The light: An educational pageant
Date: 2022-12-18T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Pageants

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Title: The light: An educational pageant

Author: Catherine T. Bryce

Release date: December 18, 2022 [eBook #69573]

Language: English

Original publication: United States: The Atlantic Monthly Press, 1920

Credits: hekula03 and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)

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THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS
BOSTON

THE LIGHT

An Educational Pageant

By
Catherine T. Bryce

Assistant Superintendent of Schools
Cleveland, Ohio

Boston
The Atlantic Monthly Press
1920

Copyright, 1920, by
The Atlantic Monthly Press, Inc.

[This pageant was prepared for presentation
at the Cleveland Convention of the National
Education   Association,   February,   1920.]

Prologue: The Vision | 1
The First Glimmer: Experience | 5
The Second Glimmer: Tradition | 8
The Third Glimmer: Invention | 11
The Fourth Glimmer: Training | 15
The Fifth Glimmer: Discipline | 16
The Sixth Glimmer: A First Lesson in Democracy | 18
The Seventh Glimmer: The Book | 27
The Eighth Glimmer: Force | 29
The Ninth Glimmer: Training for Democracy | 36
The Tenth Glimmer: A Warning | 45
The Eleventh Glimmer: Education’s Dream | 52
Epilogue: The Gleam | 56

MUSIC

Incidental music may be introduced at appropriate places throughout the pageant. The following suggestions may prove helpful:—

Glimmer I. During a moment’s tableau just before curtain falls: strain of a dirge.

Glimmer II. To accompany girl’s humming.

Glimmer III. Indian music for curtain.

Glimmer IV. Music throughout.

Glimmer V. Martial music.

Glimmer VI. Accompaniment for minstrel.

Glimmer VII. Solemn, followed by patriotic, music during time curtain is raised.

Glimmer IX. Patriotic music as curtain falls.

Glimmer XI. As indicated in the text.

Final—Star-Spangled Banner.

PROLOGUE

THE VISION

Characters

Any City: a boy.

Education: a girl, taller than the boy.

Any City is dressed like a modern business man. Education is dressed in classic robes, hair in loose Grecian knot with gold fillet. She carries a lamp shaped like the old-fashioned one so frequently used to illustrate Education.

Any City is studying the proposed tax levy for the year. He is seated in an easy chair.

Any City (impatiently). H’m. It just can’t be done! It is out of the question to raise so much money by taxation this year. This list of appropriations must be cut. But where? What can be cut without raising a row? (Looks over the list.) Half a million dollars for a new bridge over the canal at 7th St. There’s a perfectly good bridge at 9th St., and another at 3rd St. But the railroad and marketmen will strike if we don’t build this new bridge. To keep peace, I’ll have to stand by that appropriation. (Pointing to different items on the paper.) That must not be cut; nor that; nor that; nor that! H’m! Three million dollars for the extension of Grand View Avenue. Really, that’s not necessary. That road is being opened only for the accommodation of some rich men who take advantage of my city opportunities, but live in the suburbs and evade paying any taxes to me. But their financial influence is so great, I dare not cut this appropriation. (Continues study of list.) No, not that; nor that; nor that! Ha! here is the school appropriation: three and a half million dollars. I hate to do it, but I’ll have to cut here. Of course, it means curtailing the kindergarten, deferring the building of the much needed new elementary school in the 3rd Ward, the abolition of summer schools, the serious handicapping of junior and senior high school work, the overcrowding of classes, and no hope of increase in teachers’ salaries. Oh! I hate to do it! But I must! It’s positively the only place I can cut without bringing about a strike or at least a kick. But—oh—Taxation is Vexation!

With the paper still in his hand, he leans back in his chair, relaxes as one who has solved a weighty question satisfactorily, and is soon as fast asleep as his neighbors, the other cities of the land.

Enter Education, holding her lamp aloft. She glides slowly across the stage to the sleeper and holds her lamp above him. He awakes slowly, stretching his arms, and in so doing drops the paper to the floor.

Any City (sleepily). A light! (Suddenly perceiving Education, he sits forward in his chair.) And you! Who are you?

Education. The bearer of the light.

Any City. What is your name?

Education. Since the beginning of time I have borne many names. Men have called me Experience, Tradition, Discipline, Invention, Culture, Ambition, Knowledge, Training, Learning, Teaching, Instruction, Development, Information, and many other names, and I answer to all. But I am more commonly called Education.

Any City starts up, snatches up the tax budget, and holds it behind his back.

Any City. Why are you here?

Education. Because I have need of you; and because you have need of me. Here, hold my light for a moment.

Any City holds the light carefully in both hands, dropping his paper in order to do so. The light grows somewhat dim.

Education. The light still burns. It does not go out in your keeping. By that symbol, I know that by my light you may still choose the right path, that you may follow the path in confidence, that you may arrive in safety at the journey’s end. Come with me for a while into the shadows, and watch my light glimmering through the ages. Me you shall not always see in person, but wherever my light burns, know that I am surely there. Come.

As Education speaks the first “Come,” she takes the lamp from Any City and holds it aloft. At the second word “Come,” she takes his hand and leads him behind the curtain. Before leaving, Any City picks up his paper, which he carries as far from Education as he can.

Curtain is raised.

First Glimmer: Experience

The light of Education is hanging above. The background for this and the next two pictures may be the same—a forest scene.

Characters

- Strong Arm, the Father
- Fleet Foot, the Daughter
- Rash Daring, the Son

Costumes: Flesh-colored tights and skins of animals.

Rash Daring is writhing on the ground in agony. Fleet Foot runs toward him with water in her cupped hands. On the ground lies some brightly colored fruit.

Fleet Foot. Here, my brother, drink the pure water. It may allay your suffering. Oh, that ye had heeded my words, my brother!

She kneels beside Rash Daring, and tries to force him to drink. Then smooths his brow with her moistened fingers. Suddenly Rash Daring’s body jerks spasmodically; then is still.

Fleet Foot (seizing his hands in terror). Look at me! Speak to me, my brother! (Cries aloud.) O father! father!

Strong Arm rushes in, takes in picture at a glance, and kneeling beside Fleet Foot, examines the body of the boy.

Fleet Foot. What shall I do, father? Shall I fetch more water?

Strong Arm. Nay, little daughter. There is nothing to be done. Your brother is dead.

Fleet Foot throws herself down, weeping bitterly.

Strong Arm touches her head gently with his hand.

Strong Arm. Tears are but idle. Sit up, my daughter, and tell me what caused the death of my son.

Fleet Foot (controlling herself by a great effort). Far away in the forest we found a small tree covered with beautiful fruit. See, father, there is some of it at your feet. (Strong Arm picks up a fruit and examines it, while Fleet Foot continues her story.) Rash Daring wanted to eat some of the fruit as soon as we found it; but I persuaded him to gather it and carry it home for you to see, for I feared it was poisonous because, with many monkeys in the neighboring trees, not one fruit on the small tree had been bitten or plucked. On our way home I ran ahead of my brother. Suddenly he cried aloud. I hastened back and found him lying on the ground in great pain. He told me that he had eaten some of the fruit and suffered greatly. I ran to the brook for water, but he could not drink it. Then I called you.

