PART III.
Programmes for Special Occasions
CONTAINING
Charming Exercises for Fourth-of-July Celebrations; Washington’s Birthday;
Christmas and Thanksgiving; Decoration Day; Public School
Exhibitions; Arbor Day; Harvest Homes; Evening
Entertainments, Etc., Etc.
INCLUDING A CHOICE COLLECTION OF
DIALOGUES, TABLEAUX, SUBJECTS FOR DEBATE, ETC.
PROGRAMME NO. 1 FOR FOURTH OF JULY.
The following programme can be varied as occasion may require by
additional exercises or by substituting others for those here suggested.
The platform should be decorated with flags and patriotic emblems. In
addition to the singing of patriotic airs, there should be music by a
band or orchestra. Each of the children should be furnished with a small
flag. Let all the exercises be very spirited.
MUSIC—By the Band or Orchestra.
SINGING—Tune: “America.”
My country, ’tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrim’s pride,
From every mountain-side
Let freedom ring.
My native country, thee—
Land of the noble free—
Thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills,
My heart with rapture thrills
Like that above.
Let music swell the breeze
And ring from all the trees
Sweet freedom’s song;
Let mortal tongues awake;
Let all that breathe partake;
Let rocks their silence break—
The sound prolong.
Our fathers’ God, to Thee,
Author of liberty,
To Thee we sing;
Long may our land be bright
With Freedom’s holy light;
Protect us by Thy might,
Great God, our King.
READING—The Declaration of Independence.
RECITATION—The Fourth of July.
To the sages who spoke, to the heroes who bled,
To the day and the deed, strike the harp-strings of glory!
Let the song of the ransomed remember the dead,
And the tongue of the eloquent hallow the story,
O’er the bones of the bold
Be that story long told,
And on fame’s golden tablets their triumphs enrolled
Who on freedom’s green hills freedom’s banner unfurled,
And the beacon-fire raised that gave light to the world!
They are gone—mighty men!—and they sleep in their fame:
Shall we ever forget them? Oh, never! no, never!
Let our sons learn from us to embalm each great name,
And the anthem send down—“Independence forever!”
Wake, wake, heart and tongue!
Keep the theme ever young;
Let their deeds through the long line of ages be sung
Who on freedom’s green hills freedom’s banner unfurled,
And the beacon-fire raised that gave light to the world!
MUSIC—By Band or Orchestra.
READING—The Vow of Washington.
The sword was sheathed: in April’s sun
Lay green the fields by freedom won;
And severed sections, weary of debates,
Joined hands at last and were United States.
O city, sitting by the sea!
How proud the day that dawned on thee,
When the new era, long desired, began,
And, in its need, the hour had found the man!
One thought the cannon salvos spoke;
The resonant bell-tower’s vibrant stroke,
The voiceful streets, the plaudit-echoing halls,
And prayer and hymn borne heavenward from St. Paul’s!
How felt the land in every part
The strong throb of a nation’s heart,
As its great leader gave, with reverent awe,
His pledge to union, liberty and law!
That pledge the heavens above him heard,
That vow the sleep of centuries stirred;
In world-wide wonder listening peoples bent
Their gaze on freedom’s great experiment.
Could it succeed? Of honor sold
And hopes deceived all history told.
Above the wrecks that strewed the mournful past
Was the long dream of ages true at last?
Thank God! the people’s choice was just,
The one man equal to his trust,
Wise beyond lore, and without weakness good,
Calm in the strength of flawless rectitude!
His rule of justice, order, peace,
Made possible the world’s release;
Taught prince and serf that power is but a trust,
And rule, alone, which serves the ruled, is just;
That freedom generous is, but strong
In hate of fraud and selfish wrong,
Pretense that turns her holy truths to lies,
And lawless license masking in her guise.
Land of his love! with one glad voice
Let thy great sisterhood rejoice;
A century’s suns o’er thee have risen and set,
And, God be praised, we are one nation yet.
And still, we trust, the years to be
Shall prove his hope was destiny,
Leaving our flag with all its added stars
Unrent by faction and unstained by wars!
Lo! where with patient toil he nursed
And trained the new-set plant at first,
The widening branches of a stately tree
Stretched from the sunrise to the sunset sea.
