Onward, forward, with steady pace,
  Progress leads the American race;
  And 'neath her penetrating ray
  New wonders come to light each day."

Liberty

A colored boy, barefoot and scantily dressed in short trousers and
colored shirt, with a white cloth around head for turban, stands
fastened to a box with a chain. The box is covered with dark cloth and
on it stands girl dressed as Liberty--long white robe, crown, a drapery
of red, white and blue, and in her hand a flag. As light is turned on
she looks sadly at boy, then waves her flag above him, and the chain
which was lightly fastened drops to floor as boy gives it a pull. He
looks at fallen chain, then sinks on knees and, raising hands, clasps
them and gazes at Liberty as if asking help. Liberty waves flag above
him.

Peace

On a dais at back of stage sits boy costumed as Uncle Sam, with a large
flag. On one side of him stands Liberty, in white with drapery of red,
white and blue, and gilt crown. On other side is Wisdom, wearing white
dress with purple mantle fastened on right shoulder, bronze cap with
plumes, sandals, and shield and spear by her side. To a side and a
little in advance of Liberty stands Truth, all in white and carrying
banner with "Truth" printed on it. By Wisdom stands Justice, in blue
with scarlet mantle fastened on right shoulder and thrown back over
left arm. In her right hand she holds a pair of scales and her left
rests on a sword. Kneeling at right corner of dais is Ceres, the
goddess of corn and harvests, dressed in yellow trimmed with grain, her
left hand on sheaf of wheat, her right holding a horn of grain extended
to Uncle Sam. Kneeling at left of dais is Pomona, the goddess of
fruits, dressed in red trimmed with vines and clusters of grapes. She
holds up to Uncle Sam a basket of fruit. As light is turned on a stanza
of AMERICA is played.

Scenes from the Life of Lincoln

I. THE STUDENT

Arrange a fireplace by nailing up boards covered with dark cloth in
this shape |----|, piling some wood under it, pouring on some wood
alcohol, which is set on fire as curtain is drawn. Lying on the floor
studying by light of fire is a tall, dark boy.

II. THE LABORER

A tall, dark boy in common work clothes, trousers rather short, stands
with axe upraised ready to strike.

III. THE EMANCIPATOR

A tall, dark boy dressed in long black coat and rather ill-fitting
clothes, dark hair rumpled and pushed back from forehead, sits writing
as a rough-looking fellow with whip in one hand tries to pull a little
boy, face blackened and poorly clothed, from his negro mother, who
clings to child and weeps. A boy marches on stage, carrying large flag
and recites:

  "No slave beneath that starry flag,
    The emblem of the free!
  No fettered hand shall wield the brand
    That smites for liberty:
  No tramp of servile armies
    Shall shame Columbia's shore,
  For he who fights for freedom's rights
    Is free for evermore!"

                                                  --_George L. Taylor._
IV. THE PARDONER

Boy dressed as Lincoln stands in center of stage. By his side kneels
a young lady, looking imploringly at him, hands raised and clasped.
Lincoln shakes head sadly for "no." Girl bows head on hands and weeps.
Lincoln goes hurriedly to desk, writes, gives her the paper. She
kisses his hand, waves farewell and hurries from stage.

V. THE MARTYR

On an easel at center of stage have a picture of Lincoln, two large
flags draped above it and smaller ones around it. On either side of
picture stand girls dressed in white trimmed with red, white and blue
bunting, each holding a flag. They repeat:

  "He went about his work--such work as few
    Ever had laid on head and heart and hand--
  As one who knows, where there's a task to do,
    Man's honest will must Heaven's good grace command.

  "So he went forth to battle, on the side
    That he felt clear was Liberty's and Right's,
  As in his peasant boyhood he had plied
    His warfare with rude Nature's thwarting mights.

  "So he grew up, a destined work to do,
    And lived to do it: four long-suffering years.
  Ill-fate, ill-feeling, ill-report lived through,
    And then he heard the hisses changed to cheers."

