 Arbor Day Fete
by Grace A. Lusk
(Stage, if possible, represents scene out-of-doors; raised throne to right.)
Enter Chorus.
Every season hath its pleasures,
Which we sing in joyous measures;
In Summer's sunshine, rich and sweet,
Blossom flowers, ripens wheat;
Autumn puts the wood aflame,
Poets give her beauties fame;
Winter comes—a world of snow
And crisp, clear air make faces glow;
Spring awakens Nature dear,
Song birds chant 'neath skies so clear,
Every season hath its pleasures,
Which we sing with joyous measures.
Enter boy and girl (with flag and drum).
Boy:
In Summer comes the joyous Fourth,
I beat my drum for all I'm worth;
Girl:
Our crackers make a joyous noise,
For girls like fun as well as boys.
(The holidays, after speaking, step to left and right of throne.)
Enter girl (in Puritan dress).
After reaping harvest's gold
Thanks we render, for manifold
The blessings are each passing year,
Thanksgiving is a day of cheer.
Enter girl (in coat and furs, arms full of packages and holly).
On the night before Christmas
There came to our house,
A right jolly old elf, as still as a mouse;
He filled all the stockings,
Trimmed each Christmas tree,
Made our Christmas merry—a good saint is he!
Enter very small boy (carrying a big book under his arm with 1913 printed on it).
The wild bells rang across the snow,
The old year went—though loath to go;
The New Year came, while bells were ringing;
His days of joy and sorrow bringing.
Enter girl (in white trimmed with red hearts).
Mine is a day of piercing darts,
Flowers sweet, and big red hearts,
Cupids tender, verses fine,
I'm the happy valentine.
Enter two boys (carrying flags).
Together:
Birthdays of patriots, brave and true,
In February drear, make cheer for you.
First boy:
Lincoln so kind, was everyone's friend;
Second boy:
Washington did a young nation defend.
Chorus (to Holidays).
Once, each year, supreme you reign,
O'er the lads and lassies in your train,
Now comes our gentle springtime fay,
The gladsome, happy Arbor Day.
Enter Arbor Day (in white, crown of flowers, accompanied by two small maids with flowers, accompanist softly plays Mendelssohn's Spring Song).
Chorus continues.
Each holiday brings joy and gladness—
Makes us banish thoughts of sadness,
Arbor Day, your reign is brief,—
But every blossom, every leaf,
Every bird of wood or field
Its fullest homage now doth yield.
May you be a happy queen,
We, happy subjects are, I ween.
Arbor Day (while Chorus leads her to throne).
Thank you for your greeting hearty,
This will be a merry party.
Chorus.
Our friends, the children, in meadows at play,
Are coming to join our glad holiday.
School children (with baskets and bouquets of flowers pass to right of stage, salute in military fashion, saying):
Dear Arbor Day, your subjects loyal,
Give you greetings, hearty, royal.
Queen.
Thank you, friends, greeting sweeter,
Never yet a queen had greet her.
Enter ten girls (in white with flowers in hands and in their hair; they quickly and lightly run across stage and form in line; each courtesies as she says her lines).
First girl:
I'm the queen, for I'm the Rose,
The proudest, sweetest flower that blows.
Second girl:
I'm shy Violet, from the wood,
You know me by my purple hood.
Third girl:
I'm the Dandelion yellow,
Some call me a saucy fellow.
Fourth girl:
I'm Anemone, shy and tender,
On my stalk so tall and slender.
Fifth girl:
I'm Morning Glory that climbs the wall,
My trumpet flowers softly call.
Sixth girl:
I'm Buttercup with a chalice to hold
The rich warm sunshine's yellow gold.
Seventh girl:
I'm Apple-blossom, my pink dresses
The bee admires, so he confesses.
Eighth girl:
I'm Waterlily, my golden heart
Keeps the sunbeam's glancing dart.
Ninth girl:
I'm shy Crocus, the first to show
My pretty head from beneath the snow.
Tenth girl:
I'm sleepy Poppy, from my home in the wheat,
I've come with the others our new queen to greet.
All in unison:
Dear Arbor Day, your subjects loyal,
Give you greeting, hearty royal.
Arbor Day.
Thank you, blossoms, sweet and tender,
I your kindness shall remember.
Rose (turning to flowers and holidays).
Nature laughs in gleeful joy,
In songbirds trill, in flowerlets coy,
Shall we, also, voices raise,
Sing our gentle spring queen's praise? \
(School children, Holidays and Flowers sing while Flowers join hands and dance about in circle.)
(Tune: Campbells are coming.)
Springtime is here, tra-la, tra-la,
Brooklets run clear, tra-la, tra-la,
Birds are winging, flowers springing,
For springtime is here, tra-la, tra-la.
(Alternate girls step inside circle, face outward, other circle about.)
The gentle May breeze, tra-la, tra-la,
Plays o'er the green leas, tra-la, tra-la,
Dandelions twinkle, violets sprinkle,
The sward 'neath the trees, tra-la, tra-la.
(Each girl in inner circle gives her right hand to left hand of girl in outer circle, thus in "wheel form" they circle singing.)
The garden flowers gay, tra-la, tra-la,
Are here to stay, tra-la, tra-la,
The rich red roses, and all pretty posies,
Say springtime is here, tra-la, tra-la.
(Dropping hands in single file they pass to back of stage singing.)
Springtime is here, tra-la, tra-la,
Brooklets run clear, tra-la, tra-la,
Birds are winging, flowers springing,
For springtime is here, tra-la, tra-la.
Arbor Day.
Thank you, friends, greeting sweeter,
Never yet a queen had greet her.
But who comes now in trim array
So straight and proud,—tell me, pray?
Trees enter (carrying budded boughs of trees; they march and countermarch in simple march figures, while piano plays "Campbells are coming," or "Narcissus." They form in line, each saluting queen as he speaks his line.)
First boy:
The Maple gives us grateful shade;
Second boy:
The Laurel's honors never fade;
Third boy:
The Chestnut's flowers are fine to see;
Fourth boy:
But the Apple's are better, thinks the bee;
Fifth boy:
The Fir tree softly seems to sigh;
Sixth boy:
The Spruce lifts up its head so high;
Seventh boy:
The Elm tree's beauty you'll remark;
Eighth boy:
The Birch is proud of its silver bark;
Ninth boy:
The Cedar tree is stately and tall,
Tenth boy:
But the hale old Oak is king of all.
Trees in unison:
Arbor Day, your subjects loyal,
Give you greetings; hearty, royal.
(March to music to back of stage behind Flowers.)
Arbor Day.
Thank you, trees, from lowland and hill,
I appreciate your hearty good will,
Are others still coming to our fete?
We welcome them, though they be late.
Enter ten small girls (run in on tiptoe lightly, waving arms while the others sing.)
The birds are flying, tra-la, tra-la,
Their strong wings a-trying, tra-la, tra-la,
From east and west, they come with the rest,
For Springtime is here, tra-la, tra-la.
First girl (courtesies):
The Robin has a pretty vest,
Second girl:
The Bluebird sweetly sings his best;
Third girl:
The Bob-o-Link trills in its meadow home,
Fourth girl:
The Bluejay calls in a shrill loud tone,
Fifth girl:
The Blackbird sings in the tall marsh rushes,
Sixth girl:
But sweeter, softer, call the Thrushes,
Seventh girl:
The Oriole whistles from its swinging nest,
Eighth girl:
But the Song Sparrow sings the sweetest and best.
Ninth girl:
The Meadow Lark chants his mad, merry glee,
Tenth girl:
Woodpecker just taps, so busy is he.
In Unison:
Dear Arbor Day, your subjects loyal,
Give you greeting, hearty, royal.
Arbor Day:
A queen whose welcomed by the birds,
Feels joy too deep for idle words.
Dear friends, my subjects, it is May;
Let us sing Spring's roundelay.
(Here may be introduced groups of the charming flower songs by Mrs. Gaynor, bird songs by Nevin, simple folk dances, and appropriate Spring poems, etc., as part of the May Day fete.)
Arbor Day.
This day has been so full of pleasure,
I cannot yet my sadness measure.
And scatter our joyousness far and wide.
(Exit, first the Birds, then the Trees, the flowers, the School children, the Holidays, then Arbor Day and Chorus, singing.)
The birds are trilling, tra-la, tra-la,
Their glad songs are filling, tra-la, tra-la,
The wood and dale, the meadow and vale,
The Springtime is come, tra-la, tra-la.
The gentle May breeze, tra-la, tra-la,
Plays o'er the green leas, tra-la, tra-la,
Dandelions twinkle, violets sprinkle,
The sward 'neath the trees, tra-la, tra-la.
The garden flowers gay, tra-la, tra-la,
Are here to stay, tra-la, tra-la,
The rich red rosies and all the posies,
Say Springtime is here, tra-la, tra-la.
Springtime is here, tra-la, tra-la,
Brooklets run clear, tra-la, tra-la,
Birds are winging, flowers springing,
For Springtime is here, tra-la, tra-la.
(Simple costumes make this more effective. All the girls wear white gowns—Chorus has a simple Greek dress. Arbor Day a crown of flowers and scepter, her maids baskets of flowers; the flower girls wear chaplets of blossoms, artificial ones are best; The Holidays can wear appropriate dress; the School-Children enter as if from play with their baskets, dolls, flowers, fishing rods, etc.) |
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