And in its broad and sheltering shade,
Sitting with none to make afraid,
Were we now silent, through each mighty limb,
The winds of heaven would sing the praise of him.
Our first and best—his ashes lie
Beneath his own Virginian sky.
Forgive, forget, O true and just and brave,
The storm that swept above thy sacred grave!
For, ever in the awful strife
And dark hours of the nation’s life,
Through the fierce tumult pierced his warning word,
Their father’s voice his erring children heard!
The change for which he prayed and sought
In that sharp agony was wrought;
No partial interest draws its alien line
’Twixt North and South, the cypress and the pine!
One people now, all doubt beyond,
His name shall be our Union-bond;
We lift our hands to heaven, and here, and now,
Take on our lips the old Centennial vow.
For rule and trust must needs be ours;
Chooser and chosen both our powers
Equaled in service as in rights; the claim
Of duty rests on each and all the same.
Then let the sovereign millions, where
Our banner floats in sun and air,
From the warm palm-lands to Alaska’s cold,
Repeat with us the pledge a century old!
DECLAMATION—The Little Mayflower.
And now—for the fulness of time is
come—let us go up, in imagination
to yonder hill, and look out upon
the November scene. That single
dark speck, just discernible through the perspective
glass, on the waste of waters, is the
fated vessel. The storm moans through her
tattered canvas, as she creeps, almost sinking,
to her anchorage in Provincetown harbor;
and there she lies, with all her treasures, not
of silver and gold (for of these she has none),
but of courage, of patience, of zeal, of high
spiritual daring.
So often as I dwell in imagination on this
scene; when I consider the condition of the
Mayflower, utterly incapable, as she was, of
living through another gale; when I survey
the terrible front presented by our coast to
the navigator who, unacquainted with its
channels and roadsteads, should approach
it in the stormy season, I dare not call
it a mere piece of good fortune, that the
general north and south wall of the shore
of New England should be broken by this
extraordinary projection of the cape, running
out into the ocean a hundred miles,
as if on purpose to receive and encircle the
precious vessel.
As I now see her, freighted with the destinies
of a continent, barely escaped from
the perils of the deep, approaching the shore
precisely where the broad sweep of this
most remarkable headland presents almost
the only point at which, for hundreds of
miles, she could, with any ease, have made
a harbor, and this, perhaps, the very best on
the seaboard, I feel my spirit raised above
the sphere of mere natural agencies.
I see the mountains of New England rising
from their rocky thrones. They rush forward
into the ocean, settling down as they
advance; and there they range themselves,
as a mighty bulwark around the heaven-directed
vessel. Yes, the everlasting God
himself stretches out the arm of his mercy
and his power, in substantial manifestation,
and gathers the meek company of his worshipers
as in the hollow of his hand.
Edward Everett.
MARCH—Our Naval Cadets.
(Twelve or more boys dressed in naval costume
and carrying flags.)
SINGING—TUNE: Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean.
O, land of a million brave soldiers,
Who severed the bonds of despair;
O, land of a million true-hearted
Who failed not to do and to dare!
May ever thy shores gleam before us,
With harvests whose wealth shall not cease,
May ever in beauty bend o’er us,
The wings of the white dove of peace.
Hail the glory of Freedom’s glad light!
Hail the passing of Slavery’s night!
Hail the triumph of Truth over Error!
Hail the glory of Freedom’s glad light!
Though hushed is the voice of the cannon
Though silent the loud battle cry,
There’s many to-day, who if needful,
For Freedom would suffer and die.
Columbia’s sons still are loyal,
Columbia’s sons still are true,
’Neath the emblem of Justice and Mercy
The banner of red, white and blue.
RECITATION—To the Ladies.
(To be prefaced with the following statement: “In
the year 1768, the people of Boston resolved that
they would not import any tea, glass, paper, or other
commodities commonly brought from Great Britain,
until the act imposing duties upon all such articles
should be repealed. This poetical appeal to the ladies
of the country, to lend a ‘helping hand’ for the
furtherance of that resolution, appeared in the Boston
News Letter, anonymously.”)
Young ladies in town, and those that live round,
Let a friend at this season advise you;
Since money’s so scarce, and times growing worse,
Strange things may soon hap and surprise you.