                                                        --_Tom Taylor._



SONGS, STORIES, FACTS


WHEN LINCOLN WAS A LITTLE BOY

Clara J. Denton

_Tune_: YANKEE DOODLE

  When Lincoln was a little boy,
    So fond was he of reading,
  His book was with him at the plough
    Or in the garden weeding.

  His home was in the woods and so
    He couldn't have much schooling.
  He had to work the live-long day,
    And had no time for fooling.

  He understood the plough and hoe
    And with the ax was handy.
  He didn't care for dressing up,
    And never was a dandy.

  For all the while his head was filled
    With plans for gaining knowledge.
  A first-class lawyer he became,
    Yet never went to college.

  He borrowed books from far and near,
    From every kindly neighbor,
  And studied them most faithfully
    When resting from his labor.

  _Chorus_: Keep on working, working on,
              Daily knowledge claiming,
            And you at last will reach the heights
              At which you are aiming.


THE DAY WE CELEBRATE

Clara J. Denton

_Tune_: WORK, FOR THE NIGHT IS COMING[O]

  The day that gave us Lincoln
    Is one we all love well;
  The day which now we honor
    More than we can tell.
  O little old log cabin,
    Afar in forest wild,
  We love your roof that sheltered
    This most wondrous child.

  And while we sing his praises
    We'll try like him to be:
  All upright, true and noble,
    From self-seeking free.
  And we will yet remember,
    However poor our state,
  There still is a chance, like Lincoln,
    To grow good and great.

  This day we will remember
    In loyal love and joy;
  For time or change can never
    Faith in him destroy.
  Yes, wreathe this day with flowers
    Forever in our thought;
  It gave the world a hero
    And sweet freedom brought.

[O] Music for this may be found in Golden Glees song book, by S. C.
Hanson. Price, thirty-five cents, postpaid.


LINCOLN SONG

_Tune_: TENTING ON THE OLD CAMP GROUND

  We are thinking today of a loved one lost,
    Lincoln, the true, the brave;
  Of the strong one who came, when tempest tossed,
    Our nation's bark to save.

  _Chorus_:

  Many are the hearts that are mourning today,
    Mourning for the brave laid low;
  Many are the eyes looking up to say,
    Oh, why must this be so!
  Help us to say, humbly we pray,
    Father, may Thy will be done!

  We are thinking today how he led us on,
    Just as the Lord led him,
  To the glorious victory well-nigh won;
    And our eyes with tears grow dim.

  _Chorus_: Many are the hearts, etc.

  We are weeping today, but the hour will come,
    Come when we all shall see
  Why the will of the Lord hath called him Home,
    No more with us to be.

  _Chorus_: Many are the hearts, etc.


THE NAME WE SING

Clara J. Denton

_Tune_: AMERICA

  Of Lincoln now we sing,
  Loud let the welkin ring,
    The sound prolong.
  He broke the bondsman's thrall
  And freedom brought to all,
  His mighty blows let fall
    The shackles strong.

  This man of pure intent,
  Whose every thought was bent
    Sweet peace to bring.
  O eyes so keen of view,
  O mighty heart so true,
  O soul with courage new,
    Of thee we sing.

  So long as human speech
  O'er this broad land shall reach
    From shore to shore,
  Here will his noble name
  Its high place always claim
  Unequaled in its fame
    Forever more.


HIS NAME

Clara J. Denton

_Tune_: MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA

  In old Kentucky's wilds in a cabin that we know,
  Before this day of days just one hundred years ago,
  A blue-eyed baby came to this world of strife and woe,
      And plain "Abraham" they called him.

  _Chorus_:

  O yes, O yes, for truth will make you free,
  O yes, O yes, sweet truth gives liberty.
  We'll sing this chorus over, and shout from sea to sea
  'Tis now "Honest Abe" we honor.

  But later on, because he the truth would always tell,
  Another name they gave him and it became him well;
  A name we'll always treasure, which none could buy or sell,
      And now "Honest Abe" we honor.