Strong Arm. Yes, the fruit is poison. Would that we could purchase our experience at a smaller cost! O my son! my son!

As Strong Arm speaks the sentence, “Would that we could purchase,” etc., the light burns brightly.

Curtain

As the curtain falls, Education, bearing her lamp and leading Any City, steps before it.

Any City. But, Education, I do not understand! Your light burned aloft; but there was no school!

Education. No school? You have visited the hardest school in the world, the school ruled by the sternest teacher in the world—the School of Experience. Fortunate are they who learn from the experience of the past and the experience of others.

As Education speaks, her light is cast for a moment on the tax paper. Any City glances at the paper and tries to conceal it. With a beckoning gesture Education leads him again behind the curtain.

Second Glimmer: Tradition

Characters

Old Woman, and several maidens

They are seated in an almost closed circle, each grinding grain between two flat stones. Above them hangs the light. They are dressed in Oriental costume, the bright colors of which serve as a background to the gray stones. They grind with a rhythmic movement, humming a monotonous tune. Gradually one of the maidens stops and gazes dreamily toward the light.

Old Woman. Get thee to thy work, maiden. Thinkst thou idle fingers and dreaming eyes will grind the corn?

Maiden (with hand on upper stone as if ready to resume work, but with eyes toward the light, which glows brighter as she speaks). I was but wondering if there be not some better way to grind the corn.

Old Woman. Better way to grind the corn, she says! She means easier way—an easier way for her own idle self! Shame upon thee, thou lazy maiden! Shame upon thee, thou presumptuous maiden! Thinkst thou that in thy foolish mind lies the wisdom of the earth? Had there been a better way, would not our fathers, the wise men of the land, have discovered that way and handed it down to us? Have not the women of our country from generation to generation ground their corn in this way? If this way were good enough for them, it is good enough for us! Thinkst thou that thou art better or wiser than they? I have no patience with thy dreams, born of thine own laziness! Get to work, maiden, and let me hear no more of thy better ways! Better ways, forsooth!

While the Old Woman speaks, the light burns dimmer. The other maidens stop their work to listen, all showing their approval of her words, and their condemnation of her who dared to dream of better things. As the Old Woman finishes, they resume their task and their monotonous tune.

Curtain

Education and Any City appear before the curtain.

Any City. Good for the Old Woman! I believe in sticking to old well-tried things. So many people believe that just because a thing is new, it is the only good thing in the world.

Education. But a greater number believe that just because a thing is old, it is sacredly all sufficient. If everybody had thought with you and the Old Woman, how would the world be fed to-day? Think you those primitive stone-grinders rival the great flour mills of the present day? How many hand-mills think you would be necessary to grind the wheat of our vast plains?

Any City. Of course, I don’t mean that I want things as they were long ago. But there are some people who are never satisfied. They are continually wanting things different.

Education. No, you don’t want things to remain as they were. You want them to stay as they are. That is all the Old Woman wanted in her time. She didn’t want to go back to the earliest days when the grain was ground only by the teeth of the consumer. Had everyone followed blindly the tradition of his own time, we should still be at the very beginning. Look you to the justly dissatisfied man for all that has made for progress in the world. Saw you not how my light brightened at the words of the maiden? Remember that, far as we have journeyed in the past, so far and perhaps still farther lies the way of the future along the Highway of Progress. Be not you bound too tightly by the bonds of old tradition.

As Education speaks the last sentence, her light plays for a moment on Any City’s paper. With a guilty air he tries to conceal it, as he follows Education behind the curtain.

Third Glimmer: Invention

Characters

Hiawatha and a group of Indians

A deerskin with picture-writing on it (see text below) is in the centre of the background. Over the writing burns the light. Hiawatha stands before the deerskin instructing his people, who are grouped about him. During his lesson they show signs of eager approval.[1]

Hiawatha.

Lo, how all things fade and perish!
From the memory of the old men
Pass away the great traditions,
The achievements of the warriors,
The adventures of the hunters,
All the wisdom of the Medas,
All the craft of the Wabenos,
All the marvelous dreams and visions
Of the Jossakeeds, the Prophets.
Great men die and are forgotten,
Wise men speak; their words of wisdom
Perish in the ears that hear them,
Do not reach the generations
That, as yet unborn, are waiting
In the great, mysterious darkness
Of the speechless days that shall be.
On the grave-posts of our fathers
Are no signs, no figures painted;
Who are in these graves we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
Face to face we speak together,
But we cannot speak when absent,
Cannot send our voices from us
To the friends that dwell afar off.

Turns to deerskin, and points with an arrow to different symbols, as he names them.

On the white skin of the reindeer
I have painted shapes and figures,
Wonderful and mystic figures,
And each figure has a meaning,
Each some word or thought suggesteth.
Gitche Manito, the Mighty,
He, the Master of Life, I’ve painted
As an egg, with points projecting
To the four winds of the heavens.
Everywhere is the Great Spirit,
Is the meaning of this symbol.
Mitche Manito, the Mighty,
He, the dreadful Spirit of Evil,
As a serpent I’ve depicted.
Very crafty, very cunning,
Is the creeping Spirit of Evil,
Is the meaning of this symbol.
Life and Death I draw as circles;
Life is white, but Death is darkened.
For the earth I draw a straight line,
For the sky a bow above it;
White the space between for daytime,
Filled with little stars for night-time;
On the left a point for sunrise,
On the top a point for noontide,
And for rain and cloudy weather
Waving lines descending from it.
Footprints pointing toward a wigwam
Are a sign of invitation,
Are a sign of guests assembling.
Thus, my people, I would teach you
All the mysteries of painting,
All the art of Picture-Writing.
Go ye then and mark your grave-posts
Each one with its household symbol.
And the Jossakeeds, the Prophets,
The Wabenos, the Magicians,
And the Medicine-Men, the Medas,
Paint upon the bark and deerskin
Figures for the songs ye chant us
For each song a separate symbol,
Figures mystical and awful,
Figures strange and brightly colored;
Let each figure have its meaning.
Thus shall live the great traditions,
The achievements of the warriors,
The adventures of the hunters,
All the wisdom of the wise men,
All the craft of the magicians,
All the visions of the prophets.

Curtain

As Education and Any City appear before the curtain, Any City is protesting in sputtering confusion.

Any City. But—but—I—I can’t for the life of me understand why your light burned so brightly over those crude drawings!

Education. Crude they were, I grant, but they meant much to me. Through them was passed on the results of my work for ages—all that I had taught the people through experience and tradition, all that they had achieved, their strivings, their conquests, their beliefs, and their dreams. Invention, originality, self-expression, call it what you will, is the gateway to Progress. Honor to the man who is not bound by old precedent, who is not swayed by might or favor, who establishes a new procedure based on right and justice. (Light directed to paper.)

