“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.
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.
RECITAL—Washington’s Life.
(Recitation for five boys; each holds in his right
hand a card with date, lifting it during his recitation.)
In seventeen hundred and thirty-two
George Washington was born;
Truth, goodness, skill, and glory high,
His whole life did adorn.
In seventeen hundred and seventy-five
The chief command he took
Of all the army in the State
Who ne’er his flag forsook.
In seventeen hundred and eighty-three,
Retired to private life;
He saw his much-loved country free
From battle and from strife.
In seventeen hundred and eighty-nine,
The country with one voice,
Proclaimed him president, to shine,
Blessed by the people’s choice.
In seventeen hundred and ninety-nine,
The nation’s tears were shed,
To see the patriot life resign,
And sleep among the dead.
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.”)
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
MARCH.—Boys and Girls Carrying Flags.
PROGRAMME FOR ARBOR DAY.
The celebration of Arbor Day has become so common that there is a demand
for a programme of public exercises for schools and academies. The
following can be varied by omitting pieces or substituting others. Little
flags on palm-leaf fans tacked on well, also tufts of pine, and wreaths
of flowers, bouquets, etc., might aid in decoration. Let the pupils take
an active part in preparation.
SONG. Tune: “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.”
We have come with joyful greeting,
Songs of gladness, voices gay,
Teachers, friends, and happy children,
All to welcome Arbor Day.
Here we plant the trees whose branches,
Warmed by breath of summer days,
Nourished by the dews and showers,
Soon shall wave in leafy sprays.
Let us plant throughout our borders,
O’er our lands so far and wide,
Treasures from the leafy forest,
Vale, and hill, and mountain side;
Rooted deep, oh let them flourish,
Sturdy giants may they be!
Emblems of the cause we cherish—
Education broad and free.
Gentle winds will murmur softly,
Zephyrs float on noiseless wing;
’Mid their bows shall thrush and robin,
Build their nests and sweetly sing.
’Neath their shady arms will childhood
Weary of the noontide heat,
In its cool inviting shadow,
Find a pleasant, safe retreat.
READING.
Proclamation of State Governor or of School Commissioner.
DECLAMATION.
Arbor Day is an anniversary that
looks forward with bright hope.
The trees which we plant to-day,
will grow into groves and forests of the future,
and in their silent beauty and voiceless
green will honor the hands that so tenderly
planted them. Beneath them the youth yet
to be may meet in social banquet, and enjoy
the fruitage of our labors.
“We are what wind and sun and water make us,
The mountains are our sponsors, and the rills
Fashion and win their nurslings with their smiles.”
This is not a holiday; but a day especially
set apart for the purpose of tree-planting, of
observing more closely and studying more
carefully the trees, flowers and gifts of the
forest; also of cultivating a greater reverence
and finer sense of the beautiful and sublime.
What object can better inspire us to gain
victory over trials than the grand old oak
which in bold defiance to its foes while reeling
in the wrath of the tempest is sending
down to deeper hold its gnarled roots only
to be better able to triumph in the next
storm? Our poets have used their purest
thought, their sweetest music in praise of
the forest and the flowers. Arbor Day provides
gracious means of a closer acquaintance
with “God’s first temples,” and we hope that
this day’s effort may result in much good.
QUOTATIONS.
(Pupils stand by desks and after naming authors
recite the quotations.)
1st Pupil.—Whittier said:
“Give fools their gold, and knaves their power;
Let fortune’s bubbles rise and fall;
Who sows a field or trains a flower,
Or plants a tree, is more than all.”
2nd Pupil.—Ben Johnson wrote:
“Not merely growing like a tree
In bulk doth make man better be,
Or standing long an oak three hundred years,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald and sear.
A lily of a day is fairer far in May;
Although it fall and die that night,
It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see,
And in short measure life may perfect be.”
“In fact there’s nothing that keeps its youth,
So far as I know, but a tree and truth.”
“To me the world’s an open book
Of sweet and pleasant poetry;
I read it in the running book
That sings its way toward the sea.