  _Chorus_: O yes, O yes, etc.

  And, now, if we could choose a great blessing for each youth,
  A something that would last till the end of life forsooth,
  We know we'd choose at once "Honest Abe's" great love for truth,
      And now "Honest Abe" we honor.

  _Chorus_: O yes, O yes, etc.

  To be the President is indeed an honor great,
  And most nobly did he bear his duty's heavy weight,
  But the name that first he won was more than royal state,
      And now "Honest Abe" we honor.

  _Chorus_: O yes, O yes, etc.


A SONG OF REJOICING

Clara J. Denton

_Tune_: THE BATTLE CRY OF FREEDOM

  We are children of one flag, friends, yes, of the colors three,
    And proudly we're singing of Lincoln.
  He it was who kept this country all safe for you and me,
    And proudly we're singing of Lincoln.

  _Chorus_: The old flag forever, hurrah! friends, hurrah!
                "To Lincoln we owe it"
              Shout from afar,
            While we rally 'round the flag, friends,
              Rally once again,
            Still proudly we're singing of Lincoln.

  And today we'll not forget while our flag is waving high,
    And gladly we're singing of Lincoln,
  All the soldier boys that fought and for us did bravely die.
    Still gladly we're singing of Lincoln.

  _Chorus_: The old flag forever, etc.

  Yes, the country that he saved we will honor ever more,
    While loudly we're singing of Lincoln.
  And the dear old flag shall wave still on high from shore to shore,
    While loudly we're singing of Lincoln.

  _Chorus_: The old flag forever, etc.

  Since for Freedom did he live, and for Freedom did he die,
    Now proudly we're singing of Lincoln.
  We will strive like him to keep all our standards pure and high,
    While proudly we're singing of Lincoln.

  _Chorus_: The old flag forever, etc.


LINCOLN DEAR

  Laura R. Smith       Clarence L. Riege

[MUSIC]

  _Lively_

  1. Wave the bonnie banners high, O Lincoln dear!
     A host of children passing by, Lincoln dear,
     Will sing to you their sweetest song,
     As they now proudly march along,
     For laurels unto you belong, O Lincoln dear,

  2. Bonnie flags shall crown you now, O Lincoln dear,
     We place them by your noble brow, O Lincoln dear;
     And fairer far than monument,
     The love from our young march hearts is sent,
     You were our honored President, O Lincoln dear.

  Chorus:

     Wave the banners high, The Red, the White, the Blue,
     Wave the banners high, To Lincoln dear we're true.
     O wave the bonnie banners, How proudly they all sway,
     We wave the Red, the White, the Blue, For Lincoln dear today.


LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY

  Laura R. Smith                F. F. Churchill &
                               Mrs. Clara Grindell

[MUSIC]

  1. O dear Lincoln, we are singing
     Of your noble deeds to-day;
     Ever fond will be your mem'ry;
     In our hearts you hold full sway.
     Your last battle now is ended,
     Your last victo-ry is o'er,
     But your dear name we will honor,
     And sing praises evermore.

  2. O dear Lincoin, we are bringing
     Choicest flow'rs that ever grew;
     And we wave our royal banner,
     Flag of red and white and blue.
     Farewell, Lincoln, we are singing,
     Sweet indeed may be your rest;
     And you in our glorious country,
     Take a place with he-roes blest.

  Chorus:

     Farewell, Lincoln, we are  trying
     To be, like you, true and brave,
     For we can but truly honor
     One who freedom to all gave.


THE SUNNY SOUTHLAND

  Laura R. Smith      Clarence L. Riege

[MUSIC]

  _Allegretto_

  1. 'Way down in the sunny Southland
     Lives the little black boy, you know;
     His mother sings a lullaby,
     To the tune of the old banjo....

  2. 'Way down in the sun-ny Southland,
      Where the sky is so bright and blue,
      The black boy on the banjo strings
      Likes to play the same tune to you....

