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LINCOLN DAY
EVENTS

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

UPDATED BY

JOS. C. SINDELAR

A. FLANAGAN COMPANY

CHICAGO

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Copyright, 1908

BY

A. FLANAGAN COMPANY

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PREFACE

It's especially appropriate to publish this book—really, any book about Abraham Lincoln—right now, just before the 100th anniversary of his birth. Although this small volume may seem insignificant, it will have justified its publication if it brings, even in a small way, a better understanding of the remarkable life of the beloved and martyred President Lincoln, who was inspired by God and divinely prepared for an important mission: to protect and maintain a free and united nation.

One hundred years feel like just a day! In a thousand years, people will have an even deeper connection to everything about Lincoln, as he continues to grow in the hearts of the people with each passing year. His body is gone, but his memory will live on in the hearts of the people as long as our country values freedom and liberty. He was a natural leader, with a deep and heartfelt love for his fellow humans and their well-being, which transcended rank, race, and creed, embracing all of humanity with his limitless compassion.

What a shining example this simple yet profound life offers to our young people! Born to humble parents and surrounded by poverty and hardships that we rarely see today, his rise to the highest position granted by the American people—not only a position he filled admirably but also one he honored greatly—stands as a powerful illustration of determination and ambition; ambition that was balanced with foresight and wisdom. He had an exemplary character: one that, for its unique simplicity, earnestness, kindness, truthfulness, and purity, has never been surpassed among historical figures in the world. His presence, more than anyone else in our country's history, shows that America is the land of opportunity. « 4 » In short, to us, he represents and embodies the typical American.

He missed the refinement that higher education provides, even though he didn't really need it. What wouldn't this country, with all its sharp and polished professionals, give today for another person with the rugged education, honesty, foresight, and wisdom of Abraham Lincoln? It's tough to measure the impact of such a person's life, and even harder to honor his memory properly. He had great qualities of heart and mind, along with patience, patriotism, and piety. He holds a unique place in our nation's history. Although most of us never met him, we feel the daily influence of his just and kind life, encapsulated in the two names given to him by his neighbors and those who knew him well: "Honest Old Abe" and "Father Abraham."

The content in this book, the only one of its kind published, is meant not just to entertain children but also to educate them. Most of the material is new, with a lot of it written specifically for this book by Marie Irish, Clara J. Denton, and Laura R. Smith, while some has been sourced from various places and adapted by the compiler. It is organized as closely as possible under different headings based on difficulty, with the primary material placed first.

Grateful thanks go out to all the magazines, periodicals, and books from which selections have been taken, without which this book wouldn't have been complete. Proper credit has been given wherever such material appears. A few selections have been used for which the names of the author or publisher are unknown. For these, it has been impossible to provide proper credit. In cases where unintentional infringements have occurred, sincere apologies are offered.

J.C.S.

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CONTENTS

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LINCOLN DAY ENTERTAINMENTS

READINGS, RECITATIONS, QUOTATIONS

SOME HEROES

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

Here on this first page is grand Washington,
He fought for our freedom, our respected land.

Next, we see our beloved Lincoln, so brave,
He gave freedom to every poor old slave.

And here's General Grant! Think of all the battles he fought!
He fought for all States to be united as one.

You see, all these heroes are both good and great,
And each sacrificed for their country and state.

The last is a hero—now guess who it will be!
He, too, will be great; now look and see—Me.

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Our Lincoln

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

Our Lincoln, when he was a kid,
Was very brave and truly genuine.
Today I'm just a bit brave;
In this way, I’m similar to our Lincoln as well.

Our Lincoln, when he was an adult,
Loved and respected everywhere.
I'll be the man that Lincoln was,
I need to get ready for this now.

Be like Lincoln

Clara J. Denton

WHEN I'm a grown man, a really big man,
Just like good old Abe, that's who I'll be.
I plan to follow every plan
To be as good as he is.

I'll study hard and tell the truth.
And all my teachers will pay attention;
And I will treat everyone,
Just like him, so honest and kind.

I'll strive to live in peace, because
"Fighting doesn't solve anything," he said;
And any rule from "Honest Abe"
« 11 »Is good enough for me.

I'll make the best of everything,
And never complain or moan;
That was his approach when trouble hit,
And so it will belong to me.

I'll be a man of moderation, like him.
They say—what's your opinion?—
He served some important folks at his place,
Just cold water to drink!

He didn't cloud his mind
With any kind of substances.
And I believe his way—don't you?
Is better than good enough.

I might not become a President
If I live my life like this.
But I'll be something even better:
A decent and honest man.

LINCOLN

ONLY a baby, cute and tiny,
Like many other baby boys,
Whose smiles and cries came quickly,
Who ate, slept, and grew, that’s it,—
Baby Abe Lincoln.

Just a boy like all the others,
With lots of chores and not much fun,
Loved his books, even though he had few,
Heartbroken by the death of his good mother,—
« 12 »Little Abe Lincoln.

Just a kid, awkward and shy,
Proficient with an axe or a gun,
Learning things that, eventually,
Would help him with great tasks ahead,—
Young Abe Lincoln.

Just a man of the finest kind,
An exceptional man: a son of the Nation,
Rail-splitter, Lawyer, President,
Who served his country and died fulfilled,—
The patriot, Abraham Lincoln.

Only—ah! what was the secret, then,
Is he America's honored son?
Why was he celebrated above other men,
His name on every tongue and in every pen,—
The legendary Abe Lincoln?

A brilliant mind, a strong will to endure,
Kind to everyone, yet a servant to no one,
A heart that was brave, strong, and sure,
A soul that was noble, great, and pure,
A faith in God that was steadfast,—
This is Abraham Lincoln.

THE VET'S GRANDSON

Arthur E. Parke

I'VE got the best grandpa
That ever existed, I believe;
He used to be a soldier—
He has one empty sleeve.

He tells the greatest stories to me,
Of battles he fought;
Of how he marched, and how he charged,
« 13 »And how he was shot.

My dad was a soldier, too;
He never participated in any battles,
And when I ask him, "Why?", he laughs
And he "guesses" he "was tin."

I've tried to understand what they mean,
And I think I have it correct:
My grandpa won so many, there
There were none left for Dad to fight.

—Youth's Companion.

WAS LINCOLN KING?

Ella M. Bangs

WE TALKED about kings, little Ned and I,
As we sat in the firelight;
About Alfred the Great, from long ago,
And his historical kingdom.

About Norman William, who, brave and tough,
Led his troops to victory.
Then, after a pause, "At school we learn
"Talking about another great man," said Ned.

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

"Was Lincoln a king?" I asked him then,
And while waiting for his response
A long line of noble men
Seemed to drift by in the firelight.

When "No" came slowly from little Ned,
And carefully; then, suddenly,
"He wasn't a king—outside," he said,
"But I believe he was genuine at heart."

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Let’s 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 noble, everyone.

Be as honest, as selfless;
Be pure, good, and kind;
Be truthful; don’t flatter;
Give God your heart and mind.

Seek not glory, but do your duty,
Stand up for what’s right and put in the effort for it;
Then the world will be better
Because you were involved.

LINCOLN AND THE NESTLINGS

Clara J. Denton

I'VE heard the beautiful stories
Of Lincoln, who was truly great and good.
He helped everyone in trouble,
And understood their sorrow so deeply;
He listened to many sad tales,
Of heartbroken moms and wives;
And despite all his worries,
« 15 »He once again brought hope into their lives.

Dearer than all other stories,
Is this little one about the day?
When he, with his friends, was riding
On horseback down the street;
There, in the dust by a tree, he found
One little bird, then another,
Blown from their nest by the wind,
He was looking for their mother.