Any City (in confusion, as he conceals paper). I thought that Education is training and discipline!

Education. Those are two of my attributes. Come with me and you shall see some early lessons in training and discipline.

Education and Any City withdraw from before the curtain.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The following has been adapted slightly from Hiawatha.

Fourth Glimmer: Training

Young men and maidens in ancient Greek costume at exercises for the training of the body. The lamp hangs above.

I. | Maidens playing with a golden ball (to music).
II. | Young men throwing discus.
III. | Dance.

Curtain lowered for one minute.

Fifth Glimmer: Discipline

As the curtain is raised, boys representing Roman soldiers march in. Under the command of their leader, they go through some military evolutions. At last the order corresponding to our “Attention!” is given. Every man stands like a statue.

A Messenger, wildly excited, rushes in from right of stage.

Messenger. Fire! The whole city burns! Your homes and all that you hold dear are in danger!

Rushes off at left.

During the alarm not one man moves. Not a quiver betrays their feelings. Officer gives command and leads them off at double-quick toward fire at right.

Curtain

Education and Any City appear before the curtain.

Any City. Magnificent! Now I know the source of that “Glory that was Greece,” and that “Grandeur that was Rome!” Surely never since those olden days have you seen such grace of body, such discipline of mind!

Education. Yes, I have seen little children at play who were as graceful as any trained dancer of old Greece; and have you forgotten our American lads that went down on the Tuscania? Surely the discipline and courage of those untried boys, who met death with a song on their lips, were equal even to that of the trained and tried legions of Imperial Rome.

Any City. But surely you do not deprecate such training and such discipline?

Education. Nay, far from it! It is only when such training and discipline are given but to certain classes that I tremble. Come with me and I will show you how the trained, the selected classes had power over their brother men until—But wait; you shall see for yourself. Come.

Exit Education and Any City.

Sixth Glimmer: A First Lesson in Democracy

A room in a feudal castle in England. A Man and a Maiden dressed as servants of the time (1215) are standing near an open casket. The Man holds an illuminated book in his hand. The Maiden is peering over his shoulder at the beautiful decorations. At her feet lies her distaff. The light burns dimly above. Some humble stools, and two high-backed chairs covered with gorgeous tapestry are the only furnishings.

Maiden. Oh, how lovely! I could look at the gay colors for years and never tire!

Man. And I would give years of my life if I could but read the writing in the book.

Maiden (clutching his arm in terror). Oh, say not so! The very walls have ears! If it were known that thou didst entertain an ambition so high above thy station, it would mean, at least, the stocks.

Man. I care not. Why should this book and all the learning of the sages be closed to me because I was born in a hovel, and opened to my master just because he chanced to be born in a castle? I tell thee it is not fair! I—

Enter the Lady Edyth. The Maiden, who first sees her, covers the Man’s mouth with her hand, so staying him and preventing the Lady Edyth’s hearing his words. She, however, sees the open casket, and the precious book in the hands of the servant, and sweeps angrily forward.

Lady Edyth. How now, sirrah; what dost thou with the precious book?

Man (humbly). I but looked at it, my lady.

Lady Edyth (snatching it from his hand). Thou “but looked at it”! Thinkst thou such a book was made for a boor like thee to look at, let alone to handle with thy great rude hands? How durst thou even open the casket? I have a mind to have thee flogged.

Maiden (falling on her knees). Nay, my lady, spare him, I pray thee! The fault is wholly mine. I opened the casket. I placed the book in his hands. I—

Man (stepping forward). Say not another word. Thou shalt not sacrifice thyself for me. Heed her not, my lady. I alone am to blame.

Lady Edyth looks from one to the other and her face softens. She replaces the book in the casket. Then turns again to the servants.

Lady Edyth. Methinks ye are both to blame; an’ ye transgress again, I shall see that proper punishment is meted out to both. Pick up thy distaff, wench, and get thee to thy spinning. (A knock at the door is heard.) And thou, sirrah, open the door.

The Maiden picks up her distaff and, seating herself on one of the stools, begins to spin. Lady Edyth, with one hand on the casket, stands looking toward the door as the Man opens it and admits Baron Olditch, a gentleman of the times, splendidly attired. Following the Baron comes a Minstrel, dressed in the garb of his profession. In his belt is thrust a scroll. Across his shoulder is slung his instrument—a mandolin, harp, or any stringed instrument common to the times.

Lady Edyth (extending her hand). Thou art doubly welcome, baron: I looked for no guest this stormy morning, and I am weary of mine own company.

Baron (bending over Lady Edyth’s hand). In thy gentle presence, I heed not the rude blasts of the storm; in the light of thine eyes, I know not, nor care, whether the sun be shining in full glory or hidden behind a cloud. As for thy weariness, I can speedily dispel it. I have brought with me a minstrel, with a new ballad that has set the whole town of London agog. If thou wilt be seated, he will begin his lay without further ado.

Lady Edyth graciously bows, and the Baron leads her with great ceremony to her chair. The Maiden steps quickly forward to place a footstool under her mistress’s feet. The smiling Baron bends again over Lady Edyth’s hand and takes a step backward. In doing so he treads on the Maiden’s distaff, which she has dropped, and nearly loses his balance. The smile leaves his face. In a rage he kicks the distaff away toward the Minstrel.

Baron. Out of my way, clumsy stupid wench!

He raises his hand, and the kneeling Maiden at her mistress’s feet cowers as if expecting a blow. The Minstrel and the Man each take a step forward, the Man with clenched hands; but the Baron carries his hand to his head and strokes his hair.

Lady Edyth. Forgive the maid, baron. She is a good wench and truly skillful.

Baron. There is nothing, there is nobody I would not forgive an’ thou asked it, my fair lady. (Turning to Maiden.) And now, stupid one, up and fetch a stool for the minstrel.

The Maiden obeys, while the Baron seats himself beside Lady Edyth.

Baron (turning to the Minstrel). And now, sir, we are ready to hear thy ballad.

The Minstrel advances to the seat the Maiden has placed for him. As he passes her, with a low bow, he hands her the distaff which he has picked from the floor.

Lady Edyth (aside to the Baron). Marry, but thy minstrel has right courtly manners!

Baron (aside to Lady Edyth). He comes here direct from the court.

Minstrel (standing before Lady Edyth, bowing very low). I am at thy service, my lady.

Lady Edyth. Talk not of service, O minstrel; it is pleasure thou bringest, I know. Most welcome art thou, for dearly love I all ballads. Pray be seated and favor us with thy rhymes.

With another low bow the Minstrel seats himself on the stool placed before Lady Edyth’s and the Baron’s chairs. While he unslings his instrument and makes ready, the Maiden seals herself and resumes her spinning. The Man watches the Minstrel with eager, longing eyes. As the lay is chanted, he is visibly affected. He forgets his work, he forgets his station, and, as if lured by the rhyme, creeps nearer and nearer. Lady Edyth and the Baron are unconscious of the effect of the minstrelsy on the Man as the backs of their chairs are toward his position.