First, then, throw aside your topknots of pride;
Wear none but your own country linen;
Of economy boast, let your pride be the most
To show clothes of your own make and spinning.
What if homespun they say is not quite so gay
As brocades, yet be not in a passion,
For when once it is known this is much worn in town,
One and all will cry out—’Tis the fashion!
And, as one, all agree, that you’ll not married be
To such as will wear London factory,
But at first sight refuse, tell ’em such you will choose
As encourage our own manufactory.
No more ribbons wear, nor in rich silks appear;
Love your country much better than fine things;
Begin without passion, ’twill soon be the fashion
To grace your smooth locks with a twine string.
Throw aside your Bohea, and your Green Hyson tea,
And all things with a new-fashion duty;
Procure a good store of the choice Labrador,
For there’ll soon be enough here to suit you.
These do without fear, and to all you’ll appear
Fair, charming, true, lovely and clever;
Though the times remain darkish, young men may be sparkish,
And love you much stronger than ever.
Then make yourselves easy, for no one will teaze ye,
Nor tax you, if chancing to sneer
At the sense-ridden tools, who think us all fools;
But they’ll find the reverse far and near.
MUSIC—By Band or Orchestra.
TABLEAU—Conquered and Conqueror.
(A soldier dressed as a British redcoat is lying
down, resting on one elbow and holding up his hand
to ward off his foe. A soldier dressed in Continental
uniform stands over him, pointing a bayonet at his
breast.)
MUSIC—By Band or Orchestra.
PROGRAMME NO. 2, FOR FOURTH OF JULY.
MUSIC—By Band or Orchestra.
SINGING—TUNE: America.
God bless our native land!
Firm may she ever stand
Through storm and night;
When the wild tempests rave,
Ruler of winds and wave!
Do thou our country save
By thy great might.
For her our prayers shall rise
To God above the skies,
On him we wait;
Thou who art ever nigh,
Guardian with watchful eye!
To thee alone we cry,
God save the State.
Our fathers’ God! to thee,
Author of liberty,
To thee we sing;
Long may our land be bright
With freedom’s holy light;
Protect us by thy might,
Great God, our King!
READING—Declaration of Independence.
RECITATION—Our Natal Day.
Oh, the Fourth of July!
When fire-crackers fly,
And urchins in petticoats tyrants defy!
When all the still air
Creeps away in despair,
And clamor is king, be the day dark or fair!
When freedom’s red flowers
Fall in star-spangled showers,
And liberty capers for twenty-four hours.
When the morn’s ushered in
By a sleep-crushing din,
That tempts us to use philological sin;
When the forenoon advances
With large circumstances,
Subjecting our lives to debatable chances;
When the soldiers of peace
Their attractions increase,
By marching, protected with clubs of police;
When the little toy gun
Has its share of the fun,
By teaching short-hand to the favorite son.
Oh, the Fourth of July!
When grand souls hover nigh!
When Washington bends from the honest blue sky!
When Jefferson stands—
Famous scribe of all lands—
The charter of heaven in his glorified hands!
When his comrade—strong, high,
John Adams—comes nigh,
(For both went to their rest the same Fourth of July!)
When Franklin—grand, droll—
That could lightnings control,
Comes here with his sturdy, progressive old soul;
When freedom’s strong staff—
Hancock—with a laugh,
Writes in memory’s album his huge autograph!
But let thought have its way,
And give memory sway;
Do we think of the cost of this glorified day?
While the harvest-field waves,
Do we think of those braves
In the farms thickly planted with thousands of graves?
How the great flag up there,
Clean and pure as the air,
Has been drabbled with blood-drops, and trailed in despair?
Do we know what a land
God hath placed in our hand,
To be made into star-gems, or crushed into sand?
Let us feel that our race,
Doomed to no second place,
Must glitter with triumph, or die in disgrace!
That millions unborn,
At night, noon, and morn,
Will thank us with blessings, or curse us with scorn,
For raising more high
Freedom’s flag to the sky,
Or losing forever the Fourth of July!
SINGING—Tune: “Hold the Fort.”
Oh, behold in all its beauty,
Freedom’s flag unfurled!
Glorious flag—to us the fairest
In the wide, wide world.