When he finally found the nest, and
The baby birds were indoors,
Amid the party's cheerful laughter,
He felt happy inside, but he kept a serious expression.
"Seems to me," he said, "I couldn’t
I went to bed easily tonight.
If I had left those beings to suffer
"And hadn’t returned them to their nest."

What a wonderful heart; always tender—
Tender, yet fair, like the rest.
I believe among all the stories,
This one reveals his true nature the best.

THE BEST TRIBUTE

Sidney Dayre

MY GRANDPA was a soldier. They talk about the day
He said his final good-bye and marched away with courage,
With flags waving and bayonets shining in the sun.
They never saw him march back when the war ended.

They brought him here and laid him where I can always bring
« 16 »The brightest flowers that bloom in the spring;
But sweeter than flowers, as everyone knows,
Is the memory of the soldiers who truly loved their country.

I wish I could be like him—to try with all my strength
And serve loyally for honor and for what's right,
And for victory and glory! But kids these days, you know,
Never get the chance to fight against an enemy.

And as I think about it, the best thing we can do
To show our love and respect for a brave and true hero,
Is to promise to always be courageous,
To live our lives nobly in the land he fought to protect.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN

Susie M. Best

'MID the names that fate has written
On the endless list of fame,
We see the name of Lincoln,
Shining like a living flame.

Among the deeds the world remembers,
Acts by fearless heroes done
We recognize the deeds of Lincoln,
Blazing like a bright sun.

Among the lives whose light brightens
History's dark and grim chapter,
We acknowledge the life of Lincoln,
Shining a light on a dark time.

When the storm of danger threatened
His beloved land to conquer,
He safely steered the ship of state,
« 17 »With his hand on the wheel.

Statesman, leader, hero, martyr—
I think these names really suit him.
So let us all, as brothers,
Remember him today.

IT'S AMAZING TO LIVE SO LUXURIOUSLY[C]
Margaret E. Sangster

'Tis amazing to live so grandly
That, long after you're gone,
The things you did are remembered,
And shared in the sunlight;
To live so bravely and purely
That a nation stops in its tracks,
And once a year, with banners and drums,
Happy birthday!

It's amazing to have a legacy,
So bright and free from blemish,
That, held to the light, it shows no marks,
No matter how it's evaluated;
That age after age forever
Recounts its love story,
And your birthday lives in a nation's heart
Above all other days.

And this is our Lincoln's glory,
A loyal and genuine person,
Who stood for his country's unity,
« 18 »When his country summoned him.
And now that we are once again united,
And our flag with stars is flying.
In proud defiance,
His name is on everyone’s lips.

Yes, it's amazing to live so boldly,
To be so powerful and strong,
That your memory is always a call
To stand up against injustice;
To live so proudly and purely
That your people pause during their journey,
And year after year, with banners and drums,
Don't forget your birthday.

AT RICHMOND
Clara J. Denton

WE HAVE read the inspiring stories,
Found in the records of the past,
Of great conquerors marching,
With their powerful and fearless troops:

We see the proud king, riding
In his majestic and impressive state,
We hear the cheers, praising
His talent and expertise.

But, far more impressive is the scene
That recent history reveals:
Through the blazing streets of Richmond
Walks with Lincoln among his enemies.

Though there's no pride of position around him,
We hear everywhere:
"Thank you, Master Lincoln, bless the Lord."
« 19 »"The Savior is now here."

"O, sweet child, just touch him once!"
"Heaven must be almost here."
"I'm on the mount, oh God, I am."
"This man can now pass."

Oh, the poor uneducated people!
And still I know, to him
Before those cries of joy and love
Earth's best decorations faded.

And, I think, his heart that morning
Gave an excited beat;
For never again would his countrymen
Know the name of the slave!

LINCOLN

FROM the strong young west he came
In those aggressive times of the past,
When Freedom's call had reached the sky
And echoed from coast to coast.

He knew the world was watching him,
He heard the words of contempt,
He felt the burden of a divided State
Torn apart by brutal rebellion.

But calling on God,
He picked up his strong pen.
And with a single stroke, he broke the chains
Of a million enslaved people.

He was a fearless leader
As he walked among the troops,
And he gave his life during the conflict
To protect the cause he valued.

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THE FLAG GOES BY
Henry Holcomb Bennett

Hats off!
Down the street comes
A blast of bugles, a ripple of drums,
A burst of color under the sky;
Respect!
The flag is passing by!

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

Sea battles and land battles, tough and grand,
Fought to create and protect the nation;
Exhausting marches and sinking ships;
Cheers of victory on fading lips;

Days of abundance and years of peace;
The march of a strong nation’s rapid growth;
Equal justice, right, and law,
Majestic honor and deep respect;

Symbol of a nation, great and strong
To protect its people from foreign threats;
Pride, glory, and honor—everything
Lives in the colors that rise or fall.

Cheers!
Down the street comes
A blast of bugles, a ripple of drums;
And loyal hearts are beating high.
Kudos!
The flag is passing by!

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THE STORY OF LINCOLN
C. C. Hassler

TELL the boys the story of Lincoln,
Share it with them while they’re still young.
Talk about his fight for knowledge to prepare him,
Help him navigate adulthood with honesty and integrity.

Tell them about Lincoln; yes, share his story,
No one deserves honor more than he does;
No one took more pride in our national glory;
No one was more loyal to the flag of freedom.

Tell the boys the story of Lincoln;
Talk about his loyalty, talk about his dislike—
Not toward people, but the vile actions
That betrayed the country, the home, and the government.

Tell them; yes, tell them, his greatest ambition
Was meant to be close to the hearts of the people who loved him—
Loved him and chose him to lead the land.


Tell the boys the sorrowful story of Lincoln;
Share his struggles when traitors went against him.
And rejected the old flag; how the nation’s defenders
Gathered at his call and stood by his side;

Tell how he suffered when news of battle
Brought news of tragedy, of injured and deceased;
Share how his noble heart was often uplifted
« 22 »When our armies marched forward as proud winners.

Tell them; yes, tell them the story and inspire them
To aspire to a standard he would commend;
Loyal in life to the state and the nation,
Loyal to one nation, one flag, and one God.

OLD FLAG
Hubbard Parker

WHAT should I say to you, Old Flag?
You are so impressive in every way,
So connected to great deeds of the past,
So soaked in the blood of fallen heroes,
So torn and broken by gunfire,
So calm, so steady, so strong, so true,
My throat swells at the sight of you,
Old Flag.

What about the men who raised you, Old Flag,
Atop Bunker Hill,
Who crushed the cruel will of the British,
Amidst shock and roar and chaos,
Who crossed the frozen Delaware,
Who starved, who fought, who bled, who died,
So that you could wave in glorious pride,
Vintage Flag?

What about the brave and true women, Old Flag,
Who, while the cannons roared,
Sent off a husband, lover, child,
Who worked in the fields by day,
Who, all night long, knelt in prayer,
Believing that God granted great mercy,
If only you could wave freely,
« 23 » Old flag?

What is your mission now, Old Flag?
What but to free all people,
To rid the world of suffering,
To uphold what’s right, avenge what’s wrong,
And gather everyone in a joyful crowd
Under your folds in a close embrace
All burdened souls of every background,
Vintage Flag.

You nobly lead the way, Old Flag.
Your stars shine for liberty,
Your white stripes stand for purity,
Your red represents the high courage
To fight and die for honor's sake.
Lead on towards the foreign shore!
We’ll follow you, even to Death's door,
Old Flag!

ABRAHAM LINCOLN
R. H. Stoddard

This man, whose ordinary face you see,
Was one of Nature's truly great figures;
Born with strong arms that achieved victories without fighting,
Clear in his speech and clever with his writing,
Chosen for big plans, he had the skill
To win people over with his humor, and he aimed
Straight for his target, which was the human heart;
Wise, too, for what he could not break, he learned to bend.
On his back was a burden heavier than Atlas’,
The weight of the Commonwealth was placed upon him;
He stooped and lifted it, even when the path
Suddenly plunged downward, not in the least discouraged.
Hold, warriors, counselors, kings! All now stand aside
For this dead Benefactor of the Human Race!