  3. 'Way down in the sunny Southland
      You will hear this sweet lullaby,
      The wee black boy must go to sleep,
      For the Sandman is passing by....

  Chorus:

      Plunkety plunk, Plunkety plunk,
      Down in the cottonfield we go;
      Plunkety plunk, plunkety plunk,
      Plunkety plunk, plunk-plunk, banjo.


WHY DUMMY CLOCKS MARK 8:18

There are few who have not seen the ordinary sign of a jeweler, an
immense imitation of a watch hanging over the front of the store. But
it is safe to say that the number who have ever detected anything
curious in these same signs is small. At 8:18 p. m., April 14, 1865,
Abraham Lincoln was assassinated in Ford's Theatre at Washington
by John Wilkes Booth. Since that fatal night every one of these
watch-signs that has gone from the factory of the only man who makes
them has shown the hour of 8:18. The man who makes them said: "I was
working on a sign for Jeweler Adams, who kept a store on Broadway
across the street from Stewart's. He came running in while I was at
work and told me the news. 'Paint those hands at the hour Lincoln was
shot, that the deed may never be forgotten,' he said. I did so. Since
then every watch-sign that has gone out of here has been lettered the
same as that one."

                                               --_Journal of Education_


LINCOLN'S TENDERNESS

When Lincoln was on his way to the National Cemetery at Gettysburg, an
old gentleman told him that his only son fell on Little Round Top at
Gettysburg and he was going to look at the spot.

Mr. Lincoln replied: "You have been called on to make a terrible
sacrifice for the Union, and a visit to that spot, I fear, will open
your wounds afresh.

"But, oh, my dear sir, if we had reached the end of such sacrifices,
and had nothing left for us to do but to place garlands on the graves
of those who have already fallen, we could give thanks even amidst our
tears; but when I think of the sacrifices of life yet to be offered,
and the hearts and homes yet to be made desolate before this dreadful
war is over, my heart is like lead within me, and I feel at times like
hiding in deep darkness."

At one of the stopping places of the train a beautiful little girl,
having a bunch of rosebuds in her hand, was held up to an open window
of the President's car, lisping, "Flowerth for the Prethident." The
President stepped to the window, took the rosebuds, bent down and
kissed the child, saying: "You are a sweet little rosebud yourself! I
hope your life will open into perpetual beauty and goodness."


GRANTING A PARDON

 This story, probably better than any other, illustrates the noble and
 sublime qualities of our great Lincoln. It is a forceful illustration
 of his justice--justice tempered with mercy.

"Well, my child," he said, in his pleasant, cheerful tone, "what do you
want so bright and early in the morning?"

"Bennie's life, please," faltered Blossom.

"Bennie? Who is Bennie?"

My brother, sir. They are going to shoot him for sleeping at his post.

"Oh, yes;" and Mr. Lincoln ran his eye over the papers before him.
"I remember. It was a fatal sleep. You see, child, it was a time
of special danger. Thousands of lives might have been lost for his
culpable negligence."

"So my father said," replied Blossom, gravely; "but poor Bennie was
so tired and Jemmie so weak. He did the work of two, sir, and it was
Jemmie's night, not his; but Jemmie was too tired, and Bennie never
thought about himself, that he was tired, too."

"What is this you say, child? Come here; I do not understand," and the
kind man caught eagerly, as ever, at what seemed to be a justification
of an offense.

Blossom went to him; he put his hand tenderly on her shoulder and
turned up the pale, anxious face toward his. How tall he seemed! and
he was the President of the United States, too. But Blossom told her
simple and straightforward story, and handed Mr. Lincoln Bennie's
letter to read.

He read it carefully; then, taking up his pen, wrote a few hasty lines
and rang his bell.

Blossom heard this order given: "Send this dispatch at once."

The President then turned to the girl and said: "Go home, my child, and
tell that father of yours, who could approve his country's sentence
even when it took the life of a child like that, that Abraham Lincoln
thinks the life far too precious to be lost. Go back--or wait until
tomorrow. Bennie will need a change after he has so bravely faced
death; he shall go with you."

