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The BOOK 
 of WORDS 
 
 ■Hu pageant <f 
 
 COLUMBUS 
 
 \Vitnin a Masque of 
 
 The I. I. y C. 
 
 (FRANCES O. JONES GAITHER) 
 

 WITHIN 
 
 A MASQUE OF I. I- & C. 
 
 WRITTEN FOR THE CLASS OF 1915 BY 
 
 FRANCES O. JONES GAITHER 
 
 INTERPRETIVE DANCES 
 
 WRITTEN BY 
 EMMA ODY POHL 
 
 COPYRIGHT. 10 15 BY 
 
 FRANCES O. JONES GAITHER 
 

 ©CID 40791 
 
 MAY 28 !9I5 
 
a 
 
 (Lommencement 
 Ilia? 
 
 of tlje 
 Class of 1915 
 
 ^issUsippi Ifn6u5trlal 
 institute ^ (TolUse 
 
 "Imma 06y "P"^! *"* 7ranc«» O. 3. <BaltI)«r 
 Sttav 27. 1915 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 When the members of the class of 1915 came to Miss Pohl 
 seeking inspiration for their commencement play, she at once 
 suggested a historical pageant of Columbus. They looked upon 
 the idea with enthusiasm and did not delay to talk of ways and 
 means. The tempting possibilities of the subject made me agree 
 very readily to their request to write the play, though I realized 
 that the time was far too short to exhaust even those resources 
 nearest at hand. There were no moments to linger, and I had 
 to hurry through the fascinating by-paths of scrap-books and 
 spoken reminiscences as well as the broad highways of history. 
 
 It is impossible to name here all of the people who patiently 
 helped to piece together the pictures of other days, enriching the 
 whole with personal anecdote and incident, but I must take this 
 occasion to thank the following: Mrs. J. O. Banks, Columbus; 
 Mrs| J. T. Benoit, Columbus; Judge Jacob M. Dickinson, Chicago; 
 Miss Mary Harrison, Columbus; Col. W. D. Humphries, Colum- 
 bus; Mrs. B. G. McCabe, Atlanta; Col. C. L. Lincoln, Columbus; 
 Mr. Blewett Lee, Chicago; Col. and Mrs. W. C. Richards, Colum- 
 bus; General and Mrs. E. T. Sykes, Columbus; Mrs. D. J. Shef- 
 field, Columbus; Miss Bettie Whitfield, Columbus. 
 
 Much of the purely local information as to the events of the 
 nineteenth century, was gained from Lipscomb's History of Col- 
 umbus, and from the archives of the U. D. C. In the latter were 
 found most interesting reminiscences, written by Ann B. Frank- 
 lin, Georgia P. Young, Regina L. Lee, Callie Harrison Sykes, Cor- 
 nelia Benoit, Helen R. Garner, Mrs. Samuel M. Meek, Fannie E. 
 Richards, Bettie J. Govan, and Alicia Campbell. 
 
 Numerous histories of the nation, the South, and Mississippi 
 afforded assistance but particularly were Claiborne's Mississippi 
 and Pickett's Alabama helpful. Much Indian material came from 
 the iJublications of the Mississippi Historical Society: papers by 
 H. S. Halbert, Col. W. A. Love, Peter J. Hamilton, Harry Warren, 
 Franklin L. Riley, J. W. Wade, and Gideon Lincecum. The De 
 Soto expedition afforded interesting source work in the chronicles 
 of its members: The Narrative of the Gentleman of Elvas; 
 Journal of Ranjel, De Soto's private secretary; The Narrative of 
 Biedma, the factor of the expedition, etc. There were found also 
 numerous books and papers based on these same chronicles. 
 Prescott and Washington Irving gave me my Christopher Colum- 
 bus scene. The old South, the war, and the days of reconstruc- 
 tion afforded shelf after shelf of books and much personal recol- 
 lection. 
 
 Since in a pageant minutes must represent years, the typical 
 is to be desired rather than the actual, and truth in a large sense 
 rather than photographic accuracy of detail. This is the aim of 
 the Pageant of Columbus. F. O. J. G. 
 
A Masque ^ 1. 1. ^ C 
 
 (Comprising Prelude, Interludes and Postlude.) 
 
 SCENE — The Valley of Youth on an afternoon in Spring. The 
 valley is surrounded by young trees and green hillsides. In tha 
 fore ground are three large trees. One of these grows upon a low 
 rocky hillock whereon are also a water fall and a winding path. 
 Flowers of many colors grow at foot of hillock in the spray of the 
 water. Straight across the front of the valley cutting it off from 
 the audience is a hedge, in which at one time during the prelude 
 a little wicket gate appears. 
 
 CAST OF CHARACTERS 
 
 Folly, a young girl. 
 
 Worldliness, her mother. 
 
 Indulgence, her father. 
 
 Crystal Clear, spirit of ideal girlhood. 
 
 Joy 
 
 Hope 
 
 Altruism 
 
 Candor )H«r Sisters, the attriDutes <7/^^irlnooa 
 
 Sympathy 
 
 Ardor 
 
 Beauty 
 
 I. I. and C. 
 
 A Throng of Girls. 
 
 Spirit of History. 
 
 ^he Fairy Godmothers of tne 
 
 Good Government 
 
 Education ^ r< ^ ^ 
 
 Prosperity j I oun^ Columbus. 
 
 The Young Columbus. 
 
 Mississippi. 
 
 A Herald. 
 
 PRELUDE. 
 
 (Folly, Indulgence, and Worldliness appear among trees at 
 left. Folly talking earnestly.) 
 Polly — Just a little farther now. Mama. First a little wicket 
 
gate set in a hedge, then one wee, twisting path, and we are 
 back in the street again. 
 
 VVorldlineSs — Another twisting path, Folly! 
 
 Folly — Just one more. (Stopping suddenly as she emerges into 
 the oipen valley.) Why there's the hedge, but Where's the 
 wicket gate? 
 
 Worldliness — 1 knew it. We are lost. 
 
 Indulgence — Oh, no, my dear, not lost in the Park. 
 
 AVorldliness — (Snappishly.) Then find the gate. 
 
 Indulgence — Well, after all this is a very pretty spot, a very 
 pretty spot. With a merry-go-round here and a small taste- 
 ful lunch counter there to liven things up, it would be rather 
 charming^ on the whole — eh, Folly? 
 
 Worldliness — Indulgence, please give your attention to getting us 
 out of this place, or I shall be late at Mrs. Nullos' Bridge. 
 
 Indulgence — Well, well, she's a very pleasant woman, a very 
 amiable woman. I am sure she — 
 
 Worldliness — Amiable! She's a perfect cat. Do find the gate. 
 
 Indulgence — (Stepping up to tree and tapping with his cane.) 
 Police! Police! 
 
 Folly — I don't see where we can be. I know every inch of the 
 Park. 
 
 Worldliness — I said all along we should not follow Folly. 
 
 Indulgence — (Meditatively.) This valley has a sort of familiar 
 look to me. Worldliness, did we not once — 
 
 Worldliness — I never saw such a forsaken spot in all my life. Do 
 try to get a policeman. Just suppose Mrs. Nullos has to play 
 my hand — she is a most atrocious player. 
 
 Folly — Look at that cunning water fall. Papa, didn't you once 
 let me dabble my feet in that very little basin when I was a 
 tiny little girl? I believe I'll do it again. (She hurries to- 
 ward water fall.) 
 
 Worldliness — Folly, how can you? Suppose some one were to 
 pass? 
 
 Indulgence — (Following Folly.) Why upon my soul! The child 
 is right. I remember it all. I made you promise not to tell 
 your mother, eh, Folly? And what a time I did have getting 
 on your little socks and shoes. Upon my soul, how could we 
 forget it? 
 
 Worldliness — Listen to me. Folly, I am sure I let you have your 
 way about everything in reason, but I will not hear to your 
 disgracing the family by wading in a public park. 
 
 Indulgence — Now, Mother, she's only a child. Let her do as she 
 pleases. 
 
 Worldliness — She's a grown young lady and engaged to be mar- 
 
ried. Besides, we must get away from here at once. Now, 
 Folly — 
 Folly — All right, all right, Mama. I shan't dampen the family 
 dignity. But you go ahead and see if you can't arouse a po- 
 liceman while I stay and pick these flowers for old sake's 
 sake. 
 Worldliness — Nonsense. 
 
 Indulgence — Come along, Mother. Let the child gather a few 
 posies. 
 
 (They go off right, Worldliness still expostulating. Folly 
 gathers flowers, humming a popular dance tune. A maiden in white 
 draperies comes softly around hillock, and watches her.) 
 Crystal Clear — (Curiously.) Why do you do that? 
 Folly — Pick the flowers, you mean? (Crystal Clear nods.) Why 
 
 because they are so pretty. 
 Crystal Clear — Oh, I didn't know you thought them pretty. 
 Folly — Why not? 
 Crystal Clear — You are breaking their stems, you see; so I 
 
 thought you didn't like them at all. 
 Folly — (Laughing) — What a funny girl you are. Where do 
 
 you live? 
 Crystal Clear — Here. 
 PoUy — In the Park? 
 Crystal Clear — Oh, no, it isn't a park. This is the Valley of 
 
 Youth. Don't you want to stay with us? 
 FoUy — I don't know. I should think one would be very lonely. 
 Crystal Clear — We never get lonely. We learn beautiful things — 
 
 and we sing — and dance — 
 Folly — (Showing real enthusiasm.) Dance! Don't you love it? 
 Do you know the newest one? Are there many boys about 
 here? Where do you dance? 
 Crystal Clear — -(Laughing.) Yes, I do love it. Every day my 
 
 sisters and I play games and dance here on the grass. 
 Folly — (Comtemiptously) — With your sisters! On the grass. How 
 
 can you? 
 Crystal Clear — I will show you. (She runs half way up the path 
 on the hillock and gives a clear yodel. Her seven sisters 
 come eagerly to her call, carrying bright colored balls. They 
 are dressed in soft draperies of varied colors. Joy wears 
 green; Hope, shell pink; Altruism, lavender; Candor, faint 
 blue; Sympathy, yellow; Ardor, cerulean blue; Beauty, rose 
 ping.) Joy, Beauty, all of you, here is a girl from 
 the outside and she doesn't believe we can danoe on the 
 grass. (They all laugh and toss their balls about as they 
 come. ) 
 Joy — Let's show her. Crystal Clear. ._^ ^ 
 
Ciij^stal Clear — These are my sisters, Joy, Hope, Altruism, Can- 
 dor, Sympathy, Ardor, Beauty. And I am Crystal Clear. 
 Polly — I am very glad to meet you. My name is Folly. 
 Ardor — What shall we dance? 
 
 Crystal Clear — The dance of Nausicaa and her Maidens. 
 Folly — Where ever did you learn such a dance? 
 Ci'ystal Clear — It was taught us by a kind and lovely woman, who 
 
 who comes to the valley to teach us one beautiful thing 
 
 every day. 
 Folly — Well, all the new dances have queer names. This one 
 
 must he a pippin. 
 Candor — ^This one isn't a new dance. It's centuries old, isn't it 
 
 Crystal Clear? 
 
 (They take their places and dance, Folly looking on a trifle 
 superciliously at first, but more and more interestedly as the 
 dance goes on. I. I. and C, a tall woman clad in flowing white 
 and gold, wearing a shining star on her forehead and carrying an 
 amphora on her shoulder, enters. She stands watching them.) 
 Joy — There she is! Oh, Alma Mater! (They all run toward her 
 
 joyfully.) 
 Crystal Clear — (Waiting for Folly.) That is I. I. and C, our 
 
 Alma Mater. It was she that taught us the dance. 
 Folly — Do you suppose she'd teach me too? 
 Crystal Clear — Alma Mater, Alma Mater, here's a girl from the 
 
 outside. Will you teach her, too? 
 I. I. and C. — If she wishes it. Crystal Clear, it will be a great hap- 
 piness to me. 
 
 (The Maidens surround I. I. and C. Worldliness and Indul- 
 gence return.) 
 Worldliness — Goodness gracious! Look there Indulgence. Who 
 
 are those odd creatures talking to Folly? 
 Indulgence — Why, they are nice-seeming girls, my dear, very 
 
 nice-seeming girls. 
 Worldliness — There's a woman, too. She looks like one of those 
 
 learned freaks who might put all sorts of notions into Folly's 
 
 head, Folly! Hurry on. 
 Folly — Why, there's the gate! 
 
 (She points to gate which has just become visible in the 
 hedge, toward the audience.) 
 Crystal Clear — Won't you let her stay with us here in the Valley 
 
 of Youth 
 
 (Maidens surround Indulgence, coaxlngly.) 
 Joy — Please, let her stay. 
 Ardor — Don't make her leave us. 
 Indulgence — Certainly, my dears. Yes, yes. It is a beautiful 
 
 place, and I shall be glad for my little girl to have such 
 
 8 
 
charming companions. Worldliness, my dear, let us go on 
 and leave the young folk to their pleasures. 
 
 Worldliness — Folly, do you realize what this means? If you 
 stay, you miss the ball young Mr. Wealth is giving. 
 
 Folly — I forgot the ball. Mama is right, I have to go. 
 
 All — No, No. 
 
 Polly — Come, Mama. (They hurry away, ignoring the pleas of 
 the maidens. At the gate, Indulgence looks back.) 
 