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ABRAHAM LINCOLN
William Cullen Bryant

OH, slow to strike and quick to forgive,
Kind, compassionate, and fair!
Who, in the fear of God, carried
The sword of power, a nation's confidence.

In sorrow by your side we stand
In the quiet that surrounds us all,
And express the pain of a nation
That shook in disbelief at your fall.

Your work is done; the chains are gone;
We bring you to a respected grave,
Whose greatest monument will be
The broken chains of the slave.

Your life was pure; its bloody end
Has placed you among the Sons of Light,
Among the noble group of those
Who stood up for the cause of what is right.

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ABRAHAM LINCOLN Alice Cary

DEDICATED TO "PUNCH"

NO GLITTERING crown brought from distant lands!
Just like in his life, this man belongs to us even in death;
His own cherished prairies over his "gaunt, gnarled hands"
He is completely covered with summer flowers!

What need does he have for a late crown,
To protect his name from ridicule and scorn?
When every farmer turns his plow down
As softly as if it landed on his grave.

He was a man like no other the world will see
To irritate with criticism or compliments;
The landmarks that mark his bright, brief reign
It's about battles, not the lavishness of celebrations!

The greatest leader of the greatest war
That history has recognized;
What is the superficial flattery of a star
To such a heart! What value does a ribbon have?

It’s to the man, and the man's true worth,
That the country's loyalty grows stronger with tears;
Through him the labor of the soil shines forever
High above the luxurious embroidery of royalty.

The superficial acts of society—
The routines that courtiers go through,
Were foreign to him—his strong arms
I had better things to do than to show off!

Born from the people, he understood well
The needs and wants of the weak and humble;
That’s why we hold him with no empty grip—
That’s why we all know his name.

That’s why we love him with a love that’s unique
From any flattering love for family heritage—
His was the soul, mind, and heart of a true leader—
Not the superficial aspects of royalty.

So forgive us, O friends, if we are slow
To acknowledge his value—
We're protective of the very tears that fall
From eyes that have never loved a simple home.

« 26 »

YOUR FLAG AND MY FLAG

Wilbur D. Nesbit

Your Flag and my Flag,
And how it flows today
In your country and my country
And half the world away!
Rose and blood red
The stripes always reflect light;
Snow-white and pure-hearted—
The vision of our great ancestors;
Sky-blue and true-blue, with stars shining bright—
The glorious banner of the day; a shelter through the night.

Your flag and my flag!
And, oh, what it means—
Your land and my land—
Safe in its embrace!
Our hearts
Run faster when you see;
Sun-kissed and wind-blown,
Red, blue, and white.
The one Flag—the great Flag—the Flag for me and you—
Celebrating all else beside—the red and white and blue!

Your Flag and my Flag!
To every star and stripe
The drums pound like hearts pounding.
And the fifers play their tune!
Your flag and my flag—
A blessing from above;
Our hopes—
It never conceals a lie!
« 27 » Home land and distant land and half the world all around,
Old Glory hears our joyful salute and waves to the sound!

THE DEATH OF LINCOLN

Charles G. Halpin

HE CAPTURED the nation's attention and hearts,
A cherished and well-known name,
He was so much like a brother that his fame
Seemed like a shared part of our lives.

His tall figure, lean and sharp,
Was filled with such intense energy,
As if each tense muscle was burdened
The weight of a people's worries.

He belonged to his country, not to himself;
He only wanted her to be happy;
He could only think about her or have feelings for her,
But as a worker for her throne.

O, loved and lost! your patient effort
Had shrouded our cause in the light of Victory;
Our country felt refreshed and vibrant,
With not a slave on any of her land.

A martyr for the cause of humanity,
His blood is a sacred gift for freedom,
And in the world's famous list of heroes,
His name shall lead the way.

« 28 »

O Captain! My Captain!

Walt Whitman

O CAPTAIN! My Captain! Our scary journey is over,
The ship has survived every storm, the prize we were after is won,
The harbor is close, I hear the bells, the people are all celebrating,
While eager eyes follow the steady course, the vessel strong and bold;
But oh heart! heart! heart!
Oh, the bleeding drops of red,
Where my Captain lies on the deck,
Fallen cold and lifeless!

O Captain! My Captain! Wake up and hear the bells;
Get up—for you the flag is raised—for you the bugle plays,
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths—for you the shores are crowded,
For you they call, the swaying crowd, their eager faces turning;
Here, Captain! Dear Dad!
This arm under your head!
Is it some dream that on the deck
You've grown cold and lifeless.

My Captain doesn't respond, his lips are pale and still,
My father doesn’t feel my arm, he has no pulse or will,
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its journey closed and done,
« 29 » From a scary trip, the victorious ship comes in with its prize;
Celebrate, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I walk slowly,
Walk the deck where my Captain rests,
Fallen cold and lifeless.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN

Joel Benton

SOME powerful blend of genius, spirit, and heritage,
A powerful life force from long ago
Flowed into his mind and brightened his sad eyes,
And gave his name, among great names, a high status.

But these are wonders we can’t truly understand,
Nor explain why coming from a humble background
He achieved a level of greatness that no one had ever imagined or witnessed.
Or noted on the extensive scroll of history's timeline.

The tragic fate of an entire hemisphere
Fell on dark days under his final guidance,
All that the world and liberty cherished
Pressed like a nightmare on his resilient spirit.

Beloved martyr, on whom, when life was over,
Fame looked, and saw another Washington!

ON THE LIFE-MASK OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN

Richard Watson Gilder

THIS bronze captures the very shape and features
Here's the face of our great martyr. Yes, this is him:
That forehead full of wisdom and kindness;
That human, playful mouth; those cheeks that carry
« 30 » Like a harsh landscape filled with all the summer's gold;
That spirit prepared for sadness, just like the ocean.
Is prepared for storms to rage; the solitude of pain
Those quiet, patient lips predicted too well.
Yes, this is the one who led a world of men
Like an ancient prophet—
Observant of the chaos and the conflict
With deep, insightful thoughts and more than human insight.
He had a power that transcended art.
Or physical strength—his strong and powerful heart.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN

James Russell Lowell

« 31 »

SUCH was he, our Martyr-Chief,
Whom recently the Nation he had led,
With ashes on her head,
Mourned with the intensity of angry grief:
Forgive me if I shift from current matters
To express what in my heart will beat and burn,
And lay my wreath on this world-honored urn.
They say nature is foolish,
And can’t create a human
Without using an old plan,
Using us by habit:
For him, she cast aside her Old-World molds,
And, selecting pure clay from the heart
Of the unexplored West,
With untainted material, shaped a new hero,
Wise, steadfast in the strength of God, and true.
So beautiful to see
Once again a leader of humanity indeed,
Who cared for his people but never desired to lead;
One whose humble flock the people loved to be,
Not influenced by any incorrect idea of heritage,
But by his true human value,
And the courageous old wisdom of sincerity!
They realized that external charm means nothing;
They couldn't help but trust.
In that reliable mind's unwavering skill,
And flexible will
That bent like perfect steel to rise again and push.
His mind wasn't a lonely mountain peak,
Reaching into the空中 above our cloudy obstacles,
A lighthouse now, now shrouded in fog;
Instead, he was a wide-open prairie, inviting and flat.
Beneficial and welcoming for everyone,
Yet also close to heaven and cherished by the highest stars.

Please provide the text you would like me to modernize.

