Then Winnie recited.—See page 25.
But the crowning performance of the day, in the opinion of all the girls and boys, was a little drama, written expressly for the occasion, entitled, "Revolutionary Days." The characters represented were an elderly lady, two young girls, two little children, a negro servant girl, an elderly gentleman, a Tory, and two young men, Continental soldiers.
While the platform was being cleared and prepared, the girls and boys who took part were having what they called "fine fun" in the dressing-room, getting their hair powdered, caps and wigs adjusted, and so on.
When the curtain rose, Miriam was discovered, dressed as an elderly lady of the eighteenth century, sitting in an old-fashioned chair beside a spinning-wheel, and singing a song of Revolutionary days. As she ceased singing, two little children, borrowed from the primary class in the "Colony," came in, begging their grandmother to tell them something about George Washington. She tells them that she is busy, but they persist, and then tell her that they know some verses about him, and each recites, alternately, a verse of four lines, descriptive of Washington's childhood and school days, and, as seems inevitable, winding up with the story of the hatchet.
As they finish, a negro servant girl rushes in, in which burnt-cork heroine it would be utterly impossible to discover the maiden of the pickles and of the ardent desire to enjoy herself while young, had she not been seen in the dressing-room "making up" for the occasion. She informs Mrs. Grey that the cat or something has pulled all the yarn off the reel, and of its consequent fearful state of entanglement. Mrs. Grey rouses herself from her reverie, and asks the children if they know anything about it. Each accusingly points to the other, whereupon their grandmother looks at them sternly, when they say they "can't tell a lie," that they did it with—
They are interrupted by Mrs. Grey, who tells Dinah to take them away and put them to bed without their supper. They begin to howl, and reproachfully tell their grandmother that she ought to say, "Come to my arms, my precious children;" whereupon an audacious small boy in the audience—a visitor, it is needless to say—shouts, "Chestnut!" and Mrs. Grey's face hardens into a look of positive inflexibility, as if this were the last straw, and the children, howling and struggling, are carried away by Dinah.
Quiet being thus restored, Mrs. Grey paces up and down, indulging in a long soliloquy. She speaks of the long years of war, and the hope deferred which maketh the heart sick. She regretfully recalls the bonnie little island, with its green fields and blooming gardens, which had been forsaken for these scenes of hardship. Then, however, she remembers the days of oppression there, and bursts into a thanksgiving that they had at last found a spot where they could worship God in peace according to the dictates of their own conscience. Then she thinks of the Declaration of Independence, and tries to remember the resolution of Richard Henry Lee. Seeing the girls come in, she says that they will remember.
The two girls, Winnie and Fannie, attired in short-waisted dresses, big poke bonnets, and immense outside pockets, are asked by Mrs. Grey to recall the resolution which has for the moment slipped from her recollection. One of them (Fannie), in answer, declaims the resolution, and as she comments, in rather excited tones, "Glorious, mother, isn't it?" Mr. Cranston, the Tory gentleman, enters. This was one of the boys of the class, resplendent in hempen wig, frilled shirt front, and the veritable "brass-buttoned coat, with long blue flaps," knee breeches, and silver-buckled slippers. He tauntingly informs them that they will find it "too glorious, when the rebellion is crushed, and they are all sentenced to be executed as rebels."
Whereupon he and the colonial young ladies enter into a heated argument, with taunts on one side about the minute-men of Massachusetts and the battles of Lexington and Concord, and retaliations from the Tory about the battle of Long Island and the miseries at Valley Forge. They retort with the news of the treaty of alliance with France, and he replies by reminding them of the loss of their ports in the north.
He is interrupted by the entrance of the children, who tell the group that every one in the village is shouting "Hurrah!" that the bell in the church is ringing, and that the big flag is waving over the roof. While the patriots are exclaiming that "there must be good news," two young men enter, carrying guns. All spring up in surprise, and the children dance and caper about, with shouts of "Uncle Mark! Uncle John!"