Chapter VI: Act II (2)

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.