I don't praise him; it's too late;
And there must be some inherent weakness
In anyone who settles for victory
Such as the Present offers, and cannot wait,
Confident in himself as if in his destiny.
So he always stood strong:
He knew how to wait for his moment,
And his fame could last,
Still patient in his simple, sublime faith,
Until the right time comes.
Great leaders, with their cannons and drums,
Disrupt our judgment for a moment,
But eventually silence arrives;
These all are gone, and, standing tall like a tower,
Our children will witness his fame.
The kind, sincere, brave, and perceptive man,
Wise, patient, fearing praise, not blame,
The new birth of our land, the first American.

« 32 »

OUR ABRAHAM

OUT of the calm West came
A man whom neither praise nor blame
Could enhance or diminish; one who rose
With destined speed far
Above his friends, above his enemies;
Whose life sparkled like a bright star,
To inspire his people's hearts with passion;
Who never sought wealth or fame;
But gave himself without a cost—
A willing, humble sacrifice—
A misguided Nation's Paschal Lamb—
The great, lean, patient Abraham.

I never saw his wrinkled face,
Where tears and smiles vied for space;
I never touched his ordinary hand,
That seemed raised in blessing,
Even when it stressed command,
As the fires of battle burned,
The hand that signed the act of mercy
Which freed a wronged and tortured race;
And yet I feel that he is mine—
My country's; and that divine light
Streams from the saintly oriflamme
Of great, lean, patient Abraham.

He was our standard-bearer; he
Picked up the thread of destiny,
And around the breaking Union bound
And wove it tightly to his task.
He rose massive; nor could sound
He was intimidated by the threat. Did he ask?
For respect when glad Victory
Followed his flags from coast to coast?
No, but he healed the wounds of war;
« 33 » And you owe all you have and are—
And I owe all I have and am
To great, lean, patient Abraham.

The pillars of our temple shook
Beneath the mighty wind that struck
Foundations that the founders laid;
But he supported the roof and remained standing.
Fearless, while others were afraid;
His solid strength and faith were powerful,
While cowardly knees knocked together,
And traitor hands unlocked the door,
To let the unbeliever in.
He carried the weight of our sin,
While the rebel voices threatened to curse
The great, lean, patient Abraham.

And then he died a martyr's death—
Forgiveness in his final breath,
And peace upon his dying lips.
He died for me; he died for you;
Heaven help us if his memory fades
From our hearts! His soul was genuine.
And pure and beautiful. What does
Dull history say that counts
But coldly? That he was a man
Who loved his fellow humans as few can;
And that he hated every pretense—
Our great, lean, patient Abraham.

Majestic, sweet, was Washington;
And Jefferson was like the sun—
He elevated the simplest thing
He touched; and Andrew Jackson appears
The mark of a fiery king
To depart from us: these in dreams
Are often before us; but the one
Whose vast work was so simply done—
« 34 » The Lincoln of our war-torn years—
Has all our deepest love; in tears,
We honor the In Memoriam
Of great, lean, patient Abraham.

LINCOLN, THE MAN OF THE PEOPLE[D]

Edwin Markham

WHEN the Norn-Mother noticed the Whirlwind Hour
Growing and darkening as it rushed forward,
She left the Heaven of Heroes and came down
To create a man to meet the needs of mortals.
She took the seasoned clay of the common path—
Clay still warm with the life-giving heat of Earth,
Incorporated a hint of prophecy;
Mixed in the essence of human tears;
Then blended laughter with the serious stuff.
It was a material strong enough to face the world,
A man who could stand alongside our mountains and make
The stars pay attention and honor us.

The color of the earth was in him, the red soil;
The scent and flavor of the primal things;
The integrity and patience of the rocks;
The joy of the wind that rustles the corn;
« 35 » The bravery of the bird that challenges the sea;
The fairness of the rain that nurtures all leaves;
The compassion of the snow that covers all scars;
The warmth of the wayside well;
The acceptance and balance of light
That generously shares with the humble weed
As well as the mighty oak swaying in the wind—
To the low hill of the grave as to the Matterhorn
That pushes against the sky.

And so he arrived.
From a prairie cabin to the Capitol,
One noble Ideal guided our leader forward.
He forever yearned to accomplish his task
With the grace and poise of a king.
He built the rail-pile as he built the State,
Pouring his remarkable strength into every strike,
His conscience evaluating every move,
To make his actions the benchmark of a man.

So came the Captain with the mighty heart;
And when the Earthquake shook the house,
Tearing the rafters from their ancient hold,
He supported the ridgepole and fixed again
The rafters of the Home. He stood his ground—
Held the long vision like a growing tree—
Persevered through criticism and never flinched at praise.
And when he fell in the whirlwind, he went down
As when a regal cedar, lush with branches,
Falls with a great roar upon the hills,
Leaving a lonely spot against the sky.

« 36 »

ABRAHAM LINCOLN

Tom Taylor[E]

YOU laid a wreath on the bier of murdered Lincoln,
You, who with a mocking pencil used to sketch,
Broad for the arrogant British sneer,
His long, awkward limbs, his furrowed face,
His bony, gnarled hands, his messy, bristling hair,
His rough clothing, his uneasy stance,
His lack of all we value as charming,
Of power or will to shine, of skills to please.

You, whose sharp pen supported the pencil’s jest,
Judging each move as if the path were obvious:
Reckless, so it could highlight its paragraph
Of the leader’s confusion, or the people’s suffering.
Beside this corpse that has for a shroud
The Stars and Stripes he lived to raise anew,
Between the mourners at his head and feet,
Say, scurrilous fool, is there room for you?
Yes! He had lived to shame me from my sneer,
To cripple my pencil and disprove my pen;
To make me acknowledge this common man as noble,
This rail-splitter, a true-born king of men.
My shallow judgment I learned to regret,
Noticing how he rose to the occasion,
How his quirky wit made home truth seem more true,
How, like iron, his temperament grew with trials.

How humble, yet how hopeful, he could be:
How in both good fortune and bad he remained the same:
« 37 » Nor bitter in success, nor boastful he,
Thirsty for money, nor feverish for fame.
He went about his work—such work as few
Ever had laid on head and heart and hands—
As one who knows, where there’s a task to do,
Man's honest will must command Heaven's good grace;
Who trusts that strength will grow with the burden,
That God makes instruments to carry out His will,
If only that will we can strive to know,
Nor tamper with the scales of good and bad.
So he went forth to battle, on the side
That he clearly felt was for Liberty and Right,
As in his peasant boyhood he had fought
His battles against Nature’s harsh obstacles—
The dense forest, the unbroken soil,
The iron-bark that resists the lumberjack’s axe,
The rapid that overwhelms the boatman’s toil,
The prairie hiding the lost wanderer’s tracks,
The ambushed Native, and the lurking bear—
Such were the deeds that shaped his youth:
Rough cultivation—but such trees can bear large fruit,
If only their stocks are of the right size and type.

So he grew up with a destined purpose,
And lived to fulfill it: four long-suffering years.
Bad fate, bad feelings, bad reputation persisted,
And then he heard the hisses turn to cheers,
The taunts turn to tributes, the abuse to praise,
And accepted both with the same calm attitude:

Until, as he emerged from dark days
And seemed to reach the goal from where he stood,
A criminal hand, between the goal and him,
Reached from behind his back, pulling the trigger,
And those perplexed and patient eyes dimmed,
Those gaunt, hard-working limbs were laid to rest!
The words of mercy were on his lips,
« 38 » Forgiveness in his heart and on his pen,
When this wicked murderer brought swift darkness
To thoughts of peace on earth, good will to men.