Minstrel. I will recite for you, my lord and lady, the lay of Thomas Rhymer.

“True Thomas lay on grassy bank,
And he beheld a lady gay,
A lady that was brisk and bold,
Came riding o’er the fernie brae.

“Her skirt was o’ the grass-green silk,
Her mantle o’ the velvet fine;
And on the locks o’ her horse’s mane
Hung fifty silver bells and nine.

“True Thomas he took off his cap,

And bowèd low down on his knee:

‘All hail thou, mighty Queen of Heaven

For thy peer on earth could never be.’

“‘Oh no, oh no, True Thomas,’ she said,
‘That name does not belong to me;
I am but the queen of fair Elfland,
That am hither come to visit thee.

“‘Now, ye must go with me,’ she said;
‘True Thomas, ye must go with me;
And ye must serve me seven years,
Through weal or woe as chance may be.’

“She turned about her milk-white steed;
She took True Thomas up behind,
And aye, whene’er her bridle rang,
The steed flew swifter than the wind.

“O they rode on, and farther on,
The steed flew swifter than the wind;
Until they reached a desert wide,
And living land was left behind.

“‘Now light ye down, True Thomas,’ she said,
‘And lean your head upon my knee,
Abide ye there a little space,
And I will show you wonders three.

“‘O see ye not yon narrow road,

So thick beset with thorns and briers?

That is the Path of Righteousness,

Though after it but few inquires.

“‘And see ye not you braid, braid road,

That lies across the lily leven?

That is the path of wickedness,

Though some call it the “Road to Heaven.”

“‘And see ye not yon bonny road,

That winds about the fernie brae?

That is the Road to fair Elfland,

Where thou and I must go this day.

“‘But, Thomas, ye must hold your tongue,
Whatever ye may hear or see;
For speak ye word in Elfin Land,
Ye’ll ne’er get back to your ain countrie.’

“O they rode on, and farther on,
And they waded rivers above the knee;
And they saw neither sun nor moon,
But they heard the roaring of the sea.

“Syne they came to a garden green,

And she pulled an apple from a tree:

‘Take this for thy wages, True Thomas;

It will give thee tongue that can never lee.’

“He has gotten a coat of the even cloth,
And a pair of shoes of velvet green,
And till seven years were past and gone
True Thomas on earth was never seen.”

By the time the Minstrel has reached the last stanza of the ballad, the Man has advanced until he now stands directly back of Lady Edyth’s chair.

Man. Bravo! Bravo! Oh, what would not I be willing to give if only I might write—or even read—such lays as that!

The Baron and Lady Edyth are startled at hearing a voice so close.

Baron. (Starting to his feet in a rage, he makes a mad rush for the servant, belabors him, and throws him to the floor.) How darest thou comport thyself thus in the presence of thy betters! Write lays! read lays! What is the world coming to, forsooth, when every lazy churl aspires to lift himself from the station in which he was born!

He advances threateningly toward the Man, but the Maiden rushes between and, falling on her knees, raises her hands in pleading. The Baron stops. Lady Edyth leaves her chair and advances toward the Baron, as if to intercede, but he does not see her.

Baron. Out of my way, wench! I will have him flayed alive for his insolence! I will have him thrown into prison! I will—

Minstrel (interrupting). Thou shalt do him no ill.

Lady Edyth and the Maiden, still on her knees, and the Man, who has raised himself until he reclines on an elbow, look to the Minstrel with various expressions on their faces: Lady Edyth’s look is one of wonder, and fear for the consequence of his words; the servants’ faces express fear and a glimmer of hope.

Baron (astounded). What? What? By what right darest thou thus address me?

Minstrel. By the right granted by the King. Thou art far from London, and so methinks have not heard the news. Over a fortnight ago King John signed the Magna Charta.

Baron (forgetting his rage in a desire to hear all). Tell on.

Minstrel. The barons compelled him to sign the charter granting civil liberty.

Baron. Yes, granting greater liberty to us—the barons. Now more firmly may we deal with such upstarts as this varlet. I will—

Minstrel (again interrupting). Hold! The rights and the privileges granted to the barons are extended to their vassals. Listen to these lines.

As the Minstrel speaks, he draws the scroll from his belt and unrolls it. While he reads, the light burns brighter.

Minstrel (reading). “No freeman shall be taken, or imprisoned, or dispossessed, or outlawed, or banished, or in any way destroyed; nor will we pass upon him, nor commit him, but by the lawful judgment of his peers, or by the law of the land.

“To no man will we sell, to none will we delay, to none will we deny, right or justice.”

Thou seest, baron, it is for all men!

Man (rising slowly to his feet). “For all men.” And I am a man!

Curtain

Education and Any City appear before the curtain.

Any City. I am wondering if the book—the learning for which he hungered—was placed in the hand of the serf even after a more democratic government was established.

Education. No, not put into his hands; but he might reach forth his hands and take, and no man deny him. Come, I will show you two pictures: the first, the book in feudal times, the second, the book in a democracy.

Exit Education and Any City.

Seventh Glimmer: The Book

First Picture: A high reading-desk to which a book is chained. The light feebly burns above.

Second Picture: Abraham Lincoln, the boy, reading close to the light of the fire. The light of education burns brightly above his head.

The curtain is dropped for a moment between the two tableaux.

When the curtain is lowered after the pictures, Education and Any City again appear before it.

Any City (speaking as if continuing a conversation begun behind the curtain). But the chained book is but a symbol!

Education. No, it is a pictured fact. The book was so chained during the Dark Ages.

Any City (with satisfied manner). Well, thank fortune that we live in a democracy, where anyone who wants it may have learning.

Education. Congratulate yourself not on that fact. How many Abraham Lincolns, think you, are in this land to-day—boys who will travel miles of rough road in stormy weather and work at hard labor for weeks, for the privilege of reading a book? The few such give us no care. They mould their own future. But can we allow the millions of less ambitious young citizens, the lawmakers of the future, to go without the education they so sorely need, but never would secure through their own efforts? No! No! No! “The Spirit of Democracy is the fruit of Education.” And he who in any way curtails the opportunities for the education of American boys and girls is working directly against the Spirit of Democracy.

As Education speaks the last sentence, her light plays on the paper. Any City raises it as if to toss it away, but reconsiders his action and places it out of sight.

Any City. But I still maintain that things are made too easy for the children of the present day. They should be forced to learn as they were in the past.

Education. Have you ever seen “forced learning” in operation?

Any City. No, but I know it is good for children to be forced into right ways at times.

Education. Come with me into the past and see Force at work.

Any City. No, I really don’t care to.

Education. To paraphrase your own words, “It is good for a city to be forced into right ways at times.” Now is such a time for you. Come!

Education leads the reluctant Any City behind the curtain.

Eighth Glimmer: Force

A DAME SCHOOL

The Dame (teacher) is a sour-looking old woman. She wears side curls and a high comb, a kerchief and hoop-skirt. Her voice is loud and rasping.