Proudly float, O flag of Freedom,
Fair Columbia’s pride!
For thy stars and stripes of beauty,
Many a hero died.
Great the price of Freedom’s purchase—
’Twas the price of life;
Oh, the pain and loss and sorrow
Ere the end of strife.
Ever mindful of the struggle,
Let us all be true
To the colors of our nation—
Red, and white and blue.
RECITATION—The Banner of the Sea.
By wind and wave the sailor brave has fared
To shores of every sea;
But never yet have seamen met or dared
Grim death for victory
In braver mood than they who died
On drifting decks, in Apia’s tide,
While cheering every sailor’s pride,
The banner of the free!
Columbia’s men were they who then went down,
Not knights nor kings of old,
But brighter far their laurels are than crown
Or coronet of gold;
Our sailor true, of any crew,
Would give the last long breath he drew
To cheer the old red, white and blue,
The banner of the bold!
With hearts of oak, through storm and smoke and flame,
Columbia’s seamen long
Have bravely fought and nobly wrought, that shame
Might never dull their song;
They sing the country of the free,
The glory of the rolling sea,
The starry flag of liberty,
The banner of the strong!
We ask but this, and not amiss the claim,
A fleet to ride the wave,
A navy great to crown the State with fame,
Though foes or tempests rave;
Then, as our fathers did of yore,
We’ll sail our ships to every shore,
On every ocean wind will soar
The banner of the brave!
Oh! this we claim, that never shame may ride
On any wave with thee,
Thou Ship of State, whose timbers great abide
The home of liberty!
For, so, our gallant Yankee tars,
Of daring deeds and honored scars,
Will make the banner of the stars
The banner of the sea.
MUSIC—Cornet Solo.
ORATION—What America has Done for the World.
What has this nation done to repay
the world for the benefits we have
received from others? We have
been repeatedly told, and sometimes, too,
in a tone of affected impartiality, that the
highest praise which can fairly be given
to the American mind, is that of possessing
an enlightened selfishness; that if the philosophy
and talents of this country, with all
their effects, were forever swept into oblivion,
the loss would be felt only by ourselves; and
that if to the accuracy of this general charge,
the labors of Franklin present an illustrious,
it is still but a solitary, exception.
The answer may be given, confidently and
triumphantly. Without abandoning the fame
of our eminent men, whom Europe has been
slow and reluctant to honor, we would reply,
that the intellectual power of this people has
exerted itself in conformity to the general
system of our institutions and manners; and
therefore, that, for the proof of its existence
and the measure of its force, we must look
not so much to the works of prominent individuals,
as to the great aggregate results;
and if Europe has hitherto been wilfully
blind to the value of our example and the
exploits of our sagacity, courage, invention,
and freedom, the blame must rest with her,
and not with America.
Is it nothing for the universal good of
mankind to have carried into successful operation
a system of self-government, uniting
personal liberty, freedom of opinion, and
equality of rights, with national power and
dignity; such as had before existed only in
the Utopian dreams of philosophers? Is it
nothing, in moral science, to have anticipated
in sober reality, numerous plans of reform
in civil and criminal jurisprudence, which
are, but now, received as plausible theories
by the politicians and economists of Europe?
Is it nothing to have been able to call forth
on every emergency, either in war or peace,
a body of talented patriots always equal to
the difficulty?
Is it nothing to have, in less than a half-century,
exceedingly improved the sciences
of political economy, of law, and of medicine,
with all their auxiliary branches; to have
enriched human knowledge by the accumulation
of a great mass of useful facts and
observations, and to have augmented the
power and the comforts of civilized man, by
miracles of mechanical invention? Is it
nothing to have given the world examples of
disinterested patriotism, of political wisdom,
of public virtue; of learning, eloquence,
and valor, never exerted save for some
praiseworthy end? It is sufficient to have
briefly suggested these considerations; every
mind would anticipate me in filling up the
details.
No—Land of Liberty! thy children have
no cause to blush for thee. What though the
arts have reared few monuments among us,
and scarce a trace of the muse’s footstep is
found in the paths of our forests, or along
the banks of our rivers; yet our soil has
been consecrated by the blood of heroes, and
by great and holy deeds of peace. Its wide
extent has become one vast temple and hallowed
asylum, sanctified by the prayers and
blessings of the persecuted of every sect, and
the wretched of all nations.