It whispers in the leaves of trees,
The swelling grain, the waving grass,
And in the cool, fresh evening breeze,
That crisps the wavelets as they pass.
“The flowers below, the stars above,
In all their bloom and brightness given,
Are, like the attributes of love,
The poetry of earth and heaven;
Thus, nature’s volume, read aright,
Attunes the soul to minstrelsy,
Tingeing life’s cloud with rosy light
And all the world with poetry.”
5th Pupil.—Longfellow said:
“If thou art worn and heart beset
With sorrows that thou wouldst forget,
If thou wouldst read a lesson that will keep
Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep,
Go to the woods and hills! No tears
Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.”
6th Pupil.—Bryan Waller Proctor wrote:
“Methinks I love all common things,
The common air, the common flower,
The dear, kind, common thought that springs
From hearts that have no other dower,
No other wealth, no other power,
Save love; and will not that repay
For all else fortune tears away?
“What good are fancies rare, that rack
With painful thought the poet’s brain?
Alas! they cannot bear us back
Unto happy years again!
But the white rose without a stain
Bringeth times and thoughts of flowers,
When youth was bounteous as the hours.”
“He who plants a tree
Plants a hope.
Rootlets up through fibres blindly grope;
Leaves unfold into horizons free,
So man’s life must climb
From the clods of time
Unto heavens sublime.”
RECITATION—What do we Plant when we Plant a Tree?
What do we plant when we plant the tree
We plant the ships that will cross the sea
We plant the mast to carry the sails,
We plant the plank to withstand the gales,
The keel, the keelson, the beam and knee,
We plant the ship when we plant the tree.
What do we plant when we plant the tree?
We plant the houses for you and me;
We plant the rafters, the shingles, the floors,
We plant the studding, the lath, the doors,
The beams, the siding, all parts that be,
We plant the house when we plant the tree.
What do we plant when we plant the tree?
A thousand things that we daily see.
We plant the spire that out-towers the crag,
We plant the staff for our country’s flag;
We plant the shade from the hot sun free,
We plant all these when we plant the tree.
EXERCISE—Wedding of the Palm and Pine.
(Characters.—Uncle Sam, Miss Palm, Mr. Pine,
and maids for Miss Palm, and servant for Mr. Pine.
The maids carry tropical fruits, and one holds either
a palm leaf or a peacock fan over Miss Palm, who
wears a flowing dress made of some light cheesecloth
or goods without starch; also over her head an ice-wool
shawl. Her face powdered white, cheeks rosy,
and she should be a girl having black hair and eyes.
Approaches the stage very modestly, and is always
very reserved. Her dress should wear flowers and
blossoms. Mr. Pine should be stately, tall and reserved,
and should wear tuft of pine for button-hole
bouquet. His hair might be whitened with magnesia.
His attendant should carry his fur coat and leggings,
etc. Uncle Sam should be dressed in customary attire.
Uncle Sam first enters stage, carrying a good-sized
flag. Palm carries a palm-leaf fan on which is
fastened on one side a small flag, and on the other
side a wreath of leaves—myrtle or the like.)
“She’s up there, Old Glory, where light wings are sped,
She dazzles the nations with ripples of red;
And she’ll wave for us living, or droop o’er us dead—
The flag of our country forever!
She’s up there, Old Glory, how bright the stars stream!
And the stripes like red signals, of liberty gleam!
And we dare for her living or dream the last dream,
’Neath the flag of our country forever!
She’s up there, Old Glory, no tyrant-dealt scars—
No blur on her brightness, no stain on her stars!
The brave blood of heroes hath crimsoned her bars—
She’s the flag of our country forever!”
There comes from the south (Miss Palm enters) where the balmy breeze blows,
There comes from the north (Mr. Pine enters) where the hardy pine grows,
Warm hearts and true hearts, loyal and free,
The Palm and the Pine now wedded to be.
Come stand ’neath the flag, modest Palm, mighty Pine,
(Both step to front before Uncle Sam and bow to
each other, and then gracefully salute the flag.)