The pupils in old-fashioned costume—boys in long trousers and short jackets, girls in full long skirts and plain bodices and aprons—are seated on benches made by placing boards on two wooden horses or other supports. There is no rest for the pupils’ backs; the feet of the shorter children swing above the floor. The boys are seated on one side, the girls on the other. A boy with a high peaked cap, on which the word “Dunce” is printed, stands on a stool at one side of the room. A little girl stands on a stool on the other side. About her neck is hung a placard on which is written, “I brought my puppet to school.” Her puppet, a rag doll, lies at her feet.

The Dame carries a switch in her left hand. A bundle of switches lies on her table. On the middle finger of her right hand she wears a great brass thimble. Whenever a child is reprimanded or punished, the other pupils laugh as if enjoying the discomfiture of a class-mate, thus showing the worst influence of the teacher in the lives of her pupils.

As the curtain goes up, the Dame is speaking to the girl who brought her puppet to school.

Dame. Thou hast stood on the stool now for thirty minutes—time enough for thee to repent. Sit thou now on the stool for another thirty minutes as an example to others.

Child obeys, crying. She lifts her apron to wipe her eyes.

Dame. Put down thine apron at once. (Sarcastically.) Wouldst cover thy beautiful placard? Let us all see thy shamed face and thy repentant tears. They are a sign of grace.

While she is talking, a little girl whispers behind her book to another. Dame spies her.

Dame. So, thou canst not keep thy mouth closed without help, Susie Gray? Well, I’ll help thee!

She takes a large handkerchief from table and ties it over child’s mouth.

Dame. Now go back to thy place! Next time, I will paste thy mouth shut.

She raps child over the head with her thimble, and Susie goes weeping to her seat.

While the Dame is disciplining Susie, a boy reaches out his foot and draws the rag doll toward him. He has all but secured it when the Dame discovers him.

Dame. So, Johnny Green, thou likest the puppet, too. Well, I think we will let thee play with it for a while. Bring it to me. (Boy comes sheepishly forward, carrying the doll by a leg.) Nay, that’s not the way to hold thy dear puppet. Take it in thine arms, so! (To girl on stool.) Bring thy placard here. Here is one who needs it more than thou. (She removes the placard from about the girl’s neck and hangs it about the boy’s.) Now take thy place on the stool, that we may all see how well thou canst hold thy baby.

As the boy takes his place, the other children snicker. The owner of the doll giggles with them, until she sees the boy slyly tear a leg from the doll. Then she begins to weep, but is afraid to tell the Dame of the boy’s act.

Dame (to boy in dunce-cap). Come here, little dunce, and see if thou knowest thy lesson now.

Boy climbs from stool and takes position before Dame, with hands folded behind him.

Dame. Spell joy.

Boy. G-o-y, joy.

Dame. Back to thy stool, and stay there until thou hast learned thy words.

Boy (retreats toward stool, then turns at bay). An thou keepst me on the stool for a week, I cannot learn my lesson without a book!

Dame. Insolence! Come to me and I will teach thee respect to thine elders.

As the boy comes slowly toward her and her upraised switch, she detects another boy holding his slate so that a girl may see a picture he has drawn of the Dame. She pounces upon him, while she waves the dunce to one side. The dunce takes advantage of her preoccupation with the second boy, to seize a book and study half-aloud, “joy, j-o-y,” before resuming his place on the stool.

Dame (ignoring picture of herself, speaking sarcastically to young artist). Oho, so he wants the girls to see how clever he is! He would like to amuse the girls! Go, then, and sit with the girls.

Second Boy. I don’t want to. I’d rather take a whipping.

Dame. Oh, be not so modest as to ask but one punishment. Thou shalt have it after your pleasant visit to the girls’ bench. Take thy place in the middle, little girl-boy.

The girls crowd together, to make as much room for the boy as possible as he takes his place in the middle of their bench.

Dame (to boy on stool). Now, dunce, come here. (Boy advances and stands before her.) Spell joy.

Boy. J-o-y, joy.

Dame. Take thy seat. Have thy lesson to-morrow or—(Holds up switch and shakes it.)

As the boy goes to his seat, he “makes a face” at the Dame, which she cannot see, but which is enjoyed by his classmates.

Dame. The first class in reading will now come forward. The rest will sit with folded arms as a punishment for the disorder in this school to-day. And let me see no one talking or swinging his feet, or it will go ill with him. I have a fine new bundle of switches itching to be used.

Curtain

Education and Any City appear before the curtain.

Any City. A very much exaggerated picture. I am sure that children never were so tortured in school.

Education. An exact picture of Dame Weary’s school in Colonial days. And you have not seen half the tortures inflicted on her hapless pupils as recorded in authentic records. When force rules, a despot reigns, and a despot can beget naught but despotism. The strong bullies; the sly escapes; the unscrupulous gathers the spoils. There is no foundation laid for a true brotherhood of man. In short, there is nothing in the teaching or in the discipline in a school of force that fitly trains pupils as present and future citizens of a democracy.

Any City. No, not in the school you have just shown me. But what of the little red schoolhouses? There we had true training. The pupils were not helped over-much. They had to solve their own problems. Those pupils could spell. Think of the good old-time spelling-matches! They could recite the orations of America’s great men. Those little red schoolhouses turned out scholars and patriots.

Education. All honor to the splendid men and women, teachers in the little red schoolhouses of the past! Far be it from me to decry in any way their work. But, methinks, the ruddy glow of the exterior and the mellowing influence of time have thrown a warm glow over the cold hard facts concerning the work that was carried on in the interior of these buildings. And, even if the little red schoolhouse was all that fancy has painted it, it has served its time; it is as inadequate to the work of training the boys and girls of to-day as are the primitive stones to the task of grinding wheat for the people of America in the twentieth century. You say that the little red schoolhouse turned out patriots. The first of these schools were built by English-speaking people who sought civil, religious, and educational freedom. They built their fort, their meeting-house, and their school at the same time. I tell you, the little red schoolhouse received patriots, patriots bred in democratic principles. Our schools to-day receive people speaking many languages, bred in ideals far removed from those of a republic. When you speak of the schools of the past, you think of the best; when you speak of the schools of to-day, you speak as if you knew only the worst. How long is it since you actually visited a real American public school?

Any City (embarrassed). Why, I—really—I must confess that I have not visited a school since I was a pupil. I left when I was in the sixth-grade.

Education (with light shining on tax paper). And you presume to pass on present day educational needs with a hazy idea of what education has wrought in the past, and absolutely no knowledge of what she is accomplishing to-day?

Any City shows signs of embarrassment and discomfiture, but does not answer.

Education. Come with me. We will visit a sixth-year grade of to-day.

Education leads Any City behind curtain.