 Indulgence — Good-bye, my dears. 
 
 (When they have passed, the gate again is hidden. Crystal 
 
 Clear turns her head to hide the tears.) 
 
 1. I. and C — Come, Crystal Clear, do not grieve for Folly. She 
 would not have been happy here. Our simple pleasures 
 would soon have become stale for her, and then she might 
 have made even you discontented. (She puts her arm about 
 Crystal Clear, drawing her toward the hillock. The Maidens 
 are already ascending the pathway.) 
 
 Crystal Clear — But, Alma Mater, I wanted her to stay and learn 
 one beautiful thing from you. 
 
 I. I. and C. — (Turning, looks down into Crystal Clear's earnest 
 face). Never mind Crystal Clear, there are hundreds of 
 girls who wish to learn beautiful things. 
 
 Crystal Clear — Are there, truly? Why don't they come to you 
 then? 
 
 I. I. and C. — Perhaps they are waiting for you to call them. 
 
 (They are a&cending the path, now, and Crystal Clear 
 
 pauses.) 
 
 Crystal Clear — Oh, do you think so? 
 
 I. I. and C. — Try it. 
 
 Crystal Clear — (Standing half way up path, calls as before and 
 then stands listening intently. All listen, but Crystal Clear 
 first hears the far off sound.) I hear the sound of young 
 feet — and girls' voices! 
 (From every quarter there gathers the sound of feet and 
 
 voices hurrying toward the valley. Crystal Clear and her com- 
 panions are overjoyed as the Valley fills with hundreds of girls 
 
 in white.) 
 
 Girl — Did you call. Crystal Clear? 
 
 Crystal Clear — Yes, I called you. Will you bide a little while 
 with us in the leafy coolness and learn of our Alma Mater. 
 It is always Springtime here and the young growing things 
 pulse ever with a message she will teach you to under- 
 stand. We will wander through trees and learn all the won- 
 der stories of the earth, how the cackling of geese saved 
 Rome, how the lifting of a kettle lid loosed rushing trains 
 and swift flying ships. We will learn to fashion fair raiment 
 
and make sweet music. Alma Mater will teach us, too, to 
 drive out sickness and so to dance and play that we shall he 
 
 erect and very strong. (Her voice falters.) It's it's far 
 
 nicer than going to balls. Say you will stay. 
 
 I. I. and C — (Checking the murmur of assent.) Wait. Do not 
 answer yet. Understand more fully. If all these gifts are 
 freely yours, will you in turn give them to others? 
 
 The Throng of Girls — (Singing.) 
 
 "FOUNTAIN OF WISDOM." 
 (Music — The Soldier's Chorus, from Faust.) 
 
 Fountain of Wisdom and truth and light! 
 
 Guardian of honor and faith and right! 
 
 We pledge support and allegiance true 
 
 Our hearts and our hands, our hearts and our hands. 
 
 Our College, to you! 
 
 Who can quesition the pride 
 
 That our bosom stirs? 
 
 Where are others beside 
 
 With a fame like hers? 
 
 We have nothing to fear, nor can doubt assail 
 
 Our president great, the best in the state 
 
 Will not let us fail. 
 
 Fountain of wisdom and truth and light! 
 
 Guardian of honor and faith and right! 
 
 We pledge support and allegiance true, 
 
 Our hearts and our hands, our hearts and our hands, 
 
 Our College, to you! 
 
 Double I and C, 
 
 We love and serve and ever honor thy dear name! 
 
 I. I. and C. Oh, grant that we 
 
 May always live as daughters worthy of thy fame! 
 
 Double I and C, 
 
 Within thy walls we eaiger strive in learnings quest! 
 
 I. I. and C, we ever love thee, 
 
 We ever love thee, and know that they dost always stand for 
 
 what Is best! 
 We ever love thee, and know that thou dost always stand for 
 
 what is best! 
 DoBt always stand for what Is best! 
 I. I. and C! I. I. and C! I. I. and C! 
 
 10 
 
Fountain of wisdom and truth and light! 
 
 Guardian of honor and faith and right! 
 
 We pledge support and allegiance true, 
 
 Our hearts and our hands, our hearts and our hands. 
 
 Our College, to you! 
 
 Our hearts and our hands, our hearts and our hands, 
 
 Our College, to you! 
 
 — Anna W. Avon. 
 
 (During the chorus they seat themselves, facing the hillock, 
 on the ground at the foot of the hedge.) 
 
 Hope — You promised us a story today, Alma Mater. 
 
 I. I. and C. — I have not forgotten, Hope. I shall tell you the story 
 of Columbus, fairest city of flowers, how she first came into 
 being and then grew and grew to lovely womanhood. And 
 all of you who dwell throughout Mississippi, listening, shall 
 hear the story of your own loved town; for all have passed, 
 even as Columbus, through days when men lived in wigwams, 
 then in log huts, then in great mansions, then in tents of war 
 and last in sturdy walls rebuilt by unconquered hope. The 
 story of Columbus, is the story of the South. Shall I tell it? 
 
 Crystal Clear — That will be the best story of them all. 
 
 I. I. and C. — True history is not a bare catalogue of events but 
 a parable rich in meaning. (Enter the Spirit of History, 
 who gives an interpretive dance. "The Parable of Life." 
 Where shall I begin? 
 
 Joy — Begin with the Indians. 
 
 CrystAl Clear — No, before there were even any Indians. 
 
 (They settle themselves cozily and I. I. and C. begins.) 
 
 I. I. and C. — In the long, long ago, there was no sound through- 
 out all this land but the wind in the tops of the pine trees and 
 the scampering feet of wild creatures through the tall grass. 
 Unafraid the deer drank from the Luxapalila and bounded 
 at will through the silver scyamores. Each evening soft- 
 footed spirits of the forest crept out of their tree homes to 
 dance in the twilight. 
 
 11 
 
^Tnc Pageant of Columbus 
 
 PART I. 
 Scene I. In Ancient Days. 
 
 CAST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 Spirits of the Forest. 
 
 Chiahta. 
 
 The Prophet. 
 
 Long Arrow. 
 
 Running Deer. 
 
 The Tribe of Chahta. 
 
 PART I. 
 Scene I. 
 
 (To the faint sound of music, from behind the trees come 
 the Spirits of the Forest, each in drapery of many sihades of green. 
 They dance. Chahta and the pode-bearing Prophet enter and the 
 Spirits of the Forest fly in alarm to their hiding-places.) 
 
 Chahta — Again we come, wise Prophet, faithful Isht Ahullo, to 
 nightfall, sleeptime, and the planting of the Bacred pole. 
 
 Prophet — May the Great Spirit again hide our sleeping from 
 fierce enemies and with the coming of another sun again 
 point the pole toward the far-sought Land of Life. (Plants 
 pole in center of valley. They lie down to sleep. The Spirits 
 of the Forest slip back, dance about the pole and vanish. 
 The Prophet wakes, looks at the pole incredulously, springs 
 up, creeps to it, his eyes bulging.) 
 
 Prophet. — Chahta! Chahta! Mighty Chieftain, wake! Behold the 
 sacred pole, finger of the Great Spirit. When the first sun- 
 light touched it, it trembled for joy and now it stands erect 
 
 Ohabta — (Leaping to his feet, stands wonder-struck.) — Come, all 
 the tribe of Chahta, hither! Even you aged ones, who linger 
 always behind with heavy feet, hasten. Well may you spend 
 your strength in hurrying now, for the long journey is end- 
 ed. (As he speaks, there speedily gather many Indians, old 
 and young, all carrying burdens: some tools; some, bows 
 and arrows; and some great bags of bones. (They encircle 
 the pole, gazing at it with much wonder.) 
 
 Prophet — (Chanting) — Behold the sacred pole, O, my broth'erB. 
 
 12 
 
It points to the Father Above. 
 People — (Chanting) — Behold the sacred pole. 
 
 Piophet — When the sun first made my eyes to open I saw a won- 
 derful thing, the work of the Great Spirit. The nobagic pole 
 leaped into air, dancing for joy. (He leaps into the air and 
 dances), and each time it touched the earth it stamped and 
 stamped itself deeper. Then it stood erect as a young pine 
 telling us our long journey is ended. 
 
 People — Our long journey is ended. 
 
 Chahta — Running Deer, swiftest messenger, speed after the tribe 
 of Chicksa. Tell my brother to return with all his people, 
 for the Great Spirit has brought us to the Land of Rest. And 
 let another seek out the scouts that we may know what man- 
 ner of land is this fair-appearing country, our home forever 
 more. 
 (The messengers go ofl.) 
 
 Prophet — Assuredly are we a fortunate people. Many a sunrise 
 have we risen from sleep and followed the bending pole even 
 when it pointed us back over the paths just traveled. Many 
 winters have dropped their snows over us since we left our 
 ancient home in the far West. Burdened with the bones of 
 our ancestors, we have toiled over the pathless wilderness, 
 beset with sun-scorched plains and dried-up rivers of bitter 
 waters, over mighty, roaring torrents; and over dark low- 
 lands ominous with bellow of ferocious beasts. Bravely 
 have we battled and triumphed over all, and now are we at 
 rest. Here shall our children's children wax gray, and their 
 children's children become mighty hunters. The Great Spirit 
 gives us this land forever more. 
 (Enter Scouts led by Long Arrow.) 
 
 Long AiTow^ — Mighty Chief, Chahta the Brave, we hurried ahead 
 to spy out the land as you directed, and come now to tell 
 you it is a wide-spreading country, a quiet land of plenty. 
 There are no evil enemies lurking with hungry tomahawks 
 behind the bushes; but instead are the forests filled with 
 birds and plump deer and the little rivers are gleaming with 
 fish. It is a land of tall trees and running waters. 
 
 Chahta — Then truly is this the far-sought country, the Land of 
 Life, which my father of old saw in his vision; and our long 
 journey is indeed at an end. Let us at once possess this 
 land of plenty. Go, you hunters, bring venison and many 
 birds, for there is much hunger-producing work to be done 
 by all. (Hunters go off.) Is there corn in the camp? (An 
 
 13 
 
old woman brings two battered ears.) Only this? All ate 
 who had teeth to eat and only the toothless remembered the 
 time of planting. But trouble not. In this ripe laad the 
 golden sun, lord of life, will bless our labors, and countless 
 sweet ears shall spring from these withered ones. Go, all 
 you carriers of tools, till the mellow earth that the Dance 
 of the Green Corn may be not far distant. (Carriers of tools 
 go off, one of them taking the corn.) And you, carriers of 
 burdens, bearers of ancestral relics, hear my word. From 
 the far-off country of the setting sun have you patiently 
 borne the sacks of your fathers' bones. Well it is that you 
 have done this though grievously oppressed. Now we have 
 come to rest, let also the bones of our fathers rest. Go, 
 make a great pile of the revered treasures, and carry much 
 earth in baskets on your heads to cover over the bare skele- 
 tons until there stands a mighty mound, a glory to our peo- 
 ple. (The burden carriers go off.) And you, faithful Isht 
 Ahullo, taks up once more your sacred load. (Prophet lifts 
 pole.) When we wavered in the trackless desert, It leaned 
 and led us onward in paths of safety. As a leading light to 
 our feet it has brought us to this Land of Life. Go, plant 
 it firmly on our great mound, a worshipped reminder of our 
 long pilgrimage. 
 
 (Prophet goes off. Running Deer enters.) 
 Rnuning Deer — Great Chief, I failed. 
 
 Chahta — You did not overtake my brother's people? 
 
 Running- Deer — A mighty rain had washed their footprints from 
 the grass. 
 
 Chahta— (Sadly) — Then Chicksa ever more must wander though 
 we were once brothers at one burning fire. (He sighs.) But 
 it is the will of the Great Spirit. Come, Running Deer, let 
 us join the workers. 
 
 INTERLUDE. 
 
 Crystal Cleai- — Did his brother Chicksa wander forever more. 
 Alma Mater? 
 
 I. I. and C. — No, the Great Spirit brought the people of Chicksa 
 to rest not far to the north of Chahta, and after many gen- 
 erations, the hunters of the tribes, meeting, told each other 
 the dim legend of those far-off days when they were 
 "brothers of one burning fire." 
 
 Crystal Clear — Then they became friends? 
 
 I. I. and C. — (Smiling) — Oktibbeha, the stream that marks the 
 
 14 
 
boundary between their nations, is the Indian word for 
 
 "Bloody Waters." 
 All — (With sharp intake of breath) — Oh — ! 
 Crystal Clear — Go on, Alma Mater. 
 
 I. I. and C. — For centuries perhaps, the claim of the Indian to his 
 forests was in no danger of being disputed. Then a "wonder- 
 ful thing happened. 
 
 PART I. 
 Sc«ne 2. Before Grenada. 
 
 (April 1492.) 
 
 CAST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 Two Ladies of the Court. 
 
 A Page. 
 
 Isabella, the Queen. 
 
 Juan Perez, prior of the convent of La Rablda. 
 
 Ferdinand, the King. 
 
 Christopher Columbus. 
 
 Louis de St. Angel. 
 
 Lords and Ladies. 
 
 Pages. 
 
 Priests. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Scene 2. 
 
 (The encampment of Ferdinand and Isabella before Gre- 
 nada. Beating of drums and shouts of joy heard In the distance. 
 "Long live Isabella! Long live Ferdinand. Long live their 
 Christian majesties. (Enter two ladies of the court.) 
 
 First Lady — I did not know there were in all Spain so many 
 voices as now shout in jubilee before Grenada. 
 
 Second Lady — What a triumph for our king and beloved queen. 
 (Enter Page.) 
 
 Page — I cannot find the queen. She is not in the royal pavilions. 
 I bear an urgent message. 
 
 First Lady — You may see her in the midst of her rejoicing court 
 and army, but speech with her is impossible. 
 
 Page — Oh, no. I have only to whisper, "A holy father seeks the 
 
 16 
 
Queen," and through the roar of millions she'd hear me. 
 
 Second Lady — (Smiling indulgently) — I believe she would. 
 
 Page — And if to that I add, "This friar has come travel-stained 
 and riding on a weary mule," she'd sipeedily cause the hosts 
 to part that she might succor man and mule. (Shouts as 
 hefore, but louder.) I must find her. (Goes off, towiard the 
 shouting. ) 
 
 First Lady — There is never a momenit in the queen's day free 
 from importuning followers. All the nation pours its woes 
 into the sympathetic ear of Tsabella. 
 
 Second Lady — All Europe, you may as well say. How tired I 
 grew of seeing that Italian sailor ahout the court at Seville 
 and even following the camp in every expedition. 
 
 First Lady — An Italian siailor? Was he a tall, tragic-appearing 
 mau ? 
 
 Second Lady — That is the man I mean. Christopher Coilumbus. 
 For three years he clung to the courts, seeking patronage in 
 some wild venture conceived in a sick brain. 
 
 First Lady — He had not the look of an ihsane man. On the con- 
 trary, he seemed to me a man of deep, oalm thought. 
 
 Second Lady — You may be sure he was only a wild visionary or 
 
 we should have him still with us. 
 
 First Lady — Then he has been turned away? (Page enters mn- 
 ning.) 
 
 Page — (Triumphantly) — Just as I predicted, she's left them, 
 king and all, and comes now to meet the friar and his mule. 
 (Ladies hurry to meet queen who enters preceded by other 
 ladies in waiting. Ladies drop to their knees as the queen 
 passes. From the opposite direction rides Juan Perez upon his 
 mule. When the friar sees the queen, he dismiounts, gives 
 bridle to page, and comes forward.) 
 
 Isabella — Father! Is it indeed you, my father confessor of other 
 days? Have you journeyed all the wiay from La Rablda 
 alone? 
 
 Juan Perez — It is indeed I, my child, come all the way from La 
 Rabida to talk with you. 
 
 Isabella — You must be worn with much travel. 
 
 Juan Perez — The long ride has been refreshed throughout with 
 news of your successes. I have journeyed through the con- 
 quered countries of the Moors and have seen the Holy CJrosB 
 
 16 
 
shining where for eight hundred years has glittered the Ori- 
 ental crescent. 
 
 Isabella — Ah! I wish that you could have been here this morn- 
 ing to see Boabdil the Moor, surrender to us the keys of 
 Alhambra. 
 
 Juan Perez — God be praised. The last Moslem stronghold has 
 fallen. May He bless you and Ferdinand, his most Catholic 
 Majesty. 
 
 Isabella — Nay. He has already blessed us in making us His in- 
 struments. If we have spread His kingdom, we have our re- 
 ward. 
 
 Juan Perez — It has been a weary campaign? 
 
 Isabella — We do not think of that now. The weariness and strife 
 are ended. But what has brought you on this long journey? 
 Was it to see the final triumph of this holy war? 
 
 Juan Perez — No, I came to you, as hundreds daily come, a sup- 
 pliant. 
 
 Isabella — You, Father, a suppliant to me? 
 
 Jvan Perez — Yes, my child, a most confident suppliant. 
 
 Isabella — (Smiling) — Your confidence is not ill-placed, your 
 every wish is mine. Tell me. 
 
 Juan Perez — A fortnight ago, a stranger on foot, in humble 
 guise, but of a distinguished air stopped at the gate of the 
 convent and asked a bit of bread and water. Struck by his 
 appearance, I entered into conversation with him, and soon 
 learned his story. He possesses the knowledge and daring 
 to do for all the world what your illustrious Majesties have 
 done for Spain: to bring all the nations and tongues of the 
 earth under the Holy Cross. 
 
 Isabella^ — (Breathlessly) — Who is this man? 
 
 Juan Perez — Christopher Columbus. 
 
 Isabella — (Disappointed) — The Genoese sailor? 
 
 Juan Perez — I could not reconcile with your magnanimous char- 
 acter your failure to help this man, until I realized that you 
 turned him from you in the throes of war. 
 
 Isabella — We did not send him away, but told him we could not 
 consider his plans, until the war was ended. 
 
 Juan Perez — (Reproachfully) — Which was a starved reply to re- 
 ceive after three years of waiting. , 
 
 Isabella — Ah, I was sorry for him, and most interested in his vis- 
 
 17 
 
ions, but there was always the war to think of first and be- 
 si des^ 
 
 Juan Perez — Your husband, the king, did he object? 
 
 Isabella — (Hesitating) — He did not believe — the scheme — prac- 
 tical. The Archbishop and all the clergy talked of sacrilige. 
 And the learned Junto called Columbus a deluded visionary. 
 I alone believed. 
 
 Juan Perez — There is no sacrilege, my child, in seeking to know 
 the world G-od gave us, and as to visions — by visions were 
 the saints of old guided. 
 
 Isabella — I wish we had not let him go 
 
 Juan Perez — I knew you would wish that; so I brought him back 
 again, to claim your promise to hear him in a time of peace. 
 
 Isabella — Send him to me, Father. And let some one find the 
 king. It is a boisterous time for conference, but never mind 
 that. The Genoese has waited over long already. 
 (Juan Perez and messenger go off.) 
 
 (Enter Ferdinand under canopy. Pages carrying rug pre- 
 cede him. Lords enter. Isabella joins him on his rug beneath the 
 canoipy. Lords and Ladies arrange themselves on both sides of 
 king and queen. Enter Columbus, who kneels to their Majesties.) 
 Isabella — (To Ferdinand) — My lord, the war is today ended. 
 This is the time we promised to consider the project of this 
 Christopher Columbus. 
 Ferdinand — As you wish, though we can scarcely give him en- 
 coura'gement. The war indeed is ended, but the treasuries 
 of Castile and Aragon have not refilled. Could he but wait 
 a year or two, we should be better able to indulge him. 
 Columbus — I cannot wait another hour, your Majesty. I have 
 spent already the prime of my life in the anterooms of kings. 
 Three years have I waited for Spain. If she d'oes not now 
 put forth her hand to grasp the wealth of worlds, the oppor- 
 tunity will pass from her. 
 
 Ferdinand — The wealth of worlds! Your dream carries you far, 
 fellow. 
 
 Columbus — It is beyond the power of human dreams to picture 
 the boundless realms I offer you. Across the weltering ex- 
 panse of oceans, lie unlimited stores of giold, precious stones, 
 and rare spices. While John of Portugal sends expedition 
 after expedition to find a new and devious route to the opu- 
 lent commerce of India, I can make for you an easy road by 
 sailing straight ahead. Then will the treasures of the East 
 
 18 
 
pour in a golden tide into Spain. And Ferdinand and Isa- 
 bella shall gain the empire of the earth. 
 Ferdinand — But is this practical? How are you fitted to do this 
 
 thing? 
 Columbus — I am a sailor, sire, and a maker of maps and charts. 
 
 My whole life has been shaped to this one end. 
 Ferdinand — Perhaps it is not impossible. There are strange dis- 
 coveries in science every day. 
 Columbus — The commerce of the Orient shall be yours. Deep, 
 undiscovered forests shall yield you rare timbers. Heathen 
 kings in golden palaces shall call you over-lord. 
 Isabella — Then it is in search of visionary wealth that you would 
 
 sail forth over the waste of waters? 
 Columbus — The wealth is for Spain. I go to discover the dark 
 
 places of earth that they may be lighted. 
 I.sabella — (Leaning forward) — Tell me. 
 Columbus — God has chosen me to venture into the unknown, 
 
 that the cross may light the world. 
 Isabella — If you do not go, God's purpose will be unfulfilled, and 
 
 the darkness will prevail? 
 Columbus — I will go. His purpose cannot be unfulfilled. And I 
 had thought to have the help of your most Christian Majes- 
 ties in carrying out His mission. To add a whole world to 
 His church. 
 Isabella^ — We will do it. Is it not so, my lord? 
 Ferdinand — (Musing) — Portugal has ventured, why not Spain? 
 
 You are sure of reaching India? 
 Columbus — I am sure of reachinjg land, I believe it may be India. 
 Ferdinand — But suppose this land that you discover is only val- 
 ueless desert? 
 Isabella — The souls of the heathen, my lord, that will be better 
 
 than richest treasure. 
 Ferdinand — But India or not, there will no doubt be gold and 
 
 precious stones? 
 Columbus — I offer you a world. 
 Ferdinand — Let us give this fellow his ships. 
 Coliunbus — (Overcome) — God will bless your maejsties. 
 Isabella — And He will bless you, Christopher Columbus, for be- 
 ing firm of purpose and courageous of heart. 
 Ferdinand — Let our royal secretary make out the articles at once. 
 (A gentleman in attendance comes forward with writing ma- 
 terial.) What wage do you ask, Columbus? 
 Columbus — Wage? What wage? 
 
 Ferdinand — Yes, what recompense do you ask for your services? 
 It is a dangerous venture and we shall be willing to pay you 
 handsomely. 
 
 19 
 
Ooluiubus — (Proudly) — Your majesty would hire me as a com- 
 mon sailor? 
 
 Ferdinand — How else? 
 
 Ck>lumbus — I am here to treat of empires, and you talk to me of 
 wages. I discover a new world for you, and you discharge 
 the obligation with a single purse of gold. 
 
 Ferdinand — (Bewildered) — What did you expect? 
 
 Colunibus — I expect to be admiral and governor-general of the 
 lands which I discover. 
 
 Ferdinand — Impossible ! 
 
 Isabella — Why? 
 
 Ferdinand — He is not even of gentle birth. 
 
 Colunibus — Then, may it please your majesties, I decline your 
 proffered ships. (He goes off.) 
 
 Ferdinand — The fellow is miad. 
 
 Isabella — Is there no way to adjust matters? 
 
 Ferdinand — Not with such as he. 
 
 (He goes off in opposite direction.) 
 
 Isabella — (Sadly) — I had set my heart and hopes on this Colum- 
 bus. 
 
 Louis de St. Angel — I crave permission to speak, your majesty. 
 
 Isabella — Proceed, St. Angel. It will not be the first advice I 
 have received from those sane lips. 
 
 St Angel — Most gracious queen, do not be misled as to this man. 
 The glory of his project already lifts him to a plane above 
 us petty noblemen. What then shall we expect of him when 
 his great dream is realized? Then may kings and princes 
 be honored by knowing him and the palaces of nations be 
 illumined by his presence. Then may your majesty seek to 
 find some title worthy of his greatness. It is not for the 
 court of Spain to haggle terms with the discoverer of a 
 world. Rather should we rejoice that this man of all the 
 ages offers us a share in his vast venture. He holds out to 
 you the opportunity to be known forever more as the patron 
 saint of boundless hidden realms. And of all your glorious 
 undertakings that is the one upon which shall rest Isabella's 
 surest fame. 
 
 Isabella — But what if he fails? 
 
 St. Angel — It is not in failure that disgrace lies, but in striving 
 not. It is not the unachieved which dims our glory, but the 
 unattempted. More splendid far is he who labors, though 
 fruitlessly, for ships to brave the unknown in search of em- 
 pires than he who safely plies the charted seas on little 
 missions. 
 
 Isabella — You speak with true nobility, St. Angel, and shame my 
 timorous heart. But I hesitate to underitake a plan on which 
 
 20 
 
the noble Ferdinand looks with unconvinced coldness. 
 
 St. Angel — He will approve in time. 
 
 Isabella — How can I draw on an exhausted treasury for a mea- 
 sure to which he is averse? (She ponders deeply, St. Angel 
 watching with trembling anxiety. Then, her voice ringing.) 
 The king may answer for Aragon, I speak for Castile — I will 
 pledge my jewels and Columbus shall have his ships. 
 
 St. Angel — Illustrious Isabella! 
 
 Isabella — Send a courier to overtake Columbus. And, St. Angel, 
 dispatch an order to Seville for all articles requisite for the 
 voyage. Let a fleet be got in order at once. (St. Angel 
 goes off.) Leave me, noble lords and ladies. I would be 
 alone. (All go off. Isabella gazes before her in absorption.) 
 What a vision! What a vision! I see a great heathen con- 
 tinent coming to glorify God. I see wild forests felled to 
 build Him holy churches. I see chattering hordes of sav- 
 aig/es replaced by throngs singing Hallelujahs. I see hideous 
 idols overturned and the shining cross upraised. And some 
 will remember that Isabella helped Columbus, the true in- 
 strument. He shall be honored through all time as discov- 
 erer of dark places, bringer of light. And when fair cities 
 spring up in the wilderness, a grateful posterity shall name 
 some of them for him — Columbus. (G-oes off.) 
 
 INTERLUDE. 
 
 I. I. and C. — When the ships that bore Columbus had returned 
 again to Spain a mighty force was set in motion, which 
 gathered momentum even after Isiabella died, and Columbus 
 and Ferdinand. A new world now beckoned the adventurous. 
 
 PART I. 
 Scene 3. 
 
 (November 1540.) 
 
 CAST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 Daughter of the Chief. 
 
 Two Other Indian Girls. 
 
 Chief. 
 
 Runner. 
 
 Hernando de Soto. 
 
 Anasco. 
 
 Baltasar de Gallegos. 
 
 Luis de Mocosco. 
 
 Spanish Nobles of De Soto's Expedition. 
 
 Knights on horseback, foot-soldiers, and priests. 
 
 Indian Warrior*. 
 
 81 
 
PART I. 
 Scene 3. 
 
 (The daughter of the chief and two other Indian girls play 
 
 among the itrees. Shortly becoming tired, they drop, out of breath 
 
 and laughing, upon the grass.) 
 
 Daughter of Chief — Let us rest and tell a story 
 
 First Girl — Tell us ajgain our well-loved story, the tale of ancient 
 Nanih Waiya and how her children crept out to dry In the 
 sun. 
 
 Second Girl — Or the brave deeds of the famous Running Deer, 
 now long dead. 
 
 Daughter of Chief — This is talk worn with much telling. It has 
 lost flavour even as the corn of last summer grows dry and 
 tasteless through the long winter. Hear instead of newer 
 things, stranger than dreams in moonlight. 
 
 Both — What things? 
 
 Daughter of Chief — Lfast night when all the warriors sat about 
 the council fire, I came near to them, bringing the pipe of my 
 father, noble chieftain. The lire, red as winter sunset over 
 the river, burned before their eyes so they could not see me 
 coming among the tree-shadows. Then, so strange a thing 
 did the chief, my father, tell them that I stood still and list- 
 ened. From far away across the Big Waters in canoes as large 
 as temples has come a mighty white chief, Son of the Sun, 
 master of life. With him are pale-faced warriors bearing 
 flaming swords and riding upon devouring monsters. Where- 
 ever they pass, the warriors and chieftains must bow down 
 and worship tnem, and make great sacrifices to them, or 
 nothing in all the land can flourish, the corn in the spreading 
 fields will shrivel and the people will sicken and die like 
 fruit that the frost has blighted. The Son of the Sun is 
 braver than fifty Indian chiefts, the bravest of all tribes. He 
 and his warriors, wondrous pale-faces, are wrapped about 
 like the sun himself in shining rainment which no arrow can 
 pierce. 
 
 First Girl — Is this true talk? 
 
 Daughter of Clilef — The hunters brought the story. From the 
 Southern tribes they learned it, in the land of the mighty 
 Tuscaloosa. They in turn heard it from some far Eastern 
 people. 
 (An Indian runner crosses behind them from right to left.) 
 
 First Girl — Hush look! 
 
 (Runner returns, followed by chief and four warriors, who 
 
 advance to center of valley and squat in a circle on the ground. 
 
 The runner remains standing. The girls rise softly and steal be- 
 
 22 
 
hind the trees, where they stand listening intently.) 
 
 Chief — What news from our kinsmen, the tribe of Maubilians? 
 May the sun shine upon them and make their fields green 
 with waving corn. 
 
 Runner — Alas, great chief, the sun has hidden his face and all the 
 earth is in sadness. 
 
 Chief — Is there famine or sickness abroad in the country? 
 
 Runner — The Great Spirit has sent a fiercer grief than these. 
 Tuscaloosa and many thousand warriors lie dead on their 
 beautiful plains. 
 
 Warriors — Alas! Alas! 
 
 Runner — And the South wind blows through the blood-stained 
 ashes of Maubila. 
 
 Warriors — Alas! Alas! 
 
 Chief — H'ow could these things be? How could the unconquer- 
 able be conquered Has the long-dreaded Son of the Sun 
 come among us? 
 
 Runner — It is he. The white chief and his warriors came from 
 the land of the Sun, and made Tuscaloosa, the ever-free, a 
 captive. Made him ride at their heels in ignoble bondage, al- 
 though he had given them much tribute and kindesit hospi- 
 tality. Cruelty and insult they offered his warriors, proud 
 Maubilian braves. These things they did while talking peace 
 and giving gifts. And s'o the warriors gathered to meet them 
 at Maubila. There was wajged a mighty battle. The sun was 
 up when the first arrow flew, but the moon instead saw the 
 last Maubilian trampled down in the embers and the women 
 put in chains. No warrior fled from death, but each in his 
 nakedness stood against the sun-clad ones, waiting to be cut 
 in pieces and over-ridden by the stamping feet of the fierce 
 beasts. Even the boys and many women flung themselves in 
 the flames rather than flee or be taken. Of the captured 
 women one escaped to warn the Northern tribes that he 
 comes, the mighty destroyer. Son of the Sun! (Warriors 
 spring to their feet.) 
 
 A Warrior — I pant to lap his blood, Chief, or die like the brave 
 Tuscaloosa. ("Runner goes off right.) 
 
 Chief — Ah, no, impulsive brave, it is sin to lift the tomahawk 
 agaiinst the heaven sent. Let us instead smoke the peace 
 pipe with the pale faces, and hear their message from the 
 Great Spirit. For many moons I have heard of this De Soto. 
 It is said that the Great Spirit curses them who oppose him. 
 The Warrior — But if he comes upon the warpath, shall we not 
 fight him? 
 
 Chief — Make no talk of these things. We give him peace if lie 
 will take it. (Runner returns in great haste.) 
 
 23 .: 
 
Rimner — Great Chief, De Soto has crossed the creek. Look, 
 where he comes. 
 (Enter Hernando De Soto and knights in armor on horse- 
 
 bacli, followed by soldiers, priests, and Indians in chains and 
 
 heavily burdened. Prom oither side enter Indian warri'ors who 
 
 group themselves about the chief. Girls are hidden from De Soto 
 
 by this group. As the talk goes forward, some of the soldiers sit 
 
 upon the ground and gamble with rude cards.) 
 
 De Soto — I am the child of the Great Spirit. Noble chief, I com© 
 in search of riches. Give me (giold and precious gems and no 
 harm shall come to you, bmt hide these treasures from mo 
 and your nation shall perish. 
 
 Chief — Gold and gems? 
 
 (At a sign from De Soto, a knight shows him a gold cup and 
 
 a string of pearls, while all the Indians gather curiously about, 
 
 looking eagerly at the trinkets. The chief shakes his head.) 
 
 Chief — There is nothing like this in my country; but I have 
 heard my father, now dead for many winters, tell of a land 
 where men dig in the earth for a substance that Is yellower 
 than copper and softer. 
 
 De Soto — (Eagerly)— Yes, yes, that is gold. Where Is this 
 land? 
 
 Chief — -(Waving his arm to the West) — Far away toward the 
 setting sun, where our ancestors lived in the ancient days. 
 
 De Soto- — Then you can give me guides, who will lead me to this 
 country? 
 
 Chief — Many generations have passed away since the far-distant 
 time when we traveled that way. How can we guide you? 
 
 De Soto — You refuse then? 
 
 Chief — Your servants, O chief of palefaces, cannot refuse ito hear 
 your voice of command. 
 
 De Soto — Then give me guides and interpreters.. 
 
 Chief — They shall be yours, and if they know not the lonfe; jour- 
 ney to far-sought lands, at least they can show you paths of 
 easy-going through our own forests. 
 
 De Soto — We will go west but also north, for we must press In- 
 land. Send for the guides quickly. And I must have many 
 things for my soldiers who follow behind to replace their 
 losses by fire and battle. They are in need of much clothing 
 and food. Have your people bring skins and mantles to the 
 number of six hundred. 
 
 Chief — (Motioning warrior to him) — Let guides brinfe interpreters 
 
 come, and let others bring much raiment as the white chief 
 
 demands. The pale faces must not suffer even though the 
 
 Indians go naked through the winter. 
 
 De Soto — And food, chief, have them bring food! My army, 
 
 14 
 
th'oug'h much reduced stU numbers six hundred. Bring com 
 for men and Ivorses enough to last a month or more. 
 Chief — (Aside) — :\Iay the Great Spirit grant we do not suffer 
 
 famine for thisi! 
 De Soto — Brinjgi deer and possums, those juicy little dogs that do 
 not bark. Bring grapes and bags of walnuts — lall things to 
 support life. 
 fTilef — Go at once. Obey the white chief. (Warrior goes off.) 
 
 De Soto — (Calling after him) — And fish — I am very fond of fish. 
 
 f^ief — Of all that we have, you shall partake. But command the 
 sun to prosper our fields and fill again our empty store-huts. 
 
 De Soto — (Carelessly) — Oh, you will not starve. Trust an In- 
 dian to find food! (Turning, he spies the soldiers gambling.) 
 What have we here? I thought that all the cards had been 
 lost in the flames of Maubila. 
 
 Anasco — They have painted bits of parchment. 
 
 De Soto — Why, this is an ingenuity which applied to something 
 greater would be commendable. Let me see your cards. 
 (Soldier brings cards and sullenly hands them up for inspec- 
 tion. De Soto laughs immoderately.) Oh, we Spaniards! A 
 devilish lot are we. Our priests, when fire consumes the 
 holy bread and wine perforce serve us a dry mass, but when 
 the gamblers lose their tools they straightway make them 
 others. (Enter Indian men and old women, some bring bun- 
 dles of skins, some baskets of corn, one a flat basket heaped 
 with fish. They set them down before De Soto.) 
 
 Chief — We give of our little. Son of the Sun, that you and your 
 warriors may not want. 
 
 I>© Soto — (Very irritably, ignoring the chief) — Lay not those 
 things upon the ground. Lift them up. Lift them up. You 
 are to carry them for us. 
 
 <^lef — But you are going into a far country, mighty chief. 
 
 De Soto — All the more reason for needing stout Indians to carry 
 our burdens. 
 
 Chief — Do not take my people from the land of their birth. 
 
 De Soto — Only two hundred will I need, and a few of them will 
 I send back when I can catch fresh ones. 
 
 Chief — Must they wear chains like those others? 
 
 De Soto — Yes. (There rises a murmur among Indians, which the 
 chief stills with his hand.) 
 
 Chief — As the Great Spirit wills so must it be. (The bearers of 
 gifts take their places among the followers of De Soto.) 
 
 De Soto — In return for your favors, O wise chief, I have brought 
 you a plume and a scarlet blanket. (Presents them.) And 
 if you wish, one of these knights will dismount and let you 
 ride about upon his charger. 
 
Chief — The gifts I take with gratitude, but let your warrior re- 
 main upon his charger. Long have my people looked up to 
 me and honored me as I stood upon the earth. I think they 
 would not now honor nie more for sitting: above them on a 
 strange beast. 
 
 De Soto — As you please. 
 
 Chief — Will the grreat chief cross the river before the darkness 
 hides its treacheries? 
 
 De Soto — We have laboriously crossed it once this day. Tell me 
 not that a wanton curve brings it ajgjain across our path. 
 
 Chief— Over the little creek came the palefaces in the morning. 
 But the great river lies on ahead. 
 
 De Soto — What a land of rivers! (The chief's daughter drawn 
 by curiosity comes a few steps from her hiding-place. A 
 soldier spies her and whispers to De Soto, who looks at her 
 quickly.) Come here, beautiful brown girl! (She disap- 
 pears at once, and De Soto turns to the Chief.) 
 
 De Soto — Who is that girl? I want her to go along with us. 
 
 Chief — (Proudly) — She is a royal princess. Leave us, my daugh- 
 ter. 
 
 De Soto — But we must have her, and you may send a half dozen 
 other women to bear her company and cook for us and wait 
 upon us. Eh, Anasco? No more bread made by sifting 
 cmsihed corn through shirts of mail! These are women's 
 tasks. (As he speaks, a ripple of signals starting from the 
 chief has spread through the crowd of Indians, and the 
 bearers of skins, fish, etc., have dropped their burdens. Now, 
 on a sudden wild whoop from the chief, they flee yelling to 
 the woods. Tn an instant the soldiers spring to attention.) 
 
 De Soto — (Shouting) — After them. De G-allegos! Send a friendly 
 Indian to tell them not to take offence. We will not demand 
 their women. And you, Mocosco, ride back and nrge our 
 comrades forward. (De Gralleigos and Mocosco ride off, the 
 former stopping to grasp an Indian's chain and take him 
 along. ) 
 
 Anasco — Ah, Governor! Must we be always fighting? A weary, 
 blood-stained march Is ours. Many a poor Indian have we 
 slain and many a brave Spaniard lost these eighteen months 
 since we landed in Florida. 
 
 De Soto — It is the lot of the adventurer, Anasco; you did not .loin 
 this expedition for rest and ease. 
 
 Anasco — No. But all this shedding of blood seems useless. These 
 savages are simple souls. 
 
 De Soto — (Laughing) — Simple, yes — mark you how they think 
 me some near relation of their heathen god! 
 
 Anasco — Would it not be better to teach them of the holy church 
 
 26 
 
than deceive them with these superstitions? Would it not 
 be well to linger in this rich country and plant our Spanish 
 flag in the midst of a Spanish colony? If we make no stamp 
 of the royal seal upon the province, Portugal or some other 
 enterprising rival may claim it. 
 
 I>e Soto — But the treasure? 
 
 Anasco — The corn fields and fruit trees yield a certain treasure. 
 In seeking gold we but chase a receding phantom. 
 
 De Soto — And so you would have us turn farmers? 
 
 Anasco — It would be more worthy than this pushing on, on, at 
 any cost we know not whither. What irony that Christians 
 should mark their route across a land of savages with only 
 a trail of blood and desolation! And all because our fevered 
 eyes are fixed upon a igioldeu chimera. 
 
 De Soto — (Brooding) — Do not think me dead to these things, 
 Anasco. In the stillness of night when the rudest soldier 
 lies snoring, they rush upon my (throbbing brain. The ter- 
 rible price we pay rests heavier upon my soul than it can 
 upon yours. But there is no other way — we are a handful 
 of men alone in a vast country of howling savages. One 
 false step and they will tear us in pieces. I tell you, Mocosco, 
 we dare not be soft-hearted. And as for stopping or turning 
 back (proudly bracing his shoulders), they who follow De 
 Soto press on in spite of danger. We came for gold, and 
 gold we will find if we have to travel to the setting sun It- 
 self. De Soto will not go back to Spain laden only with tales 
 of misaccomplishment. Death itself, even in these wilds, 
 would be far better. (De Gallegos returns alone in great 
 excitement.) 
 
 De C.allegos — They had crossed the river, so I sent the friendly 
 Indian over in a canoe with offers of peace, as you told me. 
 
 De Soto — How did they receive him? 
 
 De Galloges — (Shuddering and placinig his band before his eyes) 
 — By the Holy Virgin, it was a horrid sight — they tore him 
 limb from limb before my eyes, and flung him in the yellow 
 current. 
 
 De Soto — Ah! These simple souls are savages after all, eh, An- 
 asco? We may have to fight to save our scalps. Let us go 
 forward and dispatch the business by daylight. Our forces 
 must be near at hand. (All go off.) 
 
 INTERIiUDE. 
 
 I. I. and C. — As Anasco feared, De Soto's harsh passage through 
 the land was fruitless. It faded, among the Indians, Into 
 shadowy tradition and was then forgotten altogether. It 
 was a century and a half before white men came to live even 
 
 27 
 
upon tlie Gulf Coast; and for yet another hundred years the 
 Choctaws and ithe Ohickasaws hunted the deer in the un- 
 broken forest between the Tombigbee and the Luxapalila. 
 But during this latter century in succession four white na- 
 tions claimed the land. 
 
 (The band plays strains of "The Marsellaise" as a French 
 soldier crosses at ithe rear, carrying a French flag; 'G-od Save the 
 King" as an English soldier crosses, carrying English flag; the 
 Spanish National Hymn as Spanish soldier crosses, carrying 'the 
 flag; and "Columbia, the Gem of Ocean" as a United States sol- 
 dier crosses, carrying the Stars and Stripes.) 
 
 PART I. 
 Scena 4. 
 
 (1800-1835) 
 
 CAST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 Choctaw Hunters. 
 
 Pioneers. 
 
 A Trader. 
 
 Pushmataha, a Choctaw Chief. 
 
 John Pitchlynn, a White Man Reared from Childhood In Choc- 
 
 itaw Tribe. 
 A Choctaw Warrior. 
 Choctaw Braves. 
 Tecumseh, a Shawnee Chief. 
 An Indian Messenger. 
 Gideon Lincecum, a Pioneer. 
 Settlers. 
 
 Silas McBee, an Early Settler. 
 Moshulitubbee, a Choctaw Chief. 
 A United States Commissioner. 
 Killihota. 
 An Old Woman, 
 
 PART I. 
 Scene 4. 
 
 (Enter a party of Choctaw hunters, one a little in advance of 
 others, bending down to examine the grass for traces of enemies 
 or game. From the opposite direction comes a white man in the 
 dress of a pioneer leading a little boy by the hand. He speaks 
 to the Indians and they give him directions as to the trails. One 
 of them turns back to show him the way. As the other Indians 
 stand looking after them, a trader comes up from South with a 
 heavily loaded pack-horse. The Indians surround him eagerly 
 and offer articles for barter faster than he can attend to them. 
 
 St 
 
When he continues his way, he leaves each with a bottle of whis- 
 key, a pistol, or some other article of a superior cilivization. The 
 Indians going off meet Pushmataiia, a Choctaw chief of magnific- 
 ent bearing, and John Pitchlynn, a white man in the dress of 
 an Indian.) 
 
 Indians — (Greeting them) — Great Chief! Powerful Pushmataha! 
 Pashinataha — May your swift arrows bring down many deer, my 
 
 brothers. 
 Pitchlynn — They all carry whiskey and fire-arms. The new 
 
 roads make our hunting grounds a hi^ghway for traders. 
 Pushniataha — Yes, the travelers pass back and forth through our 
 nation even as the birds hurry north and south with the 
 changing seasons. But few of the white men build their 
 nests here or linger among our wigwams. 
 (Enter a Choctaw warrior.) 
 Wari-ior — ^Most noble chief, from all the nation are coming the 
 warriors to the appointed council-tree to hear the talk of 
 Tecumseh. 
 Pushmataha — Is he near at hand? 
 
 (Warriors assemble.) 
 Warriors — Through the land of the Chickasaws has he ridden 
 with his ithirty mounted braves; and now, having crossed 
 Oktibbeha, that bloody barrier between nations, he, boo, ap- 
 proaches the council-oak. 
 All tlie Warriors— Tecumseh comes, mighty chief of Shawnees. 
 
 (Enter Tecumseh and his warriors.) 
 Puslimataha — From your great nation, O Tecumseh, has traveled 
 to our distant wigwams the fame of your feats in the buffalo 
 chase, your fierce bravery in battle, and your fiery-tongued 
 eloquence. Many moons have we been curious to see this 
 chief of the Shawnees. And now are we gathered here to 
 open our ears to your talk. 
 Tecuniseh — Mighty chief, powerful Pushmataha, my heart sings 
 with pride that you have heard of my deeds in the far-off 
 Northern countries. But let us make no talk until we have 
 warmed our blood with the sacred dance. (Warriors dance. 
 Then they seat themselves in a great circle on the ground, 
 with Tecumseh, Pushmataha, and John Pitchlynn at back.) 
 Teoumselx — (Risinjgi) — I am an Indian, and all my people are 
 Indians. It is our delight to roam the free forests killing 
 the wild deer and the great buffalo. We are a simple peo- 
 ple, contented with only those things which the Great Spirit 
 gives us, and caring not to make strange clothing and big 
 houses as the white man does. But we are a kindly people, 
 and we suffered our white brothers to come into our coun- 
 
 29 
 
try, build their roads through our hunting grounds. (The 
 warriors look at each other and nod significantly) and in all 
 things to do as they would. How have they repaid us? By 
 taking our lands from us and felling our vast forests. But a 
 little more, and the red man, like the negro, will be their 
 slave. The proudest Choctaw warrior will be made to dig 
 and to bend under cruel burdens. (Warriors nod gravely 
 and grunt.) O, brave Chootaws, return to your hunting. 
 Let not the cowardly white men make weak farmers of you. 
 Use not their base weapons, but rather the beautiful, singing 
 bow and the red scalping knife. Find food to eat and skins 
 to wear by killing beasts even as the Great Spirit has com- 
 manded. And let all the red men who are not cowards, 
 whether Shawnee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, or Creek go upon 
 the warpath together and free our forests from the Ameri- 
 cans. My prophet says the Great Spirit has promised that 
 not one of his children shall be slain, but that he will make 
 our victorious tomahawks glow with the blood of the white 
 man. (Tecumseh sits down amid a rnurmur of voices.) 
 
 Pitchlynn — (Rising) — O, my brothers, do not let the words of 
 the prophet deceive you. Remember the missionaries have 
 warned you against false prophets, to follow whose sayings 
 will lead to destruction. As to our being cowards, Tecujn- 
 seh, the Choctaws are too brave to fear a name. 
 
 Tecumseh — (Springing up) — You let this white man make talk 
 at an Indian council! 
 
 Pushmataha — Say no word against our brother, Tecumseh. 
 
 Tecumseh— I bow my head to the will of the noble Pushmataha. 
 But look you, warriors, this paleface speaks of your being 
 too brave to fear the name of coward. That may be. But 
 are you brave enough to have all the Indians in this great 
 country call the Choctaws traitors and unite to destroy you 
 utterly? And are you rich enough to refuse the present 
 which the King of Eniglland will give for each scalp of a 
 Tombigbee settler? 
 
 Pushmataha — (Rising) — You have heard the talk of Tecumseh, 
 O my people. You have heard him, how he declared the 
 raising of corn in fields an occupation unworthy of Indians. 
 He does not know as you and I do that the Choctaws have 
 always planted seed and gathered harvest since the days of 
 ancient memory before the white man came. You have 
 heard him, how he said the white men took the lands of the 
 Shawnees, but you have not heard him tell that the Great 
 Father in Washington paid a fair price for these lands. You 
 have heard him, how he asked us to stain our tomahawks 
 
 30 
 
•with the blood of our white friends for the salte of presents 
 from a white king who is not our friend. And mighty war- 
 riors, descendants of great Chahta, you have heard him say 
 that we must join his wicked plot or be punished. I know 
 you too well to think you will be influenced by the threats 
 of this Tecumseh. Let us hear no more of his base talk. 
 (Silence during which warriors shake their heads and whis- 
 per. At a gesture from Pushmataha, Tecumseh and his 
 warriors rise and go off.) 
 Tecumseh — (Turning back with menacing motions) — Your blood 
 is white. You are afraid. The Great Spirit is angry. When 
 I get back to Detroit, 1 shall stamp my foot and shake down 
 every hut in your nation. 
 
 (Indians divide in groups at back to talk, some walk among 
 trees, others sit on ground. Pitchlynn goes off. Enter two trav- 
 elers at front of hillock, where they can not see Indians. They 
 cross, talklnjg;. As they pass on, the sound of their vioces dying 
 out in the wood, there enters the Indian who guided the Pioneer to 
 South.) 
 Indian Messenger — The Muskogees have massacred all at Fort 
 
 Minis. (Warriors gather about quickly.) 
 Piishmatalia — You know Tecumseh. He is a bad man, but he 
 could not turn our heads. But he got the Muskogees to join 
 him. You know the people at Minis Fort. They were our 
 friends. They played ball with us. They shared their food 
 with us. Where are they now? Their bodies rot at Sam 
 Mini's place. The Muskogees mean to kill all our white 
 friends. You are free men. I dictate to none. But I go to 
 the defense of our friends. If you follow me, I will lead you 
 to glory and to victory. 
 A Waii-ior — (Slapping his breast) — 1 am a man! I am a man! 
 I will follow you! 
 
 (One after another the rest slap their breasts, all shouting. 
 They go off, Pushmataha leading them. Enter Gideon Lincecum, 
 in dress of a pioneer, walking beside a wagon loaded with mater- 
 ials for a log hut. He looks about him, selects a site for the 
 building, secures his horse to a tree and goes off. He returns 
 immediately followed by three or four Indians, who help him 
 build his house. Indians unload his articles for fitting up a store, 
 boxes, kegs, bolts of cloth, etc. They enter house, and deposit 
 burdens. Lincecum comes out and looks about him.) 
 
 Lincecum Nice, dry bluff; woods full of deer and turkeys; plenty 
 
 of Chootaws across the river to buy my goods; one other 
 settler here already and more comimg now I'll be bound. 
 
 31 
 
(He opens a box and sells to Indians as a white settler ap- 
 proaches.) 
 Settlei' — Are you Gideon Lincecum? 
 ijiicecum — I am. 
 
 Settler — Then we are to be neighbors. My lot joins yours. Will 
 you sell me a hammer and saw? 
 
 (Goes off, and almost at once the sound of his hammer and 
 saw is heard. Other settlers, some in pioneer dress, others more 
 prosperously attired and accompanied by negroes come in quick 
 succession, obtain tools from Lincecum, and the noise of build- 
 ing becomes almost deafening. Indians watch curiously. Push- 
 mataha enters front, and stands leaning against tree, looking on. 
 Pitchlynn comes in, stO'PS ait store to talk to Lincecum and two 
 citizens, Silas McBee, and another. 
 
 Pitclilynn — I heard some news as I came over the ferry. 
 Lincecum — How was that, Jack? 
 
 Pitchlynn — A traveler said we are in the new state of Mississippi 
 and not of Alabama. (Chorus of surprise.) He was a bit 
 insulting about your little village here. 
 Lincecum — (Indignantly) — He was? 
 Pit<'hlynn — Nearly laughed himself to death when I told him it 
 
 was named "Possum Ridg-e." 
 McBee — Well, come to think of it, that is a pretty poor name. 
 (Hammers and saws heard without.) Here, stop your work! 
 Come here, everybody! (All the men enter, tools in hand, 
 talking eagerly. They are followed by their wives and chil- 
 dren. McBee raps for silence.) Citizens of Possum Ridge, 
 you are called together to choose a better name for your 
 town. What do you say to naming it for the man that dis- 
 covered America — Christopher Columbus? 
 All — Columbus! Columbus! 
 
 (Enter negro, carrying U. S. mail-bag, which he hands to 
 Lincecum.) 
 
 McBee — Three cheers for the first postmaster. (Citizens igive 
 cheers as Lincecum opens bag and distributes the mail. A 
 bell sounds.) 
 McBee — The bell of Franklin Academy. Now he have a name, a 
 post office, and a public school, what more could we want? 
 Settler — Homes, and churches, Silas, therefore let us go back to 
 work. 
 
 (All citizens except McBee and one other go off. Pitchlynn 
 joins Pushmataha and they fall into a friendly conversation. 
 Moshulitubbee, a young chief, comes in and buys a drink from 
 Lincecum, tosses it off, and holds out the glass for another.) 
 Lincecum — 'Tubbee, you have had enough. Pushmataha, you 
 
 32 
 
and Jack, come here, and reason with this Indian. 
 (Pushmataha and Pitchlynn join group in front of store.) 
 ritchlynn — Do not drink moi'e than is good for you, Moshulitub- 
 
 bee. 
 >8o.shulitul>bee — Pitchlynn, my white brother, it is easy to tell 
 
 another when he has had enough. 
 IJncecuin — Look here, 'Tubbee, if you drink this red pepper, you 
 
 will never want any more whiskey. 
 Mojsliulitubbee — Never ? 
 Liijcecuni — Yes. 
 
 ( Moshul'itubbee, taking the cup from him, drinks it slowly, 
 miaking fearful grimaces, to the unconi rolled amusement of his 
 white spectators, at which Pushmataha again withdraws from 
 the group looking very sad. He is joined by Pitchlynn and Mush- 
 ulitubbee, as citizens go off laughinig, Lincecum enters his store. 
 Enter a U. S. Commissioner, his assistant, and a great number of 
 Indian warriors. Two of the Indians bring in and place on the 
 \gTound a bench for the U. S. officials, and then all seat them- 
 selves in a semi-circle facing it. Pushmataha and Pitchlynn sit 
 at the left of bench and Mushulitubbee at right. Old women sit 
 on the ground in the middle of the circle.) 
 Pushmataha — Do you bring us a message from the Great Father 
 
 at Washington? 
 Oomiuissioner — That I do, Brother Push. I have been 
 sent to make an offer to your chiefs and nation. The Great 
 Father knows what is good for his beloved Choctaw children 
 and he wants to give you a big hunting-ground beyond the 
 Mississippi river, a land of tall trees, many water-courses, 
 and high grass. This rich country will he give you in all 
 its broadness in exchange for that little slip of land where 
 you now live. But sign this paper (Exhibits treaty) and 
 you shall have a vast country where the white man shall not 
 come nor the white man's laws hang over you. (Sits down.) 
 Pushmataha — (Rising) — Much wishing, O my brother, will lead 
 the tongue into stranigie errors. This home of our ancestors, 
 this land of ancient memories, is no mere slip of worthless 
 country but a broad and fair expense. And that western 
 land, the hunting-ground beyond the Father of Waters, al- 
 though it is extensive is not so rich as my white brother 
 paints it. 1 have chased the Ovashsashi over those endless 
 plains and I know full well the treeless, trackless deserts 
 with their meager grass. 
 Commissioner — But look upon this map. Brother Push, what a 
 Pushmataha — (Looking at map intently) — This paper is not 
 GREAT country you will have. 
 
 33 
 
true. The Red River does not run so — but so (stooping to 
 mark on the ground with the handle of his pipe-hatchet. 
 The Commissioner and his assistant exchange glances.) 
 Coininissioner — You are mistaken. 
 
 Moshiilitubbee — Let us all smoke tobacco. (Pushmataha lights 
 and takes a whiff at his silver-mounted pipe-hatchet, and 
 passes it to the Commissioner. As it goes on around he 
 starts a heavy staff on the circut in the opposite direction.) 
 Fii.»iliinataha — Let those who wish to sell our country beat upon 
 the ground. (The staff passes from hand to hand until it 
 reaches Killihota. ) 
 Killihota — (Giving it a heavy thud upon the ground before pass- 
 ing it on) — I am f'cr selling the country. 
 An Old Woman — (Springing to her feet and screaminjg.) — Killi- 
 hota, KiHJhota, you are a villian! You have two hearts! 
 Killihota — (Cringing, mutters) — You may cut me open and you 
 shall see that 1 have but one heart and that for my people. 
 (The staff has reached Mushultubbee now w'thout beinig, 
 again struck on the earth.) 
 Conunis-sioner — (Angrily) — And so you refuse? I am to tell the 
 
 Great Father you do not want his liindness? 
 ru.shmatalia — Go not in anger to our Great Father bearing tales 
 against us. I have visited him in his big white house; and, 
 with his five fingers locked in my five fingers, received the 
 piedge of his friendship. Surely he will not be angry that 
 his children in their simplicity cling to their homes, where 
 tihe bones of their fathers lie buried. Since the days be- 
 yond the memory of our nation have v/e dwelt here, our feet 
 skimming the grassy plains and the intricate trails of the 
 forest, our sharp arrows humming through the open places, 
 and our ears rejoicing in the familiar murmur of the pines 
 and the deep music of our Tombigbee. When the palefaces 
 came into our land, we opened our hearts to them. They 
 slept in our huts and ate of our venison. And never, in all 
 our traditions, did a Choctaw lift tomahawk in anger against 
 his white brother. It is not long since we went upon the 
 war-path to save his life. 
 Conunissioner — Stay here then, if that is your wish, until the 
 white men over-run all the country, crowding you out and 
 making you paupers. Stay here under the white men's laws, 
 which will not even let you have chiefs within your tribe. 
 Stay here and when you are homeless and in great distress, 
 you may call on the President for help but he will turn a 
 deaf ear to your lamentations and laugh at your calamities. 
 (Indians all moan with terror.) 
 
 84 
 
Old Woman — In our old age are we to be driven from our homes? 
 
 Commissioner — If anyone wishes to stay here and live as the 
 white man, he will be given land for himself, his wives and 
 his children, but all who live as Indians must go. Do you 
 want the soldiers to come and drive you out, or will you 
 sign? (Shakes treaty. Moaning increases, and all war- 
 riors come up to sign.) 
 
 Pushmataha — (Standing apart) — In the morning of life, great 
 Chahta led our forefathers toward the rising sun. Many 
 centuries have passed since ithen. And now we must turn 
 toward the setting sun and retrace that weary Tvay. (He 
 goes off, followed by all the Indians except three yountg) 
 ones.) 
 
 Commissioner — Leaps upon bench, rings a bell, and cries out in 
 auction style) — I will sell by public outcry all the lands of 
 the Choctaws. (Settlers and pioneers crowd on and sur- 
 round him.) What am I offered for a quarter section, rich 
 prairie land, fronting the Tombigbee? What am I offered? 
 What am I offered? (Rings bell and spectators bid eagerly. 
 Indian, carrying a bundle of sticks, gains his attention.) No 
 time to register Choctaws with a family of that size. (Takes 
 the bundle of sticks and shows it to the crowd, who laugh 
 and jeer.) What am I offered? Going — going, etc. (After 
 eoncluding the auction which proceeds with much excite- 
 ment.) Ladies and gentlemen, I am requested to announce 
 that no more log houses are to be built in the town of Col- 
 umbus. (All cheering and shouting "The Log House must 
 go," surround the l0(g' house, knock it down and carry off 
 the pieces.) 
 
 INTERIiUDE. 
 
 (Enter Spirit of History who gives interpretive dance, "Lo! 
 the Paleface.") 
 
 I. I. and C. — It was thus the young Columbus had her beginning. 
 And so brilliant was her early C9.reer it seemed she was the 
 favored child of fortune. I have even heard it said that fairy 
 godmothers must have hovered near when she was christened. 
 (Enter the fairy godmothers of Columbus, dressed alike in 
 robes and flowing head-dresses of gray. Good Government car- 
 ries the fasces, Roman symbol of governmental authority; Edu- 
 cation, a flaming silver torch, and Prosperity, a golden cornucopia 
 full of fruit, flowers, and coins.) 
 
 Good Government — Was ever such another as our god-child, Col- 
 umbus? 
 
 S6 
 
Education — I am sure there never was such a beauty and such 
 
 precocity. 
 
 (From far away there comes the sound of a voice of surpass- 
 ing sweetness singing.) 
 
 Prosperity — It is she, our beloved god-child. May she ever be as 
 sweet and joyous! 
 
 Good Goveminent — How happy are we, sisters, to be able to 
 sihower gifts upon her! I, Good Government, have endowed 
 her with lofty ideals of leadership and made her a common- 
 wealth above reproach. Broad streets and spacious homes 
 were in my dream for her. The realization of these things 
 came close upon the heels of wishing. Now I am wondering) 
 what new gift to choose? Does it puzzle you, too. Educa- 
 tion ? 
 
 Education — It does. Good Government, my first gift to her. 
 Franklin Academy, is a possession she treasures so highly 
 that I must needs fill the town with cultured people to outdo 
 myself. 
 
 Good Governments — And you, Prosperity? 
 
 ProsperKJy — Each day I shed countless new blessings upon her. 
 I made her far-flung acres white with cotton, then brought 
 steamboats for her commerce. Soon I shall give her rail- 
 roads. Such wealth have I already poured about her that 
 she knows no cordid care and may spend her days in pursuit 
 of all that is beat in life. 
 
 Tlie Distant V^oice — (Singing) — 
 
 (The godmothers go off as if impelled toward the singer by 
 
 the radiance of her sing.) 
 
 Sf 
 
PART n. 
 
 Scene 1. 
 
 (Autumn 18 60- January 11, 1861.) 
 CAST OF SPEAKING CHARACTERS. 
 
 Mammy Louisa. 
 
 A Negro Driver. 
 
 Passie Butler. 
 
 Clara Shields. 
 
 Major Blewett. 
 
 Colonel Young. 
 
 Two Young Men. 
 
 Two Matrons. 
 
 A Young Lady. 
 
 A Younig Gentleman. 
 
 Another Gentleman. 
 
 Wash Whitfield, a coachman. 
 
 Governor Whitfield. 
 
 Senator Jefferson Davis. 
 
 Turner Sykes. 
 
 William Humphries. 
 
 Regina Harrison. 
 
 CAST OF NON-SPEAKING CHARACTERS. 
 Negro Servants. 
 
 Colonel Isham Harrison. 
 
 L. Q. C. Lamar. 
 
 Governor John J. Pettus. 
 
 William S. Barry. 
 
 Charles L. Lincoln. 
 
 Willie Williams. 
 
 Richard Evans. 
 
 Colonel W. C. Richards. 
 
 Colonel Beverly Matthews. 
 
 Judge William L. Harris. 
 
 Major Ethel Barksdale. 
 
 William Barksdale. 
 
 Colonel John Gilmer. 
 
 Colonel John T. Cornwell. 
 
 Charles Baskelville. 
 
 Jeptha V. Harris. 
 
 George R. Clayton. 
 
 Amzi Love. 
 
 McKinney Irion. 
 
 Many other citizens and ladies of Columbus. 
 
 Columbus Riflemen, with C. H. Abert as captain. 
 
 Lowndes Southrons, with Wm. B. Wade as captain. 
 
 Sam Harris. 
 
 S7 
 
 'Citizens of ColumDus 
 
PART II. 
 Scene 1. 
 
 (Four or five young negro boys and girls come brislcly on, 
 carrying large baskets covered with white napkins. After depos- 
 iting these with much care up'on the igiround, they refresh them- 
 selves further with song and dance. They are interrupted 
 by the appearance of a sleek, well-conditioned negro Mammy, 
 who bears in her arms two white babies, evidently twins.) 
 Mamniy — Fo' de Lawd's sake! Look at dem no'count niggers! 
 Ef I wa'nt so pitiable, I'd sho' cuss you out, you wuthless 
 black rascals! Heah you is, sont to carry de bread an' cakes 
 to de bobby-cue, a-stoppin' to play on de road! The cul- 
 prits take up their baskets and sneak off.) Dat's what's de 
 matter wid dese Columbus niggers — just nachelly spoiled 
 rotten. Dey ain't been a nigger whipped on our place in six 
 months. (A wagon loaded with bales of cotton comes by, 
 and its driver makes a gesture of salutation.) Good mawn- 
 ing. Dat's fine cotton! 
 Driver — (Stopping) — Fine yer say? Dis heah cotton is de fnes' 
 
 cotton in Lawndes county. 
 Mammy — Humph. Who rais' it? 
 
 Driver — Dis was rais' right out heah, on de Billups place, 
 and (impressively) hit tuk de blue ribbon at de fair, what 
 I'm talkin' about. 
 Mammy — Humph. 
 
 Driver — I reckon you all didn't get no prizes. 
 Mammy — Elevating the twins for inspection — I reckon you 
 ain't heard about Marse Alexander Hamilton's gettin' two 
 prizes for his fine sons, Marse William Baskerville and Marse 
 George Young. 
 Driver — Weil, I'll be gettin' on. Good mawnin'. 
 Mammy — Good mawnin'. 
 
 (Miss Passie Butler in fashionable dress shadinjgJ herself 
 with a bright-colored parasol passes the out-going team and 
 acknowledges the driver's 'Good mawnin', young Mistis" with a 
 gracious inclination of the head.) 
 Passie Butler — How do you do. Uncle? Good morning. Mammy. 
 
 How are the prize boys today? 
 Mammy — (Bowing and courtesying as well as her bulk and her 
 double burden will permit) — Dey's well, thank ye ma'am, 
 dey's well. 
 
 (Passie Butler passes on, meeting Clara Shields.) 
 Passie Butler — La, Clara, I was beginning to think you hadn't 
 
 88 
 
got my note. 
 Clara Shields — Why, am I late? 
 
 (Major Blewett, an elderly gentleman of courtly bearing, ap- 
 proaches. The young ladies courtesy to him.) 
 Major Blewett — Young ladies, good morning. It would be pro- 
 fanation to ask after your health when your cheeks are so 
 blooming. 
 Both — Ah, Major Blewett. 
 
 (Major Blewett joins Colonel Younigi, who has just entered 
 right front. They shake hands.) 
 
 Major Blewett — Even the charms of VVaverly, Colonel Young, 
 cannoit hold you when there is a prospect of hearing Jeffer- 
 son Davis sipeak? 
 Colonel Voung — i would, sir, travel almost any distance to hear 
 our eloquent senator, particularly when the occasion will 
 bring together my friends from ail over the county. 1 have 
 arranged to have my young friend Lamar speak here today, 
 as you doubtless know. 1 am deeply interesLed in his future. 
 (Two young men on horseback surrounded by a pack of fox- 
 hounds enter, dismount, and join the young ladies with the prop- 
 er exchange of courteous greeting. The horses are led off by ne- 
 groes. A gay throng now assembles in groups of two or three. 
 There is seen a sligiit disposition of the younger ito gather to- 
 eiether, and of the older to seek their kind, but much laughter 
 and easy talk goes on from group to group as of a people happy 
 in each other's society. The gentlemen old and young, wearing 
 shawls and tall hats of the day, go abouit greeting the new arriv- 
 als. Above the hum of voices, in the interstices of laughter, are 
 heard from various quarters scraps of conversation.) 
 
 A GROUP OP MATRONS. 
 First — I was delayed by the coming of a wagon with supplies 
 
 from the plantation. 
 Second — Giving orders about ithe supper for the dance kept me. 
 
 No matter how often 1 entertain it flurries me to plan a 
 
 supper for three hundred. 
 First — The idea! The darkies can always eat what's left. 
 
 TWO YOUNG MEN. 
 Fh'st — You did not join the fox-hunt? 
 
 Second — I itake little pleasure in hunting since I lost my horse. 
 First — He was a fine animal, indeed, but surely your father's 
 stables would afford another good mount? 
 
 A GROUP OF OLDER MEN. 
 Major Blewett — Shall you plant much cotton next spring, Sir? 
 
 39 
 
Colonel Young — I hope to have five hundred acres under cultiva- 
 tion, Sir. 
 
 Another Gentleman — What a rich country this is, to be sure! 
 The railroad makes its prospects practically limitless. 
 
 A GROUP OF YOUNG LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. 
 Young (jientlenien — Not dance the new dances! 
 Young Liaily — (Primly)— My father disapproves of the waltz and 
 
 polka. 
 Clara Sliields — Don't you wish they would come on? I wonder 
 what can be keeping them. I have never seen Senator Davia. 
 Muniphi-ies* — Have you noit? Then you are fortunate to be here. 
 
 Jefferson Davis is the man of the hour. 
 Clara Shields — Here they come at last! I see Governor Whit 
 field's horses. 
 
 (The carriage comes in front of hillock, plainly visible to au- 
 dience but not to all on stage. As the carriage, in which the Jeffer- 
 son Davis, Governor Pettus, L. Q. C. Lamar, and Governor Whit- 
 field, Col. Isham Harrison, Miss Callie Harrison, comes in sight 
 there is much applause. When this subsides. Wash, the negro 
 coachman, his face radiant, turns round.) 
 
 Wash — Marse Colonel, sence dese hawses tuk de blue ribbon at 
 de fair, de folks sho' does appreciate 'em. 
 (The carriage proceeds to rear of valley, its distinguished 
 inmates, still laughing at the coachman's error but bowing grac- 
 iously from side to side in acknowledgment of the continued ap- 
 plause. The occupants alight and are greeted with much bow- 
 ing and handshaking by the most prominent citizens. Governor 
 Whitfield assumes the center of interest and the people become 
 instantly quiet.) 
 
 Governor Whitfield — It is my pleasure to introduce this morning 
 to the beauty and chivalry of Lowndes County assembled 
 here at Columbus, a great Mississippi statesman. It were 
 needless, before this audience, to dwell upon his claims to 
 greatness; for there is not one among us but knows his bril- 
 liant history. Nor is it in my humble power to add one leaf 
 to the wreath of laurel upon the brow of this student, sol- 
 dier, orator, statesman. Without further speech therefore, I 
 present to you the Hero of Buena Vista, Senator Jefferson 
 Davis. 
 Jefferson Davis — (When the tumult of applause has subsided and 
 the bouquets of fiowers thrown to him have been gathered 
 up) — People of Columbus, Mississippians, I am come amonig 
 you to sound the rallying trumpet — call to action, to warn 
 all voters of the importance of their duty in the coming 
 
 40 
 
presidential election. It is tlie belief of Abi-aham Lincoln, 
 the Republican candidate, that the great issue of the nation 
 must now be settled peacefully at the polls or by such dia- 
 bolical measures as those by which John Brown stained the 
 soil of Virginia with blood. Lincoln's election will mean but 
 one thing, a declaration of national hostility toward the 
 South and her institutions. 
 
 There are none more proud than Southerners of the 
 achievements of this nation. We glory in the fact that we 
 have tamed a wilderness and spanned a continent in the 
 strength of our union. But if that day arrives when this 
 union would deprive us of our due, then must we sadly sever 
 our connection with it. We but ask that the government 
 abide by that law supreme to all Americans, that compact 
 freely entered into by sovereign states, that fixed standard 
 set up for us by our fathers — the Constitution of the United 
 States. It were idle to prate of natural rights whiie stands 
 that great organ with its protecting measures. The wise 
 statesmen who framed it understood the different interests 
 of the planting and navigating states, as they were then 
 called, and formed a government for all. But now if one 
 section, placed in power by weight of numbers, 
 swayed by fanaticism, seek to wreck the interests of the 
 other, then is the compact broken. If the hurricane of aboli- 
 tion, sweeping before it right and justice, cause the temple 
 of our fathers to totter on its pillars, we must seek a place 
 of safety or be crushed beneath the gieneral ruin. 
 
 If Mississippi in her sovereign capacity decides to submit 
 to the dictation of a base and arrogant foe, then will I sit 
 me down as one upon whose brow the brand of infamy and 
 degradation has been stamped. But if Mississippi decides 
 to resist then, if need be, 1 will gather around me her brave 
 and resolute sons; and, planting her flag upon the crest of 
 battle and making a few small hillocks upon her border, 
 wait the reception of the vandal horde. 
 
 Goveraor Whitfield— Since our other speakers, Mr. L. Q. C. La- 
 mar and Governor Pettus, insist that we do not urge them 
 to speak immediately following the Senator, we will defer 
 their speeches until after our barbecue dinner. 
 (The guests return to the carriage and are driven off to left, 
 
 followed by the crowd unmistakably subdued by Davis' speech.) 
 (Turner Sykes and another young man talking earnestly, 
 
 meet William Humphries.) 
 
 William Humphries — Mississippi has seceded! 
 
 Turaer Sykes — Are you sure? 
 
 41 
 
William Humphries — The news came over the wires from Jackson. 
 There can be no doubt of it. 
 
 (Others gather excitedly from all sides, one bringing a news- 
 paper which he hands to the first speaker.) 
 
 1 UMier Sykes — (Reading) — Mississippi Secedes. Convention 
 votes 84 to 15 in favor of ordinance. Jackson, Mississippi, 
 January 9, 1861. — In the hall of the House of Representa- 
 tives, with William S. Barry of Lowndes County presiding, 
 the Mississippi Convention passed an ordinance to dissolve 
 the union between herself, and the other United States. At 
 roll call, James L. Alcorn, who had ardently opposed un- 
 qualified secession, responded with much feeling, "Mr. Pres- 
 ident, the die is cast, the Rubicon is crossed; I follow the 
 army that igioes to Rome; I vote for the ordinance." When, 
 before adjournment, President Barry unfurled the new flag 
 of the young republic, a blue flag bearing a single star, 
 there was great applause in the convention and audience. 
 (The men go off talking excitedly and crowding to read from 
 the paper. From a distance is heard a chorus, "The Bonnie Blue 
 Flag." Enter Governor Whitfield on foot, followed by Wash, his 
 coachman, who, in turn, is followed by two negroes leading the 
 carriage horses, still in harness but without the carriage.) 
 Wash — (Desperately) — Fo' de Lawd's sake, Marse Guv'nor, don't 
 let mistis send mah hav/ses to de war! Ain't dey de prize 
 hawses ob de county? W'hat'U de chullin do? Gib 'em all 
 we got, Marse Colonel, but don' gib' 'em Chat an' Chunk. 
 Don take mah hawses. 
 
 (Governor Whitfield will not heed and they pass off. Enter 
 ter all the young ladies to sew on the flags. Negroes bring 
 benches for them. The sewinigi begins amid cries of "Where are 
 my&cissors?" "Who has my thread?" and "I can't find my thim- 
 ble." When possessions are finally in their places, conversation 
 becomes fore distinct.) 
 Clara Shields — I suppose we shall never have another dance while 
 
 the boys are gone. 
 Regina HaiTison — O, Clara, how can you talk of dances now? 
 Clara Shields — Well, we shan't have to be sad long, for everyone 
 says the war will be over in itwo months. And then think 
 what heroes the Columbus boys will be! 
 Passie Butler — If only Dr. Lyon could be persuaded to pray for 
 
 victory! But he just won't do it. 
 Clara Shields — Does he want us to be defeated? 
 Passie Butler — I only know he won't pray foir victory. 
 Kegrina Hai'rison — Don't you feel sorry for the boys who are not 
 going? They say they know it will be over before they can 
 
 42 
 
get companies formed and accepted. 
 Colonel Young — (Entering) — Are the busy finigers making uni- 
 forms for our boys? 
 Reglna HaiTison — Oh no, Sir. We are making their flags! But 
 you are not wearing a cocliade. (She gets uip to pin a blue 
 cockade on his coat.) What time is it, please, Sir? (The 
 Colonel shows her his watch.) O, girls, we must hurry. It 
 is time for them to come. 
 
 (The girls rise, still sewing. The negroes carry out the 
 benches. Matrons and older men wearing cockades assemble. 
 The band plays "Dixie" and some of the women touch their hand- 
 kerchiefs to their eyes. At the sound of marchinig feet, all with- 
 draw from center and encircle valley. Enter two military com- 
 panies: Columbus Riflemen and Lowndes Southrons, with C. H. 
 Albert and Wm. B. Wade as captains. The band continuing to 
 play, the companies at command mavcli abreast down center, 
 by fours up side, etc., coming to pause in two long lines facing 
 left. Here they go through a small part of the manual of arms. 
 Then Passie Butler and Clara Shields, bearing fla^gis, come for- 
 ward and face them. The crowd sings "Dixie.") 
 Passie Butler — (Lifting flag) — To show our pride in you we 
 have made this flag. Whenever you look upon it, think 
 first of the splendid cause it typifies, and next of how you 
 came to have it. If you have these two thoughts ever with 
 you, you will bear yourselves most nobly, for nothing short 
 of the greatest nobility would be worthy of the cause or 
 justify our pride in you. (Presents flag to Sam Harris.) 
 Clara Shields — May defeat never dim these silken folds. (Pre- 
 sents flag to Beverly Wade.) 
 
 (The band plays "Maryland, My Maryland," and the soldiers 
 march off single file amid bravely cheerful faces and waving hand- 
 kerchiefs; but when the last soldier is out of the valley and the 
 music is dying away the smiles fade and there is the suggestion 
 of tears. All turn sorrowfully and go off in the opposite direc- 
 tion.) 
 
 INTERLUDE. 
 
 Sj-mpathy — Don't tell about the war, Alma Mater. It always 
 wrings my heart. 
 
 Others — Oh, yes; tell it. 
 
 I. I. and C. — The invaders never reached Columbus; but, through 
 those weary years, the waiting women here foujg'ht out their 
 bloodless battles against weakness and cowardice. Often 
 however they smiled, sometimes danced, and once in a way 
 there was a wedding. 
 
 48 
 
PART II. 
 Scene 2. 
 
 CAST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 Allen Harrison, a little boy. 
 Mary Harrison, a little girl. 
 Mrs. James T. Harrison. 
 
 Mary Askew. 
 Passie Butler. 
 Sue Dabney. 
 Annie Fort. 
 Sallie Martin. 
 Theodosia Odeneal. 
 Ozie Topp. 
 Ellen Williams. 
 Lu Young. 
 
 Bridesmaids 
 
 General Jackson. 
 Joseph W. Martin. 
 Lieutenant Price. 
 Captain Sanders. 
 Captain Sandig. 
 J. F. Weissinger. 
 Hon. B. Yancy. 
 
 IG 
 
 roomsmen 
 
 Bishop Green, 
 
 G-eneral Stephen D. Lee, the groom. 
 Regina Harrison, the bride. 
 