The emblem so dear to brave fathers of thine,
And under its bars, and its stars and its blue,
Unite now and ever to dare and to do (join hands)
What your hearts and your hands can our nation to save,
And to keep the old flag o’er the free and the brave.
(Uncle Sam, placing his right hand upon the
joined hands of Palm and Pine, continues.)
No north, no south, no east, no west,
But one, united, free!
The Palm and Pine, in Union blest,
Now stand for liberty.
From lakes to gulf, from sea to sea,
May union stronger grow;
Thus teach the world humanity,
And might together go.
(Retire, Palm leaning on arm of Pine.)
PAPER—Origin of Arbor Day.
At an annual meeting of the Nebraska
State Board of Agriculture, held in the city
of Lincoln, January 4, 1872, Hon. J. Sterling
Morton introduced the following resolution
which was unanimously adopted after a short
debate as to the name; some desired to call
the day “Sylvan” instead of “Arbor:”
Resolved, “That Wednesday, the 10th
day of April, 1872, be, and the same is
hereby especially set apart and consecrated
for tree planting in the State of Nebraska,
and the State Board of Agriculture hereby
name it Arbor Day, and urge upon the people
of the State the vital importance of tree
planting, and hereby offer a special premium
of one hundred dollars to the agricultural
society of that county in Nebraska which
shall upon that day plant properly the largest
number of trees; and a farm library of
twenty-five dollars’ worth of books to that
person, who, on that day, shall plant properly
in Nebraska the greatest number of trees.”
The result was that over a million trees
were planted in Nebraska on that first Arbor
Day. A few years later, April 22, the birthday
of Mr. Morton was set apart by the
Governor as Arbor Day in that State, and
now nearly all States observe Arbor Day.
RECITATION—Value of Our Forests.
(The pupils come on the stage, one at a time, and
recite, showing the article about which they speak
and give motions.)
1st Pupil (carrying a bunch of toothpicks).
A Toothpick is a little thing, yet it
is reported that one factory
uses 10,000 cords of wood annually
in the production of these splints
of wood.
2d Pupil (carrying a box of pegs).
Shoe pegs are small affairs; yet a single
factory sends to Europe annually 40,000
bushels of pegs, besides what it sells in this
country.
3d Pupil.
A spool is of small account when the
thread is wound off; yet several factories use
each from 1800 to 3500 cords of wood every
year in making these articles. Thousands of
acres of birch trees have been bought at one
time by thread manufacturers, for the sole
purpose of securing a supply of spools.
4th Pupil.
Who thinks much of the little friction
match, as he uses it to light the lamp or fire,
and then throws it away? But one factory, it
is said, makes 60,000,000 of these little articles
every day, and uses for this purpose
12,000 square feet of best pine lumber.
5th Pupil.
Forests affect the climate of the country;
influence the rain of a country; build up a
wall and protect the crops; they keep the
air pure. The leaf-mold in forests holds
back the rains. We draw $700,000,000
worth of products every year from the trees.
No other crop equals this in value.
All in Concert.
“The groves were God’s first temples.
Ere man learned
To hew the shaft and lay the architrave
And spread the roof above them; ere he framed
The lofty vault, to gather and roll back
The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood,
Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down
And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks
And supplication.”
SONG—Tune: “America.”
Up from the smiling earth
Comes there a voice of mirth
Our hearts to cheer;
Listen where the willows lean,
Lovingly o’er the stream,
Listen, where the pine trees dream,
Springtime is here.
Let us sing merrily,
Blithely and cheerily,
With the new year;
Join in the chorus,
Loudly swelling o’er us;
Joy is before us,
Springtime is here.
Come, let us plant a tree
Tenderly, lovingly,
Some heart to cheer,
Long may its branches sway,
Over the dusty way
With shade for sultry day,
For years to be.
CONCERT RECITATION—The Trees.
(By small pupils standing in aisles and in imitation
of trees, gestures as indicated.)
We are trees in tiny rows
Growing straight and tall;
Roots we have so when it(1) blows,
None of us may fall.
Bending gently (2)to and fro
Then to (3)left and right,
Makes us stronger as we grow,
(4)Upward to the light.