"God bless you, sir," said Blossom; and who shall doubt that God heard
and registered the request?

Two days after this interview the young soldier came to the White House
with his little sister. He was called into the President's private
office and a strap fastened upon his shoulder. Mr. Lincoln then said:
"The soldier that could carry a sick comrade's baggage and die for the
act so uncomplainingly deserves well of his country." Then Bennie and
Blossom took their way to their green mountain home. A crowd gathered
at the Mill depot to welcome them back; and as Farmer Owen's hand
grasped that of his boy, tears flowed down his cheeks, and he was heard
to say fervently: "The Lord be praised!"


LINCOLN'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY

 This is what Abraham Lincoln himself had to say of his own and his
 family history, in a letter to his friend, the Hon. Jesse W. Fell, of
 Bloomington, Ill., under date of December 20, 1859--the year preceding
 his election to the Presidency, and about the time his friends were
 beginning to think seriously of his nomination:

"I was born February 12, 1809, in Hardin County, Kentucky. My parents
were both born in Virginia, of distinguished families--second families,
perhaps I should say. My mother, who died in my tenth year, was of a
family of the name of Hanks, some of whom now reside in Adams and
others in Macon County, Illinois. My paternal grandfather, Abraham
Lincoln, emigrated from Rockingham County, Virginia, to Kentucky, about
1781 or 1782, where, a year or two later, he was killed by Indians,
not in battle, but by stealth, when he was laboring to open a farm in
the forest. His ancestors, who were Quakers, went to Virginia from
Berks County, Pennsylvania. An effort to identify them with the New
England family of the same name ended in nothing more than a similarity
of Christian names in both families, such as Enoch, Levi, Mordecai,
Solomon, Abraham, and the like.

"My father, at the death of his father, was but six years of age, and
he grew up literally without education. He removed from Kentucky to
what is now Spencer County, Indiana, in my eighth year. We reached our
new home about the time the State came into the Union (1816). It was
a wild region, with many bears and other wild animals still in the
woods. There I grew up. There were some schools, so-called, but no
qualification was ever required of a teacher beyond 'reading, 'ritin',
and 'cipherin' to the Rule of Three. If a straggler, supposed to
understand Latin, happened to sojourn in the neighborhood he was looked
upon as a wizard. There was absolutely nothing to excite ambition for
education. Of course, when I came of age, I did not know much. Still,
somehow, I could read, write, and cipher to the Rule of Three, but that
was all. I have not been to school since. The little advance I now have
upon this store of education I have picked up from time to time under
the pressure of necessity.

"I was raised to farm-work, which I continued until I was twenty-two.
At twenty-one I came to Illinois and passed the first year in Macon
County. Then I got to New Salem, at that time in Sangamon, now in
Menard County, where I remained a year as a sort of clerk in a
store. Then came the Black Hawk War and I was elected a captain of
volunteers--a success which gave me more pleasure than any I have
had since. I went through the campaign, was elected, ran for the
Legislature in the same year (1832), and was beaten--the only time I
have ever been beaten by the people. The next, and three succeeding
biennial elections, I was elected to the Legislature. I was not a
candidate afterwards. During this legislative period I had studied law
and removed to Springfield to practice it. In 1846 I was once elected
to the lower House of Congress, but was not a candidate for reëlection.
From 1849 to 1854, both inclusive, practiced law more assiduously than
ever before. Always a Whig in politics, and generally on the Whig
electoral ticket making active canvasses. I was losing interest in
politics when the repeal of the Missouri Compromise aroused me again.
What I have done since then is pretty well known.

"If any personal description of me is thought desirable it may be said
I am, in height, six feet four inches, nearly; lean in flesh, weighing,
on an average, one hundred and eighty pounds; dark complexion, with
coarse black hair, and gray eyes. No other marks or brands recollected.

                             "Yours truly,

                                                          "A. Lincoln."