Land of Refuge—Land of Benedictions!
Those prayers still arise, and they still are
heard: “May peace be within thy walls, and
plenteousness within thy palaces!” “May
there be no decay, no leading into captivity,
and no complaining in thy streets!” “May
truth flourish out of the earth, and righteousness
look down from Heaven!”
Gulian C. Verplanck.
MARCH—Daughters of the Revolution.
(Twelve or more little girls, dressed in Continental
costume and carrying flags. They should be drilled
to perform a march.)
RECITATION—Stand up for Liberty.
Ye sons of Columbia, who bravely have fought
For those rights which unstained from your sires had descended.
May you long taste the blessings your valor has brought,
And your sons reap the soil which your fathers defended.
Let our patriots destroy anarch’s pestilent worm,
Lest our liberty’s growth should be checked by corrosion;
Then let clouds thicken round us: we heed not the storm;
Our realm feels no shock but the earth’s own explosion.
Foes assail us in vain,
Though their fleets bridge the main;
For our altars and laws with our lives we’ll maintain;
For ne’er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.
Should the tempest of war overshadow our land,
Its bolts could ne’er rend freedom’s temple asunder;
For, unmoved, at its portal would Washington stand,
And repulse, with his breast, the assaults of the thunder!
His sword from the sleep
Of its scabbard would leap,
And conduct, with its point, every flash to the deep!
For ne’er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.
Let fame to the world sound America’s voice;
No intrigues can her sons from their government sever;
Her pride are her statesmen—their laws are her choice,
And shall flourish till liberty slumbers forever.
Then unite heart and hand,
Like Leonidas’ band,
And swear to the God of the ocean and land
That ne’er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant or the sea rolls its waves.
MUSIC—By Band or Orchestra.
RECITATION—Off with Your Hat as the Flag Goes By.
Off with your hat as the flag goes by!
And let the heart have its say;
You’re man enough for a tear in your eye
That you will not wipe away.
You’re man enough for a thrill that goes
To your very finger tips—
Ay! The lump just then in your throat that rose
Spoke more than your parted lips.
Lift up the boy on your shoulder high,
And show him the faded shred—
Those stripes would be red as the sunset sky
If death could have dyed them red.
The man that bore it, with death has lain
These thirty years or more—
He died that the work should not be vain
Of the men who bore it before.
The man that bears it is bent and old,
And ragged his beard and gray;
But see his proud form grow young and bold,
At the tune that he hears them play.
The old tune thunders through all the air,
And strikes right into the heart;
If it ever calls for you, boy, be there!
Be there and ready to start!
Off with your hat as the flag goes by!
Uncover the youngster’s head!
Teach him to hold it holy and high,
For the sake of its sacred dead.
RECITATION—The Young American.
Scion of a mighty stock!
Hands of iron—hearts of oak—
Follow with unflinching tread
Where the noble fathers led.
Craft and subtle treachery,
Gallant youth! are not for thee;
Follow thou in word and deeds
Where the God within thee leads!
Honesty with steady eye,
Truth and pure simplicity,
Love that gently winneth hearts—
These shall be thy only arts:
Prudent in the council train,
Dauntless on the battle-plain,
Ready at the country’s need
For her glorious cause to bleed!
Where the dews of night distill
Upon Vernon’s holy hill;
Where above it, gleaming far,
Freedom lights her guiding star:
Thither turn the steady eye,
Flashing with a purpose high;
Thither, with devotion meet,
Often turn the pilgrim feet!
Let the noble motto be,
God—the country—liberty!
Planted on religion’s rock,
Thou shalt stand in every shock.
TABLEAU—Surrender of Cornwallis.
(American and British soldiers in the background.
Washington in front and Cornwallis handing him
his sword.)
MUSIC—By Band or Orchestra.
PROGRAMME FOR A CHRISTMAS ENTERTAINMENT.
(A Christmas tree always pleases young people, and what interests them is
sure to be appreciated by older persons. In the absence of a Christmas
tree, loaded with decorations and gifts, the room should be trimmed with
evergreens; in fact, such decorations are always in order at the merry
Christmas time.)