Tiny branches spreading wide,(5)
Adding grace and form,
Growing firmly from our side,
(6)Hide us from the storm.
On our branches, in the spring,
(7)Leaves in green unfold;
Till the frost with cruel sting,
Turns them into gold.
Then our brightly tinted leaves,
From our branches fall;
(8)Flutter in the autumn breeze,
To October’s call.
(9)Midst our branches squirrels run,
Searching for our fruit;
And the birds in summer’s sun,
(10)Flit in hot pursuit
And at night when all is still,
(11)We have gone to sleep,
Comes the owl, a mouse to kill,
And (12)hoots in a voice so deep.
As little trees of hope we stand
And promises of good;
Oh, may we grow up (13)tall and grand
A deep and shady wood,
Bear sweet and gladsome fruit of love,
And shelter weary souls;
And (14)lift our crests the storm above,
Where endless sunlight rolls.
Gestures for “The Trees.”
1. Half of the number imitate the swaying of trees
by the blowing of wind, done by bending head and
body to right and left. 2. Hands on hips, body
bending forward and backward. 3. Body bending
left and right. 4. Point upward with right hands.
5. Slowly extend arms. 6. Crouch as in hiding. 7.
Arms extended, open hands slowly. 8. Arms extended,
move fingers like fluttering leaves. 9. First
imitate leaping squirrel with right hand; then with
left; then with both hands. 10. Move hands to and
fro with fast moving fingers. 11. Arms extended
direct above head, fingers closed and eyes shut. 12.
Half the number imitate the hoots while others recite.
13. Move arm full length obliquely from right side,
and direct eyes upward in same direction. 14. Lift
both hands slowly to full length above head in front
of body, and look up.
MUSIC—To be Selected.
PROGRAMME FOR A HARVEST HOME.
TUNE.—“Marching Through Georgia.”
Through the golden summertime we’ve all been sowing seeds;
Oh they’ve sprung to blossoms or to tall and ugly weeds;
Children have we sown the seed of wrong or kindly deeds,
All through the bright days of summer.
The seeds we planted along life’s onward way,
Are swiftly growing, growing every day;
What the harvest time shall be, it is for us to say—
Let us be cheerful in sowing.
RECITATION.—A Sermon in Rhyme
If you have a friend worth loving,
Love him. Yes, and let him know
That you love him, ere life’s evening
Tinge his brow with sunset glow.
Why should good words ne’er be said
Of a friend till he is dead?
If you hear a song that thrills you,
Sung by any child of song,
Praise it. Do not let the singer
Wait deserved praises long.
Why should one who thrills your heart
Lack the joy you may impart?
If a silvery laugh goes rippling
Through the sunshine on his race,
Share it. ’Tis the wise man’s saying
For both joy and grief a place.
There’s health and goodness in the mirth
In which an honest laugh has birth.
If your work is made more easy
By a friendly helping hand,
Say so. Speak out brave and truly
Ere the darkness veil the land.
Should a brother workman dear
Falter for a word of cheer?
Scatter thus your seeds of kindness,
All enriching as you go—
Leave them. Trust the Harvest Giver,
He will make each seed to grow.
So, until its happy end
Your life shall never lack a friend.
FARMER JOHN.
(For a man dressed in farmer’s costume.)
Home from his journey Farmer John
Arrived this morning safe and sound;
His black off and his old clothes on;
“Now I’m myself,” says Farmer John;
And he thinks, “I’ll look round.”
Up leaps the dog: “Get down, you pup!
Are you so glad you would eat me up?”
The old cow lows at the gate to greet him,
The horses prick up their ears to meet him:
“Well, well, old Bay!
Ha, ha, old Gray!
Do you get good food when I’m away?
You haven’t a rib,” says Farmer John;
“The cattle are looking round and sleek;
The colt is going to be a roan,
And a beauty, too; how he has grown!
We’ll wean the calf next week.”