HOW THEY SANG THE "STAR SPANGLED BANNER" WHEN LINCOLN WAS INAUGURATED

Thomas Nast

I was in Washington a few days prior to the inauguration of Lincoln in
1861, having been sent by the Harpers to take sketches when that event
should come off. I did nothing but walk around the city and feel the
public pulse, so to speak. There was no necessity of saying anything
to anybody. You intuitively recognized that trouble was brewing.
Many people had sworn that Lincoln should not be inaugurated. Their
utterances had fired the Northern heart, and the people loyal to the
old flag were just as determined that the lawfully elected President
should be inaugurated, though blood should flow in the attempt.

It was an awful time. People looked different then than they do now.
Little knots of men could be seen conversing together in whispers on
street corners, and even the whispers ceased when a person unknown
to them approached. Everybody seemed to suspect everyone else. Women
looked askance at each other, and children obliged to be out would
scurry home as if frightened, probably having been given warning by the
parents.

The streets at night, for several nights prior to the inaugural
ceremonies, were practically deserted. There was a hush over
everything. It seemed to me that the shadow of death was hovering near.
I had constantly floating before my eyes sable plumes and trappings
of woe. I could hear dirges constantly and thought for a while that I
would have to leave the place or go crazy.

I knew that all these somber thoughts were but imagination, but I
also knew that the something which had influenced my imagination was
tangible--really existed.

The 4th of March came and Mr. Lincoln was inaugurated quietly and
without ostentation. After the services were over and it became known
that Mr. Lincoln had really been inducted into office there was a
savage snarl went up from the disaffected ones.

The snarl was infectious.

It was answered by just as savage growls all over the city. But nothing
was said. A single yell of defiance, a pistol-shot, or even an oath
would have precipitated a conflict.

Men simply glared at each other and gnashed their teeth, but were
careful not to grit them so it could be heard. I went to my room in the
Willard and sat down to do some work. I couldn't work. The stillness
was oppressive.

At least a dozen times I picked up my pencils, only to throw them down
again. I got up and paced the floor nervously. I heard men on either
side of me doing the same thing. Walking didn't relieve the severe
mental strain. I sat down in my chair and pressed my head in my hands.

Suddenly I heard a window go up and someone step out on the balcony of
the Ebbit House, directly opposite. Everybody in the hotel had heard
him.

What is he going to do? I asked myself, and I suppose everyone else
propounded the same mental interrogation.

We hadn't to wait long.

He began to sing the Star-Spangled Banner in a clear, strong voice.

The effect was magical, electrical. One window went up, and another,
and heads popped out all over the neighborhood. People began to stir on
the streets. A crowd soon gathered. The grand old song was taken up and
sung by thousands.

The spell was broken, and when the song was finished tongues were
loosened, and cheer after cheer rent the air.

The man rooming next to me rapped on my door and insisted that I should
take a walk with him. As we passed along the corridors we were joined
by others, men wild with joy, some of them weeping and throwing their
arms around each other's neck.

Others were singing and all were happy.

Washington was itself again. The "Star-Spangled Banner" had saved it.


LINCOLN'S FAVORITE POEM

MORTALITY

(O WHY SHOULD THE SPIRIT OF MORTAL BE PROUD?)

 "The evening of March 22, 1864," says F. B. Carpenter, "was a most
 interesting one to me. I was with the President alone in his office
 for several hours. Busy with pen and papers when I went in, he
 presently threw them aside and commenced talking to me of Shakespeare,
 of whom he was very fond. Little Tad, his son, coming in, he sent to
 the library for a copy of the plays, and then read to me several of
 his favorite passages. Relapsing into a sadder strain, he laid the
 book aside, and leaning back in his chair said:

 "'There is a poem which has been a great favorite with me for years,
 which was first shown to me when a young man by a friend, and which
 I afterward saw and cut from a newspaper and learned by heart. I
 would,' he continued, 'give a great deal to know who wrote it,[P] but
 I have never been able to ascertain.' Then, half-closing his eyes, he
 repeated the verses to me as follows:"

[P] This poem was written by William Knox, a Scotchman.