Ninth Glimmer: Training for Democracy

The light bums brightly over a modern schoolroom. The pupils are seated in chairs or at movable desks, well grouped. Miss White, the teacher, is seated near her desk, or table, which is neatly arranged and is brightened by some flowers. She is dressed in a pretty, serviceable frock, with white collar and cuffs. She wears well-fitted, medium-heeled shoes. Her hair is neatly and becomingly coiled. All her movements are graceful but thoroughly alive. Her voice is pleasing and her articulation is perfect. In dress, voice, and movements, the pupils reflect the teacher’s influence.

An elderly gentleman is visiting the school. When the curtain is raised, he is standing beside a chair near the teacher and is speaking to seven boys and girls standing in line. He holds a paper containing a list of words in his hand.

Visitor. I congratulate you, young people. The list of words I gave you in the spelling-match just ended, is the very list that was given over a hundred years ago in a spelling-match held in the town hall of a New England village. Pupils from two district schools took part in the contest, and the hall was crowded with their friends and relatives. At the close of the match everybody was spelled down but one boy, Hiram Edwards, afterwards a famous preacher. At the end of our match to-day, we have seven girls and boys still standing. I congratulate you more once.

The pupils bow and return to their seats.

Visitor. Miss White, this is my first visit to a schoolroom in ten years. I am interested in the modern methods of education. May I ask you a few questions?

Miss White (who has risen to her feet on being addressed by her elderly visitor). Certainly. My pupils and I will gladly answer all the questions we can.

A questioning smile of the teacher’s is answered by assenting smiles from the pupils.

Visitor. What are the pupils doing in geography?

Miss White. Will someone answer our visitor?

Several pupils rise.

Miss White (choosing). Mary.

Mary (looking straight at Visitor). To-day we are to show whether or not Argentina is a progressive country.

Visitor. Aren’t you going to take just what your geography says? That’s what we did when I went to school.

Mary. Yes, but we want to know more than our geography tells before we can decide.

Visitor. Bless me! I don’t see how you’re going to get anywhere. Suppose half of you say Argentina isn’t a progressive country, and the other half say it is, and the geography says nothing—who is going to decide?

Mary. Oh, we must all prove our statements, show our authority. (Taking up a book and looking around.) See, we all have reference books. (Other pupils produce books which they hold up.) They are all different.

Visitor (walking over and peering at titles through glasses). Different! So they are—as different as our way of studying geography from one book in the past. Well! Well! What are you doing in arithmetic?

Again several pupils stand.

Visitor (choosing one). You tell me, young man.

Pupil. We are working problems in percentage. I am on page 201.

Visitor. And where are the others, pray?

Pupils stand and answer in turn at nod from visitor.

First Pupil. I am working on page 199.

Second Pupil. I am working on page 204.

Third Pupil. I am working on page 200.

Visitor. My! This is as bad as a district school! All working on different pages!

Miss White (to First Pupil). Tom, will you please tell our visitor how we study arithmetic?

Tom. Miss White explained what percentage is, that it is a sort of other name for decimal fractions, and the problems can be worked just like common or decimal fractions. Then we work them. That’s all. I’d have been farther, only I got stuck on the eighth problem on page 197. But I finally worked it all right. And now I am just sailing along.

Visitor. Good for you! Good for every one of you! I like the child or the man who solves his problems independently. I had an idea that nowadays teachers did the real work and pupils only copied it. That’s what I’ve been told.

Pupils look bewildered for a second, then, thinking this an attempt at a joke, laugh.

Visitor. When I was a boy, we used to speak pieces on Friday afternoons. I liked best to recite bits of patriotic speeches. Do any of you know Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address? (Most of the class stand.) Bless me! So many!

Miss White. If you would like to hear one of my pupils recite it, choose your orator.

Visitor. I think I’d like to hear this little chap speak those great words of a great man.

George, the boy chosen, comes to the front of the room and recites.

ADDRESS AT THE DEDICATION OF THE GETTYSBURG NATIONAL CEMETERY

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.

Visitor. Thank you, my lad, thank you.

Miss White. Sometimes we make original one-minute speeches. Would you like to hear one of those we prepared on Theodore Roosevelt? If so, choose your speaker.

Visitor. Indeed I would. I think I’ll choose you.

The pupil chosen comes to the front and delivers an original speech.

Visitor. Great work! Great work! I’m sure there is another Lincoln or Roosevelt in the making, right here in this class. I am especially pleased to hear these good American speeches, for I can see by your faces that some of you, or perhaps your parents, came from foreign lands.

Miss White. Those who were not born in America please stand. (Seven pupils stand.) In what country were you born?

In turn each answers: 1, Italy. 2, Russia. 3, Ireland. 4, Sweden. 5, Russia. 6, Austria. 7, England.

Miss White. Now, will all those whose parents—one or both—were born in other lands please stand also? (More than half the class rise. Motions pupils to their seats.) What are you all now?

Pupils (emphatically). Americans!

Miss White. I am sure our visitor will be pleased to hear, “I am an American,” recited by Alice and Peter. Then we will all recite The American Creed.

Alice and Peter come to the front of the room and recite.

Alice.

I am an American.

My father belongs to the Sons of the Revolution;

My mother, to the Colonial Dames.

One of my ancestors pitched tea overboard in Boston Harbor;

Another stood his ground with Warren;

Another hungered with Washington at Valley Forge.

My forefathers were America in the making:

They spoke in her council halls;

They commanded her ships;

They cleared her forest.

Dawns reddened and paled.

Stanch hearts of mine beat fast at each new star

In the nation’s flag.

Keen eyes of mine foresaw her greater glory:

The sweep of her seas,

The plenty of her plains.

The man-hives in her billion-wired cities.

Every drop of blood in me holds a heritage of Patriotism.

I am proud of my past.

I am an American.

Peter.

I am an American.

My father was an atom of dust,

My mother, a straw in the wind,

To his Serene Majesty.

One of my ancestors died in the mines of Siberia.

Another was crippled for life by twenty blows of the knout;

Another was killed defending his home during the massacres.

But then the dream came—
The dream of America.
In the light of the Liberty torch
The atom of dust became a man
And the straw in the wind became a woman
For the first time.

“See,” said my father, pointing to the flag that fluttered near,

“That flag of stars and stripes is yours;

It is the emblem of the promised land.

It means, my son, the hope of humanity.

Live for it—die for it!”

Under the open sky of my new country I swore to do so;

And every drop of blood in me will keep that vow.

I am proud of my future.

I am an American.

Miss White steps forward, and placing a hand on the shoulder of each, leads the class, as they stand proudly erect, in reciting The American Creed. The Creed must be spoken clearly and emphatically.

Class.

I believe in the United States of America as a government of the people, by the people, for the people; whose just powers are derived from the consent of the governed; a democracy in a republic; a sovereign nation of many sovereign states; a perfect union, one and inseparable; established upon those principles of freedom, equality, justice, and humanity for which American patriots sacrificed their lives and fortunes.

I therefore believe it is my duty to my country to love it; to support its Constitution; to obey its laws; to respect its flag, and to defend it against all enemies.

Curtain

Education and Any City appear before the curtain.