SONG—Christmas Bells, Tune: “Ring the Bells of Heaven.”
Ring, O bells, in gladness,
Tell of joy to-day;
Ring and swing o’er all the world so wide.
Banish thoughts of sadness,
Drive all grief away,
For it is the Merry Christmas tide.
Ring, O bells, from spire and swelling dome,
Ring and bid the peaceful ages come;
Banish thoughts of sadness,
Drive all grief away,
For it is the Merry Christmas Day.
Ring, O bells, the story
From the ages far;
Of the Christmas joy and song and light;
How the wondrous glory
Of the Christmas star
Led the shepherds onward through the night!
Ring, O bells, in gladness
Of the Saviour King;
May your silver chimings never cease;
Banish thoughts of sadness
And all nations bring
Glorious dawning of the Day of Peace.
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES—To be Selected.
RECITATION—A Letter to Santa Claus.
Blessed old Santa Claus! king of delights!
What are you doing these long winter nights?
Filling your budgets with trinkets and toys—
Wonderful gifts for the girls and the boys?
While you are planning for everything nice,
Pray let me give you a bit of advice.
Don’t take it hard, if I say in your ear,
Santa, I think you were partial last year;
Loading the rich folks with everything gay,
Snubbing the poor ones who came in your way:
Now, of all times in the year, I am sure
This is the time to remember the poor.
Little red hands that are aching with cold,
You should have mittens your fingers to hold;
Poor little feet, with your frost-bitten toes,
You should be clothed in the warmest of hose.
On the dark hearth I would kindle a light,
Till the sad faces were happy and bright.
Don’t you think, Santa, if all your life through,
Some one had always been caring for you,
Watching to guard you by night and by day,
Giving you gifts you could never repay,
Sometimes, at least, you would sigh to recall
How many children have nothing at all?
Safe in your own quiet chamber at night,
Cozy and warm in your blankets so white,
Wouldn’t you think of the shivering forms
Out in the cold and the wind and the storms?
Wouldn’t you think of the babies who cry,
Pining in hunger and cold till they die?
Blessed old Nick! I was sure, if you knew it,
You would remember, and certainly do it;
This year, at least, when you open your pack,
Pray give a portion to all who may lack;
Then if you chance to have anything over,
Bring a small gift to your friend—Kitty Clover.
RECITATION—Christmas in all the Lands
(For four children. They recite singly and then
in concert, beginning with the words in the last
verse, “Lo, want and sin,” etc.)
From the wild Northland where the wolf’s long howl
Stirs the depths of down in the ocean fowl,
And the white bear prowls with stealthy creep
To the spot where the seal lies fast asleep,
And the sledges flash through the silence vast
Like a glittering dream, now here, now past,—
On this waste of sparkle and waste of snow
’Neath skies aflame with a crimson glow;
The feet of the Christ-child softly fall,
And Christmas dawn brings cheer to all.
’Tis the homestead low in the quiet vale
Where the farm-dog follows Dobbin’s trail
To the pasture lot, now cold and bare,
And sniffs with glee the snow-filled air.
In this home of busy household joys,
’Mong the rosy girls and sturdy boys,
Sweet peace descends on wings of light,
And all exclaim, “’Tis Christmas night,
The dear Christ-child is hovering near
Let each one share our Christmas cheer.”
’Tis the prairies vast where cyclones sweep,
And their sturdy men world-harvests reap,
Where the skies are such an airy blue
An angel’s robe might flutter through;
And the lark flings down her music sweet
A chain of song, each link complete;
Then a white day comes, so bland or wild,
It bears in arms the sweet Christ-child,
And hearts touch heart and hands touch hand,
While Christmas light illumes the land.
’Tis the land of palms and of orange trees,
Whose lamps of gold swing in the breeze,
Where the pickaninny’s black eyes glow,
O’er swarthy cheeks and teeth of snow,
And the dusky hand is raised to bless
The gift that makes his misery less;
For rich and poor and young and old
Stand in the charmed ring of gold
Which Christmas brings. Lo, want and sin
Flee from the blessed eyes of Him,
The dear Christ child, who far and near
Gives Christmas love and Christmas cheer.
MUSIC—Cornet Solo, or Choir.
READING—Santa Claus on the Train.