  O why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
  Like a fast-flitting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,
  A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,
  He passes from life to his rest in the grave.

  The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,
  Be scattered around, and together be laid;
  And the young and the old, and the low and the high,
  Shall moulder to dust, and together shall lie.

  The child that a mother attended and loved,
  The mother that infant's affection that proved,
  The husband that mother and infant that blessed,
  Each, all, are away to their dwelling of rest.

  The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye,
  Shone beauty and pleasure,--her triumphs are by;
  And the memory of those that beloved her and praised
  Are alike from the minds of the living erased.

  The hand of the king that the scepter hath borne,
  The brow of the priest that the miter hath worn,
  The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,
  Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.

  The peasant whose lot was to sow and to reap,
  The herdsman who climbed with his goats to the steep,
  The beggar that wandered in search of his bread,
  Have faded away like the grass that we tread.

  The saint that enjoyed the communion of heaven,
  The sinner that dared to remain unforgiven,
  The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,
  Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.

  So the multitude goes, like the flower and the weed
  That wither away to let others succeed;
  So the multitude comes, even those we behold,
  To repeat every tale that has often been told.

  For we are the same that our fathers have been;
  We see the same sights that our fathers have seen,--
  We drink the same stream, and we feel the same sun,
  And we run the same course that our fathers have run.

  The thoughts we are thinking, our fathers would think;
  From the death we are shrinking from, they too would shrink;
  To the life we are clinging to, they too would cling;
  But it speeds from the earth like a bird on the wing.

  They loved, but their story we cannot unfold;
  They scorned, but the heart of the haughty is cold;
  They grieved, but no wail from their slumbers will come;
  They enjoyed, but the voice of their gladness is dumb.

  They died, ay! they died! and we things that are now,
  That walk on the turf that lies over their brow,
  Who make in their dwellings a transient abode,
  Meet the changes they met on their pilgrimage road.

  Yea! hope and despondence, and pleasure and pain,
  Are mingled together in sunshine and rain;
  And the smile and the tear, and the song and the dirge,
  Still follow each other, like surge upon surge.

  'Tis the wink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath,
  From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,
  From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud,--
  O why should the spirit of mortal be proud?


THE GETTYSBURG ADDRESS

 This address of Abraham Lincoln's was delivered at the dedication of
 the National Cemetery, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, November 19, 1863.
 The great battles fought at Gettysburg, in July, 1863, made that
 spot historic ground. It was early perceived that the battles were
 critical, and they are now looked upon as the turning-point of the war
 of the Union. The ground where the fiercest conflict raged was taken
 for a national cemetery, and the dedication of the place was made an
 occasion of great solemnity. The orator of the day was Edward Everett,
 who was regarded as the most finished public speaker in the country.
 Mr. Everett made a long and eloquent address, and was followed by
 the President in a short and simple speech which deeply affected its
 hearers, and later the country, as a great speech. The impression
 created on the audience has deepened with time. Mr. Stanton's
 (Secretary of War in Lincoln's Cabinet) prophecy as to the lasting
 qualities of the President's address has materialized. He said:
 "Edward Everett has made a speech that will make many columns in the
 newspapers, and Mr. Lincoln's perhaps forty or fifty lines. Everett's
 is the speech of a scholar, polished to the last possibility. It is
 elegant and it is learned; but Lincoln's speech will be read by a
 thousand men where one reads Everett's, and will be remembered as long
 as anybody's speeches are remembered who speaks the English language."

Fourscore and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this
continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the
proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in
a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so
conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great
battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that
field as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives
that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that
we should do this. But in a larger sense we cannot dedicate, we cannot
consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and
dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power
to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what
we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us,
the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which
they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for
us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us,--that
from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for
which they gave the last full measure of devotion,--that we here highly
resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain,--that this nation,
under God, shall have a new birth of freedom,--and that government of
the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the
earth.