Any City. Do you mean to tell me that all the sixth-grade pupils in America are being taught as are these children? If so, no sacrifice is too great for the public to make, that such schools may be maintained.

Education. Alas, no! I have shown you one of the best schools. But there are hundreds of such schools in the land to-day; and I tell you, no sacrifice is too great for the public to make that all schools in the country may be brought to this standard, may be advanced beyond it. It is owing to the self-denial and patriotism of the best teachers of America that the average standard of her schools is as high as it is to-day; it is because of their untiring efforts that America has to-day schools beyond the price the public is paying for them.

Any City (as if thinking aloud). Yes, such children—children with a thorough education; children trained to think and act for themselves; children who learn to stick to a thing until it is finished; children who are healthy, courteous, and patriotic—will be a power for good when they become men and women.

Education. Yes, it is to the school-children of to-day that you must look for the controllers of the future destinies of America. Upon the training you give them now depends the fate of the Nation in the years to come. We are at the dividing of the ways. The public must either provide the means for the democratic training of all boys and girls, or permit class-distinctions in citizens of a republic. That you may know the danger that thus threatens, come with me and behold a possible school of the future.

Exit Education and Any City.

Tenth Glimmer: A Warning

A public school of the future suffering for lack of public support. The pupils are crowded into dilapidated desks—two pupils at each. Benches on which other pupils are crowded are arranged along the wall. The pupils are unkempt, ragged, rude. A small blackboard, much defaced, is at one side of the room. On it is some very careless work, misspelled words, poorly made figures, etc. The Teacher is slovenly in appearance: hair fussy and untidy; she is dressed in a sheer chiffon waist, much worn and entirely unsuited for business purposes; a badly hung skirt; shabby slippers with “run-down” high heels. Her movements are awkward and abrupt; her voice harsh; her articulation poor, the “g” being constantly dropped from words ending in “ing”; her pronunciation incorrect, and her grammar faulty. She is the type of teacher to be expected if teachers’ salaries are not materially advanced. Teacher’s desk is cluttered with books, papers, etc. As the curtain goes up the Teacher is talking to, or rather screaming at, a foreign-appearing woman—a woman with a black handkerchief on her head, who has brought two children to school.

Teacher. No, I can’t take them. Look at this room! For the land’s sake, where do you think I could put two more? Hang them on the wall, or plaster them to the ceilin’? Gee! I’d like to quit this job! (Raps on desk.) Stop yer talkin’! You’d think you had never been learned any manners. You know it ain’t perlite to talk when I’m speakin’ to a lady. (Turns again to visitor.) No, it won’t do you any good to see the Board of Education. They’ve got troubles of their own, I guess. I jest can’t take another one in this class and that’s the end of it. You’d better go now. I’ve no time to fool with visitors.

Woman leaves, shaking her head.

Teacher. The A division will take out your Arithmetics. (The A division obey noisily.) For the land’s sake! I didn’t tell you to smash your desks with them. I bet some of you bust your book-backs.

Pupils examine books; one boy deliberately tears back binding. All laugh. At this point, one of the old seats gives way and the occupants are thrown to the floor.

Teacher. There, I’ve been expectin’ that to happen any time for the last month. I have begged and begged for some decent desks, but the cry is always, “No money! No money!” Are you hurt, boys?

First Boy. No.

Second Boy. Yes, I twisted my wrist.

Teacher. Well, go home and have it ’tended to. I have no time to fix it for you. And (turning to First Boy) you can go with him, Sam. You might as well, for I have no place for you now your desk is broken.

Boys leave and Teacher turns again to the class.

Teacher. The B division will—

The class interrupts, A and B divisions shouting at the same time.

A Division. You never told us what to do yet!

B Division. You forgot to tell the A’s what to do with their Arithmetics!

Teacher (placing hands over ears, and screaming). Hush up! Do you want to make me deef? A’s do the first five examples on page 97.

The first, second, and third pupils speak at the same time.

First Pupil. Aw, I can’t do them examples!

Second Pupil. You never told us how to do them examples!

Third Pupil. I don’t know what this word means!

Teacher. You’ll have to do the best you know how. I’m sure I haven’t got any time to stop and explain things now. If I have time later, I’ll explain anythin’ you want to know.

Fourth Pupil. I hain’t got no pencil.

Teacher. Correct your English.

Fourth Pupil. I ain’t got any pencil.

Teacher. Borrow one off of another pupil.

The Fourth Pupil creates further disturbance by proceeding to borrow a pencil.

Fifth Pupil. The point of my pencil’s busted.

Teacher. Well, you can git along as best you can. With seventy-two pupils I haven’t got time to see that pencils are sharpened.

Sixth Pupil. I haven’t got no paper.

Teacher. Well, do your examples on the blackboard. The stingy allowance of paper provided for this class is used up long ago.

Sixth Pupil. The page is tore out of my book.

Teacher. I’m not surprised. We should have had new books two years ago. These have been in tatters for ages. Look on with somebody else.

Seventh Pupil. I—

Teacher. Oh, do be still! I won’t listen to another word. I’ve got to hear the B history lesson now. Let me see everybody at work at once.

A division takes its time getting ready, slouches down in awkward, unhealthful attitudes and makes a pretence of solving the problems it does not understand. The Teacher meanwhile is giving her attention to the B division.

Teacher. To-day we will have a review of America’s great men. (She opens her book and reads the questions from it.) John, who was Washington?

John. Washington was the first President of the United States. He was the father of his country. He cut down a cherry tree. He fought. He killed a colt.

Teacher. Very good, John. Does anybody else know anythin’ about Washington? (A number of hands are raised.) Well, what do you know, Mary?

Mary. His birthday is February twelfth.

Tom. Hear her, February twelfth! That’s Valentine’s Day. Washington’s birthday is February twenty-second, and we have a holiday.

Fred. You’re wrong yourself. February twelfth is Lincoln’s birthday. Valentine Day is the fourteenth.

Teacher. Stop quarrelin’. Fred is right. Now, Fred, what can you tell me about Lincoln?

Fred. He was a poor boy and split rails for the railroad. He was president. He was shot.

Teacher. Good.

Fanny. I know something else about Lincoln. He—

Teacher (interrupting). Never mind; we have no time to hear more about him. Tell me what you know about Franklin instead.

Fanny. One day a girl saw him walking along the street eating a roll. She laughed at him and so she married him.

Carrie. Franklin wrote wise things. We have a book about him at home. He said, “Early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.”

Peter. Call that wise! Gee, I never go to bed before eleven.

Fanny. I don’t believe Franklin ever said that. It don’t say anything like that in our history book.

Teacher. Well, if it don’t we’ll not talk about it. The land knows I’d be tickled if I had time to hear all that your book says, without huntin’ up more trouble in other books. Now we must stop. Time’s up, but you have done splendid, children. Nobody can say I don’t teach my children American history as good as anybody, even if I have such a whale of a class.

Curtain

Education and Any City appear before the curtain.