“I’ve found this out,” says Farmer John,
“That happiness is not bought and sold,
And clutched in a life of waste and hurry,
In nights of pleasure and days of worry;
And wealth isn’t all in gold,
Mortgages, stocks, and ten per cent.,
But in simple ways and sweet content;
Few wants, pure hope, and noble ends,
Some land to till, and a few good friends
Like you, old Bay,
And you, old Gray:
That’s what I learned by going away.”
RECITAL—The Husbandman.
(For boys and girls.)
Earth, of man the bounteous mother,
Feeds him still with golden grain;
He who best would aid a brother
Shares with him his loaded wain.
Many a power within her bosom,
Noiseless hidden, works beneath;
Hence are seed and leaf and blossom,
Golden ear, and clustered wreath.
These to swell with strength and beauty
Is the royal task of man;
Man’s a king; his throne is duty,
Since his work on earth began.
Bud and harvest, bloom and vintage—
These, like men, are fruits of earth;
Stamped in clay, a heavenly mintage.
All from dust receive their birth.
What the dream but vain rebelling,
If from earth we sought to flee?
’Tis our stored and ample dwelling;
’Tis from it the skies we see.
Wind and frost, and hour and season,
Land and water, sun and shade—
Work with these, as bids thy reason,
For they work thy toil to aid.
Sow thy seed and reap in gladness!
Man himself is all a seed;
Hope and hardship, joy and sadness—
Slow the plant to ripeness lead.
ORATION—The Nobility of Labor.
I call upon those whom I address to
stand up for the nobility of labor. It
is Heaven’s great ordinance for human
improvement. Let not that great ordinance
be broken down. What do I say? It is
broken down; and it has been broken down
for ages. Let it, then, be built up again;
here, if anywhere, on these shores of a new
world—of a new civilization. But how, I
may be asked, is it broken down? Do not
men toil? it may be said. They do, indeed,
toil; but they, too, generally do it because
they must. Many submit to it as, in some
sort, a degrading necessity; and they desire
nothing so much on earth as escape from it.
They fulfill the great law of labor in the
letter, but break it in the spirit; fulfill it with
the muscle, but break it with the mind.
To some field of labor, mental or manual,
every idler should fasten, as a chosen and
coveted theatre of improvement. But so is
he not impelled to do, under the teachings
of our imperfect civilization. On the contrary,
he sits down, folds his hands, and
blesses himself in his idleness. This way of
thinking is the heritage of the absurd and
unjust feudal system, under which serfs labored,
and gentlemen spent their lives in
fighting and feasting. It is time that this
opprobrium of toil were done away with.
Ashamed to toil, art thou? Ashamed of
thy dingy workshop and dusty labor-field;
of thy hard hands, scarred with service
more honorable than that of war; of thy
soiled and weather-stained garments, on
which Mother Nature has embroidered,
’midst sun and rain, ’midst fire and steam,
her own heraldic honors? Ashamed of these
tokens and titles, and envious of the flaunting
robes of imbecile idleness and vanity?
It is treason to nature—it is impiety to
Heaven—it is breaking Heaven’s great ordinance.
Toil, I repeat—toil, either of the
brain, or of the heart, or of the hand, is the
only true manhood, the only true nobility!
Orville Dewey.
RECITATION—The Corn Song.
(For a lad who holds a tall stalk of corn in left
hand.)
Heap high the farmer’s wintry hoard;
Heap high the golden corn!
No richer gift has autumn poured
From her most lavish horn!
Let other lands, exulting, glean
The apple from the pine,
The orange from its glossy green,
The cluster from the vine;
We better love the hardy gift
Our rugged vales bestow,
To cheer us when the storm shall drift
Our harvest-fields with snow.
Where’er the wide old kitchen hearth
Sends up its smoky curls,
Who will not thank the kindly earth,
And bless our farmer girls?
Then shame on all the proud and vain,
Whose folly laughs to scorn
The blessing of our hardy grain,
Our wealth of golden corn!
Let earth withhold her goodly root,
Let mildew blight the rye,
Give to the worm the orchard’s fruit,
The wheat-field to the fly.
But let the good old crop adorn
The hills our fathers trod;
Still let us, for his golden corn,
Send up our thanks to God!
SINGING—Tune: “Rockingham.”