EVENTS IN THE LIFE OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN

A LIST OF IMPORTANT FACTS CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED

  1809  February 12. Born in a log-cabin in Hardin (now
        Larue) County, Kentucky.

  1816  His father moves with his family into the wilderness
        near Gentryville, Ind.

  1818  His mother (Nancy Hanks Lincoln) dies, at the
        age of 35.

  1819  His father's second marriage, to Mrs. Sarah
        Johnston (Johnson), widow with three children.

  1828  Makes a trip to New Orleans and back, at work
        on a flat-boat.

  1830  February and March. Lincoln family remove to
        Macon (not Ma_s_on) County, Illinois; log-house,
        near Decatur, on the Sangamon River.

        Abraham of age, works independently; makes
        3,000 fence rails under contract.

  1831  May. Makes another flat-boat trip to New
        Orleans and back, on which trip he first sees
        negroes shackled together in chains, and forms his
        opinions concerning slavery.

        Begins work in a store at New Salem, Ill.

  1832  Lincoln's first political address.

        Enlists in the Black Hawk War; elected a captain
        of volunteers.

  1833  Storekeeper, Postmaster, Surveyor, at New Salem.

  1834  Elected to State Legislature.

  1835  Death of Lincoln's betrothed, Miss Ann (or
        Anne) Rutledge, at New Salem. Lincoln deeply
        grieved.

  1836  to 1842. Reëlected to the Legislature.

  1837  Studies law in Springfield and forms law partnership
        with John T. Stuart.

  1842  November 4. Marries Mary Todd.

  1846  Elected to Congress.

  1848  Declines reëlection to Congress.

  1849  Returns to Springfield to widen his law practice.
        Engages in this until 1854.

  1851  January 17. Thomas Lincoln (Abraham's father)
        dies in Coles County, Illinois.

  1854  Lincoln's family now consisted of three sons (one
        had died in his infancy); his law practice
        remunerative.

  1855  Debates with Douglas at Peoria and Springfield.

        Elected to State Legislature; resigns to seek U. S.
        Senatorship, but defeated by Douglas, is reëlected.

  1855}  Aids in organizing Republican party.
  1856}

  1858  Joint debates in Illinois with Stephen A. Douglas.

  1859  Makes political speeches in Ohio, Kansas, etc.

  1860  February. Lincoln tours New England; visits
        New York, and speaks at Cooper Institute, being
        introduced by W. C. Bryant.

        March 16-18. Chicago Republican Convention.
        Unanimously nominated for President; Hannibal
        Hamlin, Vice-President.

        November 6. Elected President over J. C.
        Breckenridge, Stephen A. Douglas, and John Bell.

  1861  March 4. Inaugurated President (the sixteenth).

        April 15. Issues first order for troops to put down
        the Rebellion.

  1862  February. President Lincoln's son Willie dies in
        the White House.

        March. The President as acting Commander-in-chief
        overrules General McClellan and Council of
        War as to immediate forward movement.

        July 2. Calls for 300,000 three-years troops.

        August 4. Calls for 300,000 men, special, nine
        months.

  1863  January 1. Issues the Emancipation Proclamation.

        July 1-4. Victories for the Union armies. Battle
        of Gettysburg, Pa.; defeat for General Lee's
        Army. Vicksburg captured by General Grant.
        Lincoln thanks Grant for the capture.

        September 17. Calls for 300,000 three-years
        troops.

        November 19. His address at Gettysburg.

  1864  February. Calls for 500,000 volunteers.

        Renominated and reëlected President.

  1865  March 4. Lincoln inaugurated, the second term.

        April 14. The President assassinated by J. Wilkes
        Booth, at Washington. He dies the next morning.

        May 4. Burial at Springfield, Ill.


       *       *       *       *       *


Transcriber Note


The illustration provided at the end of The Internet Archive was
assumed to be the cover for this volume and was moved before the
frontispiece. For those songs displayed in scores, the verses were
rejoined. All footnotes were placed as near their anchors as possible.





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