On an easel at center of stage have a picture of Lincoln, two large flags draped above it and smaller ones around it. On either side of picture stand girls dressed in white trimmed with red, white and blue bunting, each holding a flag. They repeat:
"He went about his work--such work as few Ever had laid on head and heart and hand-- As one who knows, where there's a task to do, Man's honest will must Heaven's good grace command.
"So he went forth to battle, on the side That he felt clear was Liberty's and Right's, As in his peasant boyhood he had plied His warfare with rude Nature's thwarting mights.
"So he grew up, a destined work to do, And lived to do it: four long-suffering years. Ill-fate, ill-feeling, ill-report lived through, And then he heard the hisses changed to cheers."
When Lincoln was a little boy, So fond was he of reading, His book was with him at the plough Or in the garden weeding.
His home was in the woods and so He couldn't have much schooling. He had to work the live-long day, And had no time for fooling.
He understood the plough and hoe And with the ax was handy. He didn't care for dressing up, And never was a dandy.
For all the while his head was filled With plans for gaining knowledge. A first-class lawyer he became, Yet never went to college.
He borrowed books from far and near, From every kindly neighbor, And studied them most faithfully When resting from his labor.
_Chorus_: Keep on working, working on, Daily knowledge claiming, And you at last will reach the heights At which you are aiming.
The day that gave us Lincoln Is one we all love well; The day which now we honor More than we can tell. O little old log cabin, Afar in forest wild, We love your roof that sheltered This most wondrous child.
And while we sing his praises We'll try like him to be: All upright, true and noble, From self-seeking free. And we will yet remember, However poor our state, There still is a chance, like Lincoln, To grow good and great.
This day we will remember In loyal love and joy; For time or change can never Faith in him destroy. Yes, wreathe this day with flowers Forever in our thought; It gave the world a hero And sweet freedom brought.
[O] Music for this may be found in Golden Glees song book, by S. C. Hanson. Price, thirty-five cents, postpaid.