The Old World and the New, from coast to coast,
Utter one voice of sympathy and shame.
Sore heart, which stopped when it finally beat high!
Sad life, cut short just as its triumph arrived!
A cursed act! Strikes have been dealt before
By the assassin’s hand, of which men doubt
If they bore more horror or disgrace;
But your foul crime, like Cain’s, stands out darkly,
Vile hand, that branded murder on a conflict,
Whatever its reasons, stoutly and nobly fought,
And with the martyr's crown crowned a life
With much to admire, little to be forgiven.

LINCOLN

Henry Tyrrell

LINCOLN got up! The incredible, great man,
Surrounded by rugged greatness, calming doubt and fear,—
More than a king, yet in his veins flowed
The genuine, warm blood of the people,
A mix of Puritan and Cavalier.
A will so strong that tough warriors came to seek it,
A heart that softened at a mother’s tear—
These he brought to his extraordinary challenge:
Over a tragic spirit, he wore a funny mask.

He was more the child of the South than the North!
His soul wasn’t made of rock and ice,
But like the rich soil of old Kentucky—
The amazing breed of giants that we know,
« 39 » Steadfast to friends and loyal to foes,
Such inheritances all surroundings cannot change,
Their tides of instinct flow without restraint.
This man who answered his country’s call
Had plenty of human flaws, and they made him nobler.

He is a life, not a legend, yet:
For thousands live who shook his hand,
Millions whose feelings were in line with his,
Whose hopes and sorrows mirrored his grandly,
Who deeply mourned his passing. They want
Our respect for the greatest man they knew—
They were his friends; and across our country
The years confirm them, transcending race and law:
Even the bitterness is now silenced in reverence.

THE BLUE AND THE GRAY

Francis Miles Finch

BY THE flow of the inland river,
Where the iron ships have gone,
Where the blades of the grave-grass sway,
The ranks of the dead rest in peace;
Under the soil and the dew,
Waiting for judgment day.
Under the one, the Blue;
Under the other, the Gray.

These in the robes of glory,
Those in the shadow of defeat;
All with the blood of battle,
« 40 »In the fading light of forever, we gather;
Under the soil and the dew,
Waiting for judgment day;
Under the laurel, the Blue;
Under the willow, the Gray.

From the silence of sorrowful hours,
The grieving mourners walk.
Carrying flowers with love,
For friends and enemies;
Under the soil and the dew,
Waiting for judgment day;
Under the roses, the Blue;
Under the lilies, the Gray.

So, with equal splendor,
The morning sun shines,
With a gentle touch for all,
About the flowers that are blooming for everyone;
Under the soil and the dew,
Waiting for judgment day;
Adorned with gold, the Blue;
Softened with gold, the Gray.

So, when summer calls,
In fields and forests,
With an equal murmur falls
The refreshing sound of rain;
Under the soil and the dew,
Waiting for judgment day;
Wet with the rain, the Blue;
Soaked by the rain, the Gray.

Sadly, but not with blame,
The good deed was done;
In the storm of fading years,
« 41 »No bolder battle was fought;
Under the soil and the dew,
Waiting for judgment day;
Under the blooms, the Blue;
Under the garlands, the Gray.

No more will the war cry divide,
Or the twisting rivers flow red;
They erase our anger forever,
When they put flowers on the graves of our loved ones.
Under the soil and the dew,
Waiting for judgment day;
Love and tears for the Blue,
Tears and love for the Gray.

LINCOLN: A MAN CALLED OF GOD

John Mellen Thurston

God's guidance has always brought forth a leader in times of great need for the people.

Moses, raised in Pharaoh's household, trained in the deep mysteries of Egypt's priesthood, enjoying the power and glory of royal life and favor, was so affected by the pitiful and powerless state of his enslaved people that he took on what seemed to be an impossible challenge: to free them...

A peasant girl, a shepherdess, dreaming on the hills of France, feels her simple heart ignite with the story of her country's injustices. Its army defeated, broken, and scattered; its fields destroyed; its homes looted and burned; its people brutalized and killed; its prince running for his life from a victorious and merciless enemy. Hope for France was gone. There were no heroes to save them. What could a woman do?

« 42 »

Into the soul of this shy, uneducated mountain girl there surged a wave of glorious determination. Some power, unknown to humanity, pulled back the curtain of fate and urged her to look inside. In a vision, she sees a new French army, brave, optimistic, victorious, unstoppable. A girl, sword in hand, leads the charge; before it, the invaders retreat. She sees France restored, her fields flourishing, her cottages peaceful, her people joyful, her prince crowned.

The rail-splitter from Illinois became President of the United States during the darkest time of the nation's crisis. Inexperienced and untrained in politics, he shaped national policies, overruled seasoned politicians, commanded armies, replaced generals, and, when necessary to save the Republic, disregarded the written Constitution. He surprised the politicians and upset the leaders of his party; but the people instinctively loved him and followed him without question. A child leads a blind man through dangerous areas, not because of strength and intelligence, but because of a clear vision. Abraham Lincoln guided the nation through its unclear path, for his vision was above the clouds, and he stood in the bright light of what he believed was God's will.

So the mountain stands while the dark shadows gather at its base, battered by the storm, with darkness and emptiness all around; there's no glimmer of hope in the bright flashes of lightning, nor any sense of safety in the booming thunder; but far above the highest mist, untouched by the chaos below, bathed in sunlight during the day and caressed by the stars at night, the eternal peak raises its snowy top, adorned with the everlasting calm 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 people.

"And God said—let there be light, and there was « 43 » 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 around the world.

From the moment the Union’s cause became the cause of freedom, from the moment the Republic’s flag became the flag of humanity, from the moment the stars and stripes no longer flew over a slave; yes, from the sacred moment of the nation’s rebirth, that beloved old banner has never faded from the sky, and the brave soldiers who carried it never faltered in their march toward victory....

After 25 years of peace and prosperity, all the children of our shared country kneel at the altar of a united faith. The Blue and Gray lie in eternal rest side by side. Heroes all, they fell facing each other, brother against brother, to atone for a nation’s sin. The lonely homes and unknown graves, the memories of loved ones, the longing for the lost, the deserted altars and shattered hopes are beyond recall. Our feeble protests beat in vain against the unyielding doors of fate. Yet through the shared tears that fall equally on the honored dead from both sides, the North and South look toward a hopeful future of prosperity and strength, possible only under the shelter of the beloved old flag. To both the victors and the vanquished, to both white and black, to both master and slave, Abraham Lincoln was God’s providence.

JONATHAN TO JOHN

James Russell Lowell

« 44 »

IIT DOESN'T seem quite right, John,
When both my hands were busy,
To challenge me to a fight, John—
Your cousin, too, John Bull!
Old Uncle S. says, "I guess
"We know it now," he says,
"The lion's paw is all the law,
According to J.B.,
"That's perfect for you and me!"

You wonder why we're upset, John?
Your mark was on the guns,
The neutral guns that shot, John,
Our brothers and sons:
Old Uncle S. says, "I think
"There's human blood," he says,
"By fits and starts, in Yankee hearts,
Though it might surprise J. B.
"More than it would for you and me."

If I let mad dogs loose, John,
On your living room stairs,
Would it really meet your approval, John,
Should we wait and take legal action against their heirs?
Old Uncle S. says, "I think,
"I can only guess," he says,
"That if Vattel fell on his toes,
It would sort of annoy J. B.,
Just like you and me!

Who made the law that hurts, John,
Heads I win, tails too?
"J. B." was on his shirts, John,
Unless I misremember.
Old Uncle S. says, "I think
"I'm good at that," he says.
"That sauce for the goose isn't just the juice
For guys with J. B.,
« 45 »"Not any more than you or me!"

When your rights were our wrongs, John,
You didn't hesitate at all,—
Britanny's trident prongs, John,
Were good enough laws for us.
Old Uncle S. says, "I guess,
"Though physics is good," he says,
"It doesn't follow that he can swallow
Prescriptions signed 'J. B.,'
"Put up by you and me!"