Any City. But it is impossible that such a state of affairs can ever exist in this land!

Education. Impossible! I tell you the beginning of such a state of affairs exists in this land to-day. The danger is even now at your doors. When the penurious, short-sighted policy of the public drives the cultured, trained, and efficient teacher from the classroom, her place is taken by the ignorant, the untrained, or the inefficient. There are scores of thousands of untrained, inefficient teachers in American schools, teaching American children to-day; and, unless the public speedily awakes to the danger, and pays the price for competent service, such teachers will predominate in the schools of to-morrow. Unless measures are promptly taken to secure for every child in America a seat in a healthful schoolroom, and books and materials for his education, the public schools of the land will surely sink to the level of the classroom I have just shown you. Are you willing to trust the government of this country to citizens so trained?

Any City. But the children you showed me are the children of the poor, the ignorant. Surely the children of the rich, the cultured, will have better training.

Education (sternly). The children I showed you are the children of America; and would you train a selected few to rule this land? If you say yes, then are you a traitor to America. You would overthrow this Democracy—the “government of the people, by the people, and for the people,” and substitute an aristocracy—a government of the people, by a favored class, for—what? Nay! I tell you, “the end of American education is the knowledge and the practice of Democracy.” The education of the children in a democracy is the concern of all the public. It must be an education of all the people, paid for by all the people. You sent millions of Americans across the sea to make the world safe for Democracy. You must educate every child in the land to make democracy safe for America. “Education is the most sacred concern, and the only hope of a nation.”

Any City. You are right. I wish that you had shown me a happier view of the future, however.

Education (eagerly). I will. I will show you my dream for the future education of America, and I can make the dream come true if you will lend your aid. Come.

Education leads, and Any City eagerly follows her behind the curtain.

Eleventh Glimmer: Education’s Dream

When the curtain is raised, the stage is almost in darkness, only the light of Education, from the lamp hung near the front, streams across the stage. A searchlight should be arranged to suggest the brightening of Education’s light, turning the glimmer into a broad gleam. Into this bright light march those who are a part of Education’s dream. All the characters of the past, those who took part in previous glimmers, should be grouped in the background—the Past looking toward the Future. The procession—Education’s dream—carry banners showing who they are. As they march, they sing.

Order of Procession

1. Leader, carrying American Flag.

2. Kindergartens, first a girl and boy, each carrying something to suggest their work. After them marches a third child with a banner on which is printed: “Kindergarten—From 4 to 6.”

3. The Elementary Grades:

- 2 First-Grade pupils.

- 2 Second-Grade pupils.

- 2 Third-Grade pupils.

- 2 Fourth-Grade pupils.

- 2 Fifth-Grade pupils.

- 2 Sixth-Grade pupils.

Some of above carry books and samples of work, showing that there is no lack of books and materials provided; others carry Indian clubs, dumb-bells, footballs, etc., showing that the physical welfare of the child is considered.

After the elementary grades marches a boy bearing a banner on which is printed: “Elementary Schools—From 6 to 12.”

Then follow the pupils representing the higher schools. Each group carries objects suggesting its special school activities.

4. The Junior High School—From 12 to 15.

5. The Classical High School—From 14 to 19.

6. The Technical High School—From 14 to 19.

7. The Commercial High School—From 14 to 19.

8. College—From 18 to 22.

9. Extension School—From 18.

10. Americanization—For all.

As they march they sing.

PROCESSIONAL: HYMN OF FREEDOM

(Tune: “Stand up, stand up, for Jesus.”)

Unfurl the flag of Freedom,
Fling far the bugle blast
There comes a sound of marching
From out the mighty past.
Let every peak and valley
Take up the valiant cry,
Where, beautiful as morning,
Our banner cuts the sky.

Free-born to peace and justice,
We stand to guard and save
The liberty of manhood,
The faith our fathers gave.
Then soar aloft, Old Glory,
And tell the waiting breeze
No law but Right and Justice
Shall rule the seven seas!

The procession forms a tableau toward front of stage. The Leader with the flag stands in front. All banners held at the rear face audience. In the centre of the line of banners is a very large one bearing the legend:—

A Place for Every Child in the Public Schools
and
Every Child in the Public School

- Leader. Let us repeat our slogan.

- All. Education for all!

- Leader. One country!

- All. The United States of America.

- Leader. One language!

- All. The English language.

- Leader. One flag!

- All. The Stars and Stripes.

Curtain

Education and Any City appear before the curtain.

Education. And now, speak no more of the cost of education. Fear rather the cost of ignorance. Never yet has America failed to give, and to give generously, to the cause of Freedom. And through education comes perfect freedom. Uncounted millions were spent in the war to make the world safe for Democracy. Will America not gladly spend a tithe of those billions for peace and to make safe the democratic principles of this republic?

Were half the power that fills the world with terror,

Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts,

Given to redeem the human mind from error,

There were no need of arsenals and forts.

Nor will a plea of ignorance avail. I have shown you glimmers of the past. I have told you the needs of the present. I have given you a gleam along the pathway of the future. By its light you may find the right path, you may see to walk in it, you may arrive safely at the journey’s end. Up! follow the gleam!

As Education says, “Up! follow the gleam!” the lights are turned off. Education steps behind the curtain, her hand holding the light being withdrawn last, so that the gleam remains after she has “faded” from sight. During the moment of darkness, Any City resumes his chair, and when the lights are turned on, is seen, as in the Prologue, fast asleep.

EPILOGUE

THE GLEAM

Any City (opening his eyes, as if waking from sleep). What a dream I have had! No, I believe it was what the seers of old would call a vision, for a light seemed to be with me always. (Picks up tax paper and opens it.) Well, dream or vision, I have learned a lesson. I will follow the gleam! By the gleam I see my path—I will cut off my hand before I cut one cent from this school appropriation! By the light of the gleam I will follow the path—I will give more, and more, and more, that my children may be educated in the knowledge and practice of Democracy. By the gleam I shall reach the goal—the democratic education of every soul in America. Only by thus following the gleam may I make certain that “government of the people, by the people, and for the people shall not perish from the earth.”

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

Obvious punctuation errors have been corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within the text and consultation of external sources.

Some hyphens in words have been silently removed, some added, when a predominant preference was found in the original book.

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Table of Contents

- OTHER ATLANTIC TEXTS INCLUDE
- THE LIGHT
- MUSIC

- PROLOGUE

- THE VISION

- First Glimmer: Experience

- Second Glimmer: Tradition

- Characters

- Third Glimmer: Invention

- Characters

- FOOTNOTES:

- Fourth Glimmer: Training
- Fifth Glimmer: Discipline
- Sixth Glimmer: A First Lesson in Democracy
- Seventh Glimmer: The Book

- Eighth Glimmer: Force

- A DAME SCHOOL

- Ninth Glimmer: Training for Democracy
- Tenth Glimmer: A Warning
- Eleventh Glimmer: Education’s Dream

- EPILOGUE

- THE GLEAM

- THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE