PROGRAMME FOR WASHINGTON’S BIRTHDAY.
MUSIC—“The Star-Spangled Banner.”
RECITATION—Washington Enigma.
To be given by ten little girls with evergreen or large printed letters hung around their necks by a black thread and adjusted to the proper height. Let the letter be turned as the child speaks.
First Child—W—
In the wailing winds my first
Speaks in faintly murmuring tones.
Second Child—A—
While my second’s cry will burst
In the martyr’s latest groans.—
Third Child—S—
How the noisome serpents scare.
In them finds my third a place.
Fourth Child—H—
In the homes which mothers share,
Rules my fourth with gentle grace.
Fifth Child—I—
Watch the Indian’s scalping knife,
And my fifth shall greet your sight.
Sixth Child—N—
But my sixth is brought to life
In the moonless ebon night.
Seventh Child—G—
See the gambler’s greed and note
How my seventh rules supreme.
Eighth Child—T—
The latest presidential vote
Holds secure my eighth, I deem.
Ninth Child—O—
From our sorrow, from our woe,
None can drive my ninth away.
Tenth Child—N—
Mark the wailing infant—lo!
There my tenth holds fullest sway.
All in Concert.
Join from first to tenth each part,
And you’ll find a noble name,
Written on each patriot’s heart,
Glorious in our country’s fame.
RECITATION—Washington’s Day.
For a little boy.
Oh! how the world remembers!
It is many and many a day
Since the patriot, George Washington,
Grew old and passed away.
And yet to-day we are keeping
In memory of his birth,
And his deeds of truth and valor
Are told at every hearth.
How he fought for independence
All little schoolboys know;
And why he signed the declaration
So many years ago.
To be as great as Washington
I could not if I would;
But I’ve made up my mind that I
Will try to be as good.
RECITATION—A Little Boy’s Hatchet Story.
When the great and good George Washington
Was a little boy like me,
He took his little hatchet
And chopped down a cherry tree.
And when his papa called him,
He then began to cry,
“I did it, oh, I did it;
I cannot tell a lie!”
His papa didn’t scold at all,
But said, “You noble youth,
I’d gladly lose ten cherry trees
To have you tell the truth!”
But I myself am not quite clear;
For if I took my hatchet
And chopped my papa’s cherry tree,
Oh, wouldn’t I just catch it!
READING—Maxims of Washington.
Adopted by him at the age of fifteen.
“Neither laugh, nor speak, nor listen when older people are talking together.”
“Say not anything that will hurt another, either in fun or in earnest.”
“If you say anything funny, don’t laugh at it yourself, but let others enjoy it.”
“When another person speaks, listen yourself, and try not to disturb others.”
“Obey and honor your father and mother.”
“Every action in company ought to be with some sign of respect to those present.”
“When you meet with one of greater quality than yourself, stop and retire, especially if it be at a door or any strait place, to give way for him to pass.”
“Speak not evil of the absent, for it is unjust.”
“Show not yourself glad at the misfortune of another, though he were your enemy.”
“Be not curious to know the affairs of others; neither approach to those that speak in private.”
“Undertake not what you cannot perform, but be careful to keep your promises.”
“Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire called conscience.”
SINGING—Tune: “My Country.”
Once more we celebrate
Birthday of him so great,
So true and brave;
Who struggled not in vain
Liberty to attain,
Breaking a tyrant’s chain
His land to save.
Bravely the patriot band
Fought ’neath his sure command
And freedom won;
Honor those soldiers all,
Who did for freedom fall,
Who followed at the call
Of Washington.
While shines in heaven the sun,
The name of Washington
Shall glow with light;
He feared no tyrant grand,
But foremost in command,
Did like a mountain stand
For cause of right.
Alice Jean Cleator.
ORATION—The Father of his Country.
The birthday of the “Father of his Country!” May it ever be freshly remembered by American hearts! May it ever re-awaken in them a filial veneration for his memory; ever rekindle the fires of patriotic regard to the country he loved so well; to which he gave his youthful vigor and his youthful energy, during the perilous period of the early Indian warfare; to which he devoted his life, in the maturity of his powers, in the field; to which again he offered the counsels of his wisdom and his experience, as President of the Convention that framed our Constitution; which he guided and directed while in the Chair of State, and for which the last prayer of his earthly supplication was offered up, when it came the moment for him so well, and so grandly, and I so calmly, to die. He was the first man of the time in which he grew. His memory is I first and most sacred in our love; and ever hereafter, till the last drop of blood shall freeze in the last American heart, his name shall be a spell of power and might.
Yes, there is one personal, one vast felicity, which no man can share with him. It was the daily beauty and towering and matchless glory of his life, which enabled him to create his country, and, at the same time, secure an undying love and regard from the whole American people. “The first in the hearts of his countrymen!” Yes, first! He has our first and most fervent love. Undoubtedly there were brave and wise and good men, before his day, in every colony. But the American Nation, as a Nation, I do not reckon to have begun before 1774. And the first love of that young America was Washington. The first word she lisped was his name. Her earliest breath spoke it. It still is her proud ejaculation; and it will be the last gasp of her expiring life!
Yes, others of our great men have been appreciated—many admired by all. But him we love. Him we all love. About and around him we call up no dissentient and discordant and dissatisfied elements—no sectional prejudice nor bias,—no party, no creed, no dogma of politics. None of these shall assail him. Yes, when the storm of battle blows darkest and rages highest, the memory of Washington shall nerve every American arm, and cheer every American heart. It shall relume that Promethean fire, that sublime flame of patriotism, that devoted love of country, which his words have commended, which his example has consecrated. Well did Lord Byron write:
“Where may the wearied eye repose
When gazing on the great,
Where neither guilty glory glows,
Nor despicable state?—
Yes—one—the first, the last, the best,
The Cincinnatus of the West,
Whom Envy dared not hate,
Bequeathed the name of Washington,
To make man blush, there was but one.”
RECITATION—February Twenty-second.
In seventeen hundred thirty-two,
This very month and day,
Winking and blinking at the light,
A little baby lay.
No doubt they thought the little man
A goodly child enough;
But time has proved that he was made
Of most uncommon stuff.
The little babe became a man
That everybody knew
Would finish well what he began,
And prove both firm and true.
So when the Revolution came,
That made our nation free,
They couldn’t find a better man
For general, you see.
As general, he never failed
Or faltered; so they though
He ought to be the President,
And so I’m sure he ought.
And then he did his part so well
As President—’twas plain
They couldn’t do a better thing
Than choose him yet again.
Through all his life they loved him well
And mourned him when he died;
And ever since his noble name
Has been our nation’s pride.
The lesson of his life is clear,
And easy quite to guess,
Be firm and true, if you would make
Your life a grand success.
Joy Allison.
SONG—A True Soldier. Tune: “Hold the Fort.”
Though we never may be soldiers
On the battle field,
Though we may not carry banner,
Bayonet or shield;
Each can be as true and valiant
Till life’s work is done,
Each can be as brave a soldier
As George Washington.
There are mighty hosts of evil,
Armies great and strong,
Each can be a little soldier
Fighting all day long.
Let us ever fight them bravely,
Let us valiant be;
Fight the host of falsehood, envy,
Pride and cruelty.
Oh, how valiant are the soldiers
Who to battle go,
Yet more brave are they who struggle
With an unseen foe.
When the battles all are ended
And the victory’s won,
Each will be as true a soldier
As George Washington.
Alice Jean Cleator.
RECITAL—Washington’s Life.
(Recitation for five boys; each holds in his right hand a card with date, lifting it during his recitation.)
1732.
In seventeen hundred and thirty-two
George Washington was born;
Truth, goodness, skill, and glory high,
His whole life did adorn.
1775.
In seventeen hundred and seventy-five
The chief command he took
Of all the army in the State
Who ne’er his flag forsook.
1783.
In seventeen hundred and eighty-three,
Retired to private life;
He saw his much-loved country free
From battle and from strife.
1789.
In seventeen hundred and eighty-nine,
The country with one voice,
Proclaimed him president, to shine,
Blessed by the people’s choice.
1799.
In seventeen hundred and ninety-nine,
The nation’s tears were shed,
To see the patriot life resign,
And sleep among the dead.
ALL IN CONCERT.
As “first in war, first in peace,”
As patriot, father, friend—
He will be blessed till time shall cease,
And earthly life shall end.
SINGING—Birthday of Washington.
(May be sung to “America.”)
First Pupil:
Welcome, thou festal morn,
Never be passed in scorn
Thy rising sun.
Thou day forever bright
With Freedom’s holy light,
That gave the world the sight
Of Washington.
Second Pupil:
Unshaken ’mid the storm,
Behold that noble form—
That peerless one,
With his protecting hand,
Like Freedom’s angel, stand,
The guardian of our land,
Our Washington.
Third Pupil:
Traced there in lines of light,
Where all pure rays unite,
Obscured by none;
Brightest on history’s page,
Of any clime or age,
As chieftain, man or sage,
Stands Washington.
Fourth Pupil:
Name at which tyrants pale,
And their proud legions quail,
Their boasting done;
While Freedom lifts her head,
No longer filled with dread,
Her sons to victory led
By Washington.
Class in Concert:
Now the true patriot see,
The foremost of the free,
The victory won.
In Freedom’s presence bow,
While sweetly smiling now
She wreathes the spotless brow
Of Washington.
Then, with each coming year,
Whenever shall appear
That natal sun,
Will we attest the worth
Of one true man to earth
And celebrate the birth
Of Washington.
George Howland.
MARCH.—Boys and Girls Carrying Flags.