We own the ocean too, John:
Don't take it personally,
If we can't think like you, John,
It's just your backyard.
Old Uncle S. says, "I think,
"If that's his claim," he says,
"The fencing stuff will cost enough
To break up with friend J. B.,
Just like you and me!

Why talk so dreadfully big, John,
Of honor when it mattered
You didn't care a bit, John,
But just for ten percent?
Old Uncle S. says, "I suppose
"He's just like the others," he says.
"When all is done, it's number one
That's closest to J.B.,
"Just like you and me!"

We gave the critters back, John,
Because Abram believed it was the right thing to do;
It wasn't your bullying talk, John,
Inciting us to fight.
Old Uncle S. says, "I guess
"We've got a tough road ahead," he says,
"To hoe right now; but that somehow,
May happen to J.B.,
« 46 »"Just like you and me!"

We aren't so weak and poor, John,
With 20 million people,
And close to every door, John,
A school and a steeple.
Old Uncle S. said, "I think
"It’s a fact," he says,
"The surest way to make a Man
Is, think of him that way, J. B.,
"As much as you and I!"

Our folks believe in Law, John;
And now it's for her benefit,
They've left the axe and saw, John,
The anvil and the plow.
Old Uncle S. says, "I think,
"If it weren't for the law," he says,
"There'd be one mess from here to Indy;
And that doesn't work for J. B.
(When it's not between you and me!)

We know we've got a cause, John,
That's honest, fair, and real;
We thought it would win applause, John,
If not from anywhere else, from you.
Old Uncle S. says, "I think
"His love for what is right," he says,
"Hangs by a rotten fiber of cotton:
There's nature in J.B.,
Just like you and me!

The South says, "Poor folks down!" John,
And "All men up!" we say,—
White, yellow, black, and brown, John:
What's your idea?
"Old Uncle S. says, 'I guess,
"John preaches well," he says;
"But, sermon through, and come to do,
Look, there's the old J. B.
« 47 »"Us crowding together!"

Shall it be love, or hate, John,
It's up to you to decide;
Aren't your bonds held by Fate, John,
Like everyone else's life?
Old Uncle S. says, "I think
"Wise men forgive," he says,
"But not forget; and some time yet
That truth might hit J. B.,
Just like you and me!

God means to make this land, John,
Clear from coast to coast,
Believe and understand, John,
The value of being free.
Old Uncle S. says, "I guess, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__,"
"The cost of following God is steep," he says.
"But nothing else than what He sells
Wears long, and that J. B.
"Maybe they'll learn, just like you and me!"

NO SLAVE BENEATH THE FLAG

George Lansing Taylor

NO SLAVE under that starry flag,
The symbol of freedom!
No chained hand will wield the brand
That fights for freedom:
No march of servile armies
Will shame Columbia's coast,
For anyone who fights for freedom's rights
Is free forever!

Understood. Please provide the text you'd like me to modernize.

Go tell the brave from every land,
Wherever that flag has waved—
The tyrant's fear, the patriot's cheer,
« 48 »In every area and zone—
That now no longer forever
Its stripes are marks of slavery;
No tears stain its blue field
Nor dull its golden stars.

No slave under that grand old flag!
Let it soar forever,
With lightning in every fold,
And flashing victory!
God's blessings surround it!
And when all conflict has ended,
May freedom's light, that knows no night,
Make every star a sun!

TRIBUTES TO LINCOLN

—Paul Laurence Dunbar, 1899

From humble beginnings and poverty, nature raised him,
And the world saw her most capable, noblest man;
He had few joys, but faced many and terrible challenges,
Yet he confronted them grandly, as only truly great souls can!
Our Nation's Martyr, pure, honest, patient, and compassionate—
You who suffered agony even for the enslaved—
Our flag's defender, our brave, immortal teacher!
I place this humble tribute on your honored grave.

—Paul DeVere, 1899

« 49 »

We find peace where these sorrowful eyes
Saw danger, struggle, and suffering;
His was the country's sacrifice,
And ours the priceless reward.

—John G. Whittier

—Isaac N. Arnold

—W. H. Herndon

—H. E. VonHolst

—Robert G. Ingersoll

—Castelar

—Luther Laflin Mills

May those who fought honorably for the South
Come together to stand and sing by Lincoln's grave?

Sure, please provide the text you would like modernized.

He represented the North, the South, the East, the West,
The servant, the master, all of us wrapped in one;
No region did he favor over the rest;
His love shone as unbiased as the sun;
And so revenge could not sway him,
He smiled at it, as if it were something lost,
Gently setting it aside, he rose and stood
For a moment in grief,
Thinking of the prairies and the corn
And the joyful sounds of the field and woods.

—Maurice Thompson, 1893

« 51 »

—James G. Blaine

—Jos. C. Sindelar

—Luther Laflin Mills

—Charles Sumner

—Bishop Matthew Simpson

—James A. Garfield

« 52 »

—W. D. Howells

—Alexander H. Stephens

—Henry W. Grady

—General W. T. Sherman

—Alexander H. Stephens

Oh, truthful. face, which everyone knew!
Oh tender heart, but known to few!

—R. H. Stoddard

Who can be what he was to the people,
What was he to the State?
Will the future provide us with another
As good as great?

—Phoebe Cary

—Lyman Abbott

« 53 »

—James A. Garfield

—Ulysses S. Grant

—Walt Whitman

—R. W. Emerson

—Prof. David Swing

Rev. Phillips Brooks

Quotes from Lincoln

WITH no hatred for anyone, with kindness for everyone, with determination to do what is right as God shows us, let’s keep working to complete our task; to heal the nation's wounds; to support those who have fought in battle, along with their families; to do everything we can to create and maintain a fair and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.

I've got one vote, and I will always cast it against what's wrong for as long as I live.

In all event of life, it's doing the right thing that gives you strength.

The deep connections of memory, reaching from every battlefield and grave of heroes, to every living heart and home across this vast land, will once again strengthen the chorus of the Union, when they are inevitably stirred, as they surely will be, by the best parts of our nature.

Let us believe that doing what is right gives us strength, and with that belief, let us bravely fulfill our responsibilities as we see them.

« 55 »

Gold is valuable in its own right, but loving, courageous, and patriotic people are worth more than gold.

God must appreciate ordinary people, or he wouldn't have created so many of them.

The reasonable person has long recognized that excessive indulgence is one of the biggest, if not the biggest, evils among humanity.

The purposes of the Almighty are flawless and will succeed, even though we, as imperfect humans, might struggle to foresee them accurately.

No guys alive today are more deserving of trust than those who work hard to rise out of poverty.

Of the people, when they come together in great numbers for the Union and the freedoms of their nation, it can truly be said: 'The gates of hell cannot stand against them.'

No one is good enough to rule over another person without that person's consent.

Don't let someone who is homeless destroy another person's house, but let them work hard to build one for themselves.

You can trick everyone some of the time, and some people all of the time, but you can't trick everyone all of the time.

Improved to give your way to the dog—even killing the dog wouldn't fix the bite.

The way for a young man to succeed is to better himself in every possible way, never thinking that anyone is holding him back.

« 56 »

I said "try," because if we don’t try, we won’t succeed.

The person who starts a movement isn't usually the best one to see it through to a successful conclusion.

Have confidence in yourself, a valuable and essential quality.

Let’s not judge others so we won’t be judged ourselves.

When you have an elephant nearby, and he wants to escape, it's best to let him go.

It's best not to change horses in the middle of a stream.

This country, with its institutions, belongs to the people who live here.

A country can be defined by its land, its people, and its laws.

When you can't move an obstacle, work your way around it!

God bless my mother! Everything I am or hope to become, I owe to her.

I'm in. not think highly of a man who is not wiser today than he was yesterday.

Doubt and jealousy never helped anyone in any situation.

« 57 »

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

CHARACTERS

SCENE I—Before the War

Six Sailor Guys come in from the right, Six Soldier Boys enter from the left. They march ahead in two lines, holding flags, stop and sing. Cross the flags or wave them while singing the last four lines.

« 58 »

Sailor and Soldier Boys

Tune: COLUMBIA, THE GEM OF THE OCEAN

The flag of our nation is what we're bringing,
The banner is for you and me;
As we sing the songs of dear Lincoln,
We stand under the Red, White, and Blue,
Oh flag of a united nation,
We adore your vibrant colors and your stars,
We march beneath the beautiful bright banner,
This amazing land of freedom belongs to us.
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!

Look, the beautiful bright banners are flying,
We wave them high in the air,
The Red, White, and Blue is now shining,
Loved by everyone everywhere.
Oh, may the banner keep waving,
Supported by devoted soldiers and sailors;
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.

(Guys walk forward and back, Troops in a single line side by side, Sailors in another, following. Lines move right and left, Seafarers from one side of the stage, Troops from the other, passing each other several times at the center of the stage. Stop at the center of the stage, the two lines facing each other, tighten ranks at the back and spread out at the front, forming an open triangle, like this [Greek: lambda].)

« 59 »

Soldiers

We're the guys of the land!
We'll always stay loyal
To the flag of the Union,
The Red, White, and Blue.

Sailors:

We're the guys of the ocean!
Wherever we go
The Red, White, and Blue
Will face any challenge.

All (waving flags):

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

All (singing, waving flags during chorus):

Hooray for the flag! __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

There are many flags in many countries,
There are flags in every color,
But there is no flag, no matter how impressive,
Just like our own Red, White, and Blue.

Chorus: So let's cheer for the flag! Our country's flag,
With its stripes and white stars;
There's no flag in any country
Just like our own Red, White, and Blue!

(Enter Messaging app from the back, walks between the two lines to the front. Guys line up in a semicircle behind him.)

« 60 »

Messaging App:

What threatens the Union
In our land?
A new flag appears,
With Stars and Stripes.
"Together we stand,
"Together we stand, divided we fall."
Who can save us now?
Who should we ask?

First Soldier:

From Lincoln I have come today
Our Lincoln!
He will assume his rightful position alongside justice,
Our Lincoln!
With courage on his noble face,
He will protect the Union now,
We all salute; we bow to him,
Our Lincoln!

(All salute the flag.)

Messenger

From Lincoln I have come today
Looking for volunteers!
Other messengers are on their way
Request for Volunteers.
Shall we see our flag lowered?
No, we'll go meet the Southerners,
Marching while the bugles sound
Call for Volunteers!

All

The moment has arrived for conflict and war,
Sound the horns!
The soldier boys are called again,
« 61 » Sound the trumpets!

Spread your message far and wide,
Echo throughout the countryside,
We are the Nation's hope and pride,
Sound the trumpets!

(Exit All, when the bugle sounds.)

SCENE II—The War

Several boys with drums march in front of tents that have been set up on the stage. They sing, gently tapping their drums during the chorus, and march around the tents.

Tune: MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA

Marching to the battlefield,
We set out with our sword and drum;
Marching to the battlefield,
Oh, check out the army approaching.
Rat-a-tat, a-rat-a-tat, The drum beats so loudly, While we sing about Lincoln.

Chorus: Hooray! Hooray! Who's ready to volunteer? Hooray! Hooray! What do we have to fear? Join in the chorus, everyone, the army is moving forward, While we sing about Lincoln.

Marching on to victory,
Oh, listen to the drums softly playing,
Marching on to victory,
Now watch the troops move.
Wave the beautiful stars and stripes, Up high for everyone to see, While we sing about Lincoln.

Chorus: Hooray! hooray! etc.

« 62 »

(Drummers head to their tents. Enter Soldier Guys, holding guns. They are led by a Captain, who issues commands for the following drill:)

Boys march in groups of 2, 4, or 6 and line up for drills.

Drill

Salute! With the gun in your right hand, resting on your shoulder, raise your left hand to your forehead.

Present, arms! Hold the gun in front with your right hand, and grip it with your left hand.

Order, arms! The large end of the gun is on the floor, the gun is held in the right hand, and the left hand is at the side.

Shoulders, arms! Guns on right shoulder.

Port, arms! Hold the gun in the center with your right hand, positioning it diagonally across your chest.

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

Extend your left arm! Do the same with your right arm extended, and so on.

Aim! Rest the gun on your shoulder, holding it up with both hands.

About, face! Turn around.

Forward, march! Move around the tents while the tune of TRAMP, TRAMP, TRAMP, THE BOYS ARE MARCHING plays softly in the background. Retreat to or behind the tents.

(A guard, Scott, steps out to watch over the area, paces back and forth multiple times, and eventually leans against one of the tents and falls asleep. He is found by the Captain, who enters the scene.)

« 63 »

Captain (steps forward):

Wow! The guard is asleep!
What if the enemy attacks?
Sneaking quietly over the hill
Not even the sound of a drum?
They'd catch our camp by surprise.
Sleeping guard, wake up! Wake up!

(Scott wakes up and salutes Captain.)

Captain:

For this crime, you will stand trial,
It was definitely a regrettable mistake.
Who will watch over the camp tonight,
What if there’s no one awake to keep watch?

Soldiers (step forward):

It's tiring to stay awake,
Oh no! oh no! he fell asleep!
Oh no! oh no! he fell asleep!

(Scott is taken away by troops to face a court-martial.)

Veteran (enters):

Scott is a handsome soldier:
He's honest, brave, and genuine;
He still deserves to wear
The Red, White, and Blue.
Oh no! oh no! he will return home,
Facing a death sentence soon,
Loved by all his comrades, now
They walk by with their heads down.

(Re-enter All, singing one verse of Right before the battle, mom.)

« 64 »

Captain (to Scott):

There is only one person who can save you now;
He grew up in a modest home,
He is our respected President,
And his name is Lincoln!
So to our respected President,
We will go and ask for forgiveness,
We will march if there’s hope
No more hanging our heads.

(Log Out All.)

(Boys, in makeup as Black characters enter. They sing the following song and pretend to play the banjo while singing the chorus.)

THE SUNNY SOUTHLAND[G]

Way down in the sunny South,
There's a little black boy, you know,
His mom sings a lullaby,
To the melody of the old banjo.

Chorus: Plunkety-plunk, plunkety-plunk,
We're heading down to the cotton field.
Plunkety-plunk, plunkety-plunk,
Plunk, plunk, banjo.

Way down in the sunny South,
Where the sky is clear and blue,
The black boy on the banjo strings
Enjoys playing the same song for you.

« 65 »Chorus: Plunkety-plunk, etc.

Way down in the sunny South
You will hear this lovely lullaby,
The little black boy must go to sleep,
The Sandman is on his way.

Chorus: Plunkety-plunk, etc.

Troops (return, shouting):

Hurrah! Scott is pardoned.

(They repeat the last four lines of their first song and walk away.)

SCENE III—Post-War

Lincoln's picture is set up on a ladder or easel, with the children reciting while they place flags and flower garlands around it.

RECITATION BY THREE BOYS WITH THREE FLAGS

First Boy

The flag that represents free men,
The flag of sword and drum,
It's the most beautiful banner in the entire world,
The flag of victories.

Second Boy:

The flag that represents Gettysburg,
Backed by loyal guys
In the chaos of battle,
Will fly for us again.

Third Guy

The flag that flies over Lincoln now,
Symbolizes freedom for the enslaved;
So the beautiful stars and stripes wave
Over many a soldier's grave.

« 66 »

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 lie side by side.

A Girl (walks on stage and speaks):

Our Hero

Today the flags are waving,
For a hero we admire;
We all sing about Lincoln,
While the flag waves proudly above.
Bring out the beautiful banners,
Flags featuring vibrant stripes and stars,
Lincoln was our nation's hero,
And the win is ours.

Another Girl (comes in and recites):

OUR LINCOLN

Crown him with wreaths of evergreen,
Our Lincoln car.
Bring the prettiest flowers ever seen,
For Lincoln.
Crown him today with fragrant blooms,
The war is over, the victory is ours,
Above all men this great man stands tall,
Our Lincoln.

Crown him with kind words of love,
Our Lincoln car;
And hang the banners high above
For Lincoln.
Raise high the flag of freedom,
For the one who freed the slaves,
Shout his praises from sea to sea,
Our Lincoln car.

« 67 »

(Kids holding flags and flowers, wearing shields on their chests, each displaying one letter to spell "Lincoln," enter. The cards with the letters are hung around their necks, blank side facing the audience as they come in. After reciting their lines and setting down their flowers and flags, each child turns their letter to face the audience. They stand in line, and when they finish reciting, they place the flowers and flags around Lincoln's portrait.)

L:
We all mention Lincoln's name,
And bring him our lovely flowers.

I:
In peace or war, he's a source of national pride,
We put our banners next to him.

N:
Today, there’s no North or South,
We bring our holiday wreaths.

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

O:
We need one nation and one flag.
Place flowers at the spot where our hero lies.

L:
Lincoln, we love to share
We pay tribute as we sing about you.

N:
He no longer hears the sound of the bugle.
We scatter flowers everywhere.

All (return, gather, and sing):

LINCOLN DEAR[H]

Wave the beautiful banners high,
« 68 »Oh Lincoln, dear!
A crowd of children passing by,
O Lincoln, my dear,
Will sing to you their sweetest song,
As they proudly march along,
For the honors belong to you,
Oh Lincoln, dear.

Chorus: Wave the flags high,
The Red, the White, the Blue;
Wave the flags high,
We're loyal to Lincoln, too.
Oh, wave the beautiful banners,
Look how proudly they move,
We wave the Red, the White, the Blue,
For Lincoln, my dear, today.

Lovely flags will crown you now,
Oh Lincoln, my dear,
We place them near your noble brow,
Oh Lincoln, my dear,
And more beautiful than any monument,
The love from our young hearts is sent,
You were our honored President,
Oh Lincoln, my dear.

Chorus: Wave the flags, etc.

A Flag Exercise

L.F. Armitage

FOR EIGHT LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYS, EACH HOLDING A FLAG

First Kid:

What flag is this?

Second:

This is our country's flag,
« 69 » This flag is stunning.
It belongs to my dad
And now it’s mine as well.

Third

What are its colors?

Fourth

White stars in a blue field,
Red and white stripes.
Look at our "Red, White and Blue"
Flying overhead (waving flags).

Fifth

What do these colors signify?

Sixth:

White means, Always be pure!
Red means, Be brave!
Blue means, Always be true!
Long may it wave.

Seventh:

Why are the flags flying today?

Eighth:

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

« 70 »

All (sing):

Tune: AULD LANG SYNE

We wave the flag, the beautiful flag
Of red, white, and blue.
This flag that flies over land and sea,
We will be loyal to it.
Then hail the flag, this beautiful flag,
We'll cheer it nine times;
God bless the land that has this flag,
The land of liberty.

—Elementary Education

THE WOODEN FIRE-SHOVEL

Clara J. Denton

A CONVERSATION FOR THREE GIRLS AND TWO BOYS

CHARACTERS

Mrs. Lincoln, the mother of the family
Mr. Lincoln, the father of the family
Sarah, Mrs. Lincoln's step-daughter and Abe's sister

COSTUMES

Mrs. Lincoln: Dark calico dress, very simply made, wide gingham apron, hair parted in the middle, combed straight back from the face, and styled in a bun at the back. Make this character taller than the other girls, if possible.

Lincoln: Blue overalls and a shirt. This character should be taller than the other boys.

Sarah: A short, simple calico dress; hair styled in two long braids, tied together with dark thread.

John Johnston: Blue overalls and a shirt, worn-out fur cap.

Matilda Johnson: Her gown is similar to Sarah's but a different color, and her hair is styled like Sarah's too.

« 71 »

SCENE

Mrs. Lincoln and Sarah are found; the former, sitting in the rocking chair, is fixing a pair of torn overalls, which she occasionally holds up and spreads out as if checking for holes while she talks. Sarah, at the back of the stage, is sweeping energetically.

Mrs. Lincoln: Oh my, Sarah! You really kick up a storm of dust (coughs); you're going to suffocate me!

Sarah (sweeping more gently): Excuse me, but you see, the dirt is all here, and I think 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, oh, Abe.

Mrs. Lincoln: It's so odd that I can't get John to stop standing and shouting like that. I've been trying ever since he was a baby to teach him to go to anyone he wants.

Sarah: I guess 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 really easy to pick up and really hard to break. I don’t have any trouble teaching all those things to Abe. Goodness, he's such a well-behaved, obedient boy; I honestly don't think he’ll make it to adulthood (sighs).

Sarah: Oh, yes he will, mom; he’s way too full of mischief to die; plus, he’s the strongest kid his age around here. He picked Matilda and me up yesterday and carried us all the way to the woods. We kicked and screamed (laughs) and squirmed, « 72 » but wow! we’re like a couple of dolls to him. He set us down at the edge of the woods, then took off running. We started running too, but he was in the barn and all the way at the top of the stacked corn-stalks in the mow before we even made it halfway back to the house (laughs). Don’t worry about him dying, mom.

Voice (again): Abe, Abe, Oh, Abe.

Mrs. Lincoln: What am I supposed to do with that boy?

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

Mrs. Lincoln: But I'm tired of listening to him.

Sarah: Should I go make him quiet? (Laughs and gestures.)

John (enters from the right): Where's Abe, Mom? I've been calling for him nonstop. (Sits in the chair at the front right.)

Sarah: Yeah, we thought we heard something.

Mrs. Lincoln: Take off your hat, my son. I really wish you didn't need to be reminded of that so often.

John (takes off hat): But I want Abe.

Mrs. Lincoln: Why?

John: To help me bring in the firewood. There's a big storm coming.

Mrs. Lincoln: Well, he’s not here.

John: He's not here? What do you mean? I didn't see him leave.

Mrs. Lincoln: No, he left while you were off in the woods with your dad's lunch. Today is his birthday, so I let him walk to Gentryville to get me some thread. You all wear out your clothes so quickly that it takes a lot of thread to keep you from turning into a bunch of rags.

John (sulkily): Do I have to get that wood by myself?

« 73 »

Ms. Lincoln: That won't hurt you. Don't you remember the other day when you had a toothache? Abe brought in all the firewood and didn't let you lift a finger?

Matilda (enters at left from behind cupboard): Hurry up, John, and bring in some wood; the fire is getting low. Aren't you feeling cold, Mom?

Mrs. Lincoln: Yes, it’s getting chilly here. Go on, John, be a good boy. I’m sure Abe will handle everything by tomorrow night.

Sarah: Yeah, or when he’s rich and famous maybe he’ll let you move in with him. Mom is so convinced he’s going to be a big deal.

John (standing up): Oh, well, Abe's fine, I don't care.

Mrs. Lincoln: Yes, you kids like to laugh at the things I say about Abe, but I know any boy—or girl for that matter—who's so eager to learn is bound to achieve something one day. Just wait and see.

Mr. Lincoln (enters at right): What’s that, Mom? What do you think we’ll see if we wait? Looks like we might have to hang around for a long time if we’re expecting to see anything exciting out here.