 GUESTS AT WEDDING. 
 
 General Buford. 
 Dr. Fenton McCabe. 
 General Ross. 
 Mrs. Benoit. 
 Mrs. Crusoe. 
 Irene Crusoe. 
 Fannie Clayton. 
 Louise Dickinson. 
 Fannie Evans. 
 Mrs. Lucy Pendergast. 
 Bessie Harris. 
 Augusta Sykes. 
 Mrs. Peters. 
 Mrs. James W. Sykes. 
 Annie Turner. 
 Mrs. Woolridge. 
 
 44 
 
Mrs. Laura Young Whitfield. 
 
 Mrs. Williams. 
 
 Judge Clayton. 
 
 Major Turner Sykes. 
 
 Colonel Young. 
 
 Helen Goffe. 
 
 Dr. Pym, 
 
 Dr. Mattingly. 
 
 Dr. McCabe. 
 
 Mac Dickinson. 
 
 Dr. Matthews. 
 
 Lillie Green. 
 
 Mrs. Askew. 
 
 Mai-y McGavack. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin. 
 
 Dr. and Mrs. Topp. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wltherspoon. 
 
 Colonel and Mrs. McLaurin. 
 
 Colonel and Mrs. Billups. 
 
 Miss Lillie Ramsey. 
 
 Mrs. W. S. Barry. 
 
 Lula Weaver. 
 
 Mat Morton. 
 
 Blannie Shields. 
 
 Maud Leigh. 
 
 Dr. and Mrs. Lyon, 
 
 Major Joe Billups. 
 
 Carleton Billups. 
 
 Miss Mollie E. Humphries. 
 
 Colonel and Mrs. Beverly Matthew*. 
 
 Anna John Pouncy Mayo. 
 
 Jennie Worthington. 
 
 Anna Evans. 
 
 Dr. and Mrs. Mac Clay. 
 
 Captain Ruggles. 
 
 Mrs. Fort. 
 
 Dr. and Mrs. T. H. Mayo. 
 
 Lucretia Banks. 
 
 Mrs. A. B. Meek. 
 
 Judge Field. 
 
 Sallie Johnston. 
 
 Calvin Perkins. 
 
 Negro servants. 
 
 4S 
 
PART n. 
 Scene 2. 
 
 (February 9, 1865.) 
 
 CAST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 (Negro servants set a sofa just back of center of stage. Enter 
 
 Allen and Mary Harrison, the little brother and sister of the 
 
 bride.) 
 
 .men — Oh! oh! Mary, don't you wish you could see in the dining 
 room ? 
 
 Mary — There are two dining rooms tonight, one full of meats 
 and one full of sweets. 
 
 Allen — Of course, I saw the supper and you didn't. There are 
 about a thousand cakes and a hundred bowls of charlotte and 
 jelly and ice cream and stands of fruit and nuts and coffee 
 and tea and oyster soup and oysters and bread and salads 
 and pickle and a whole lot of turkeys. 
 
 Mai*y — Oh! 
 
 Allen — It took forty dozen eggs to cook that supper. 
 
 Mary — Oh! oh! 
 
 Allen — And everybody will have something to carry home. 
 
 Mary — I wish I could be a fairy in the wedding and I wish that I 
 hadn't had to go to school, 
 
 Allen — (Going to one side and peering out) — Come here, Mary, 
 and look, the hall's just full of people already, and I can 
 hear more coming all the time. Do you reckon sister's near- 
 ly ready? (Enter Mrs. James T. Harrison.) 
 
 Mrs. Harrison — Ally, Mary, don't stand looking out at the com- 
 pany. 
 (The bridesmaids in white tarletan dresses with ruffled hoop 
 
 skirts and many roses, with their escorts, all military officers, 
 
 enter informally laughing and talking.) 
 
 Passie Butler — Is the bride almost ready, Mrs. Harrison? 
 
 Mrs. Harrison — Almost. 
 
 Ellen Williams — Regina is very fortunate to have all the regalia 
 of a bride: white satin, point lace, veil, and even orange blos- 
 soms, when most Southern girls are having to get married 
 in homespun now. 
 
 Passie Butler — And to have a wedding cake when sugar is worth 
 its weight in gold. 
 
 Ellen Williams — And to have Bishop Green in town. 
 
 Mrs. Harrison — You girls will be saying next that it is fortunate 
 General Lee was wounded! 
 
 Passie Butler — No doubt he thinks it a piece of very good luck. 
 
 General Jackson — Many a soldier now longs for wounds that he 
 
 46 
 
may recuperate in Columbus. 
 
 Passie liutler — (Courtesying) — You flatter us, General Jackson. 
 (Major Blewett enters.) 
 
 Allen — ^There is grandfather, Mary. (The children run and af- 
 fectionately seize his hand.) 
 
 Major Blewett — We brought our invalid guest, the bridegroom, 
 along. 
 
 Mi's. HarrLson — Young gentlemen, I want to introduce you to my 
 father. Major Blewett. (She presents him. Each bows low 
 as his name is called.) 
 (General Stephen D. Lee, walking with the aid of a crutch 
 
 and a stick, enters. One ol the young men hurries toward him 
 
 and helps him to the sofa, where he becomes at once the center 
 
 of interest.) 
 
 Major Blevvett^ — How is the foot, Sir? 
 
 General Liee — It causes me only slight discomfort, thank you. 
 Major. 
 
 Major Blewett — (To ;\Irs. Harrison) — Do you not think it would 
 be best for General Lee to remain seated during the cere- 
 mony? 
 
 General Lee — I beg of you, sir, not to concern yourself, I can 
 stand, I assure you. 
 
 Mrs. Harrison — He is not to walk, father. We arranged to have 
 a tableau wedding. 
 
 Passie Butler — It is a great pity. General, that the bride and 
 groom cannot dance. 
 
 General Lee — Ah, you are kind, but we shall nevertheless be in- 
 terested spectators. What is the dance you have learned for 
 the occasion? 
 
 Passie Butler — The Lancers. It has never been danced in Col- 
 umbus. 
 (Enter Regina Harrison, the bride. They all turn toward 
 
 her with such exclamations of delight that she hesitates, em- 
 barrassed. Mary Askew goes to meet her, and leads her to the 
 
 group.) 
 
 Major Blewett — The General is standing. Regina, my child, in the 
 interest of my patient, do sit down. 
 
 Ellen Williams — Oh, no, sir. The bride must stand for fear she 
 will muss her veil. 
 
 (Major Blewett forces General Lee back upon the sofa. En- 
 ter Bishop Green in his vestments.) 
 
 Mi's. Harrison — Here is Bishop Green. Form your tableau, young 
 people. Father, when they are ready, invite the company in. 
 (The bride stands in front of sofa where sits the groom. 
 
 Bishop Green faces tiiem. Their attendants with much bustle 
 
 47 
 
form a group at each side. The family withdraws from the pic- 
 ture. Mrs. Harrison nods to her father; and Mary and Allen run 
 to the sofa, climb up, and stand beihind the bridal pair. The 
 groom rises. The company, most of whom are women, enter and 
 assume an expectant pose. Bishop Green reads from the prayer 
 book the Episcopal marriage service in abbreviated form. 
 Allen and Mary are the first to embrace the bride. They 
 also seize hold of the groom, calling him "Brother Steven," but 
 the entire company tenders its congratulations amid a hum of 
 talk and occasional gay laughter. Fragmentary conversation 
 from the changing group about Mrs. Harrison rises above 
 the general talk.) 
 
 Helen Ciofi'e — (In blue silk, with roses in her hair) — ^Mrs. Har- 
 rison, this is indeed an occasion as brilliant as those of hap- 
 pier days, an oasis in our social desert. 
 
 (She passes on toward the bride and groom, and three army 
 surgeons talk with Mrs. Harrison.) 
 Dr. Pym — (Very bald) — If Is such occasions as this that make 
 
 the hospital staff dread the end of the war. 
 Mrs. Harrison — Columbus, too. would be sorry to see the army 
 surgeons leave, but you may be sure we shall always remem- 
 ber you most happily. Dr. Pym. Perhaps you will leave be- 
 hind as a memento, a lock of your hair? 
 Dr. Mattingly — (With shouts of laughter) — A lock of his hair; 
 
 he would rather part with an eye tooth. 
 Mac Dickinson — Oh- Mrs. Harrison, my hat is gone! 
 Mrs. Harrison — Did you give it to one of the servants, Mac? 
 Mac Dickinson — No, Ma'am, I hid it in the japonica bush as I 
 
 came in, and when I went back just now it was gone! 
 Mrs. Harrison— Perhaps Allen knows something of this. Excuse 
 me, gentlemen, I must investigate, for a hat is a rare and 
 precious possession in these days. 
 
 (When at length this phase of the wedding is ended, the cen- 
 ter of the stage clears, leaving room for the dancers in front of 
 the bride and groom upon the sofa. The attendants dance the 
 Lancers, and are commended with much applause. Then the 
 company dances.) 
 
 Mrs. Harrison — (To Bessie Harris and Helen Goffe) — Bessie, 
 General Bufort wishes to take you in to supper. Helen, you 
 will go with General Ross. 
 (The line forms, led by the bride and the groom with his 
 
 crutch and stick, followed by the attendants, then by the family 
 
 and general company.) 
 
 Passie ButLer — (To her escort, as others take their places) — Do 
 
 48 
 
you know we h^ave been going to supperless parties all dur- 
 ing the war? 
 
 Escort — Indeed ? 
 
 Passie Butlei* — Sometimes we have a bowl of plums or a tray of 
 pop-'Corn. 
 
 (They all go off. The negro servants come to remove the 
 sofa. Allen and Mac Dickinson return runnimg and much ex- 
 cited.) 
 
 Allen — (To servant) — General Bufort fainted! When he reached 
 over to get some oyster soup for Miss Bessie he hurt his 
 wound and fell right down like ithis. (He illustrates.) And 
 Miss Bessie hollered, "Don't ruin my dress, General!" and 
 Miss Helen Goffe most bit her spoon in two. 
 
 Mac Dickinson — (Rubbing his neck) — ^Mrs. Crusoe jumped so she 
 scalded my neck with hot coffee, but she said it was worse 
 for me to spill ice cream on her dress, because new skin is 
 easier to get than silk. (They follow the servants off. 
 
 Allen — (Calling out) — And everybody hollered, and he made an 
 awful noise when he fell. 
 
 INTERLUDE. 
 
 Oi-ystal Cleai — How sad to think the Old South with all its beauty 
 and romance had to die! Is it wrong to wish the Confed- 
 eracy had not failed. Alma Mater? 
 
 1. I. and C. — Did it fail? 
 
 (.'I'y.stal Clear — (Puzzled) — The South was defeated. 
 
 I, I. and O. — But it is not for us to say it failed. 
 
 Candor — I can not forgive the North. 
 
 I. I. and C. — Learn of Columbus. 
 
 PART II. 
 Scene 3. 
 
 (April 25, 1866.) 
 
 CAST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 Matt Morton. 
 
 Mrs. J. T. Fontaine. 
 
 Mrs. Green T. Hill. 
 
 Mrs. Augusta Sykes. 
 
 Other ladies and girls of Columbus. 
 
 49 
 
PART II — Scene 3. 
 
 (Enter two little girls in white dresses who set up in the 
 ground the semblance of headstones in two widely separated 
 groups, eight to a group. One plants the flag of the Confederacy 
 in the midst of her group and the other the flag of the United 
 States. They go off. Enter to music a flower-laden procession of 
 young girls in white and women in mourning who decorate the 
 graves impartially and then form a semi-circle around them.) 
 All — The Lord gave, and the Lrord hath taken away: blessed be 
 
 the name of the Lord. 
 
 (They go off in the order of entrance.) 
 
 INTERLUDE. 
 Crystal Clear — Did the North know that the women of Columbus 
 
 did this generous thing? 
 I. I. and C — Tell them, Sympathy. 
 Sympathy — It was a Northerner who wrote the poem about it: 
 
 "By the flow of the inland river 
 
 Whence the fleets of iron have fled. 
 Where the blades of the green grass quiver, 
 
 Asleep in the ranks of the dead; 
 Under the sod and the dew. 
 
 Waiting the judgment day; 
 Under the one the Blue, 
 
 Under the other the Gray. 
 
 From the silence of sorrowful hours 
 
 The desolate mourners go. 
 Lovingly laden with flowers 
 
 Alike for the friend and the foe. 
 Under the sod and the dew. 
 
 Waiting the judgment day; 
 Under the roses the Blue 
 
 Under the lilies the Gray. 
 
 No more shall the war cry sever 
 
 Or the winding rivers be red; 
 They banish our anger forever 
 
 When they laurel the graves of our dead. 
 Under the sod and the dew, 
 
 Waiting the judgment day; 
 Love and tears for the Blue. 
 
 Tears and love for the Gray." 
 
 50 
 
(Little girls return and carry off first the stones, 
 then the flags, and last the flowers.) 
 
 (Enter Spirit of History, who gives an interpretive dance, 
 
 "War-blight." 
 
 (Enter the godmothers of Columbus looking very sad.) 
 
 Education — It is long since we heard Columbus sing. 
 
 Prosperity — What a dreadful blight fell on her young joy when 
 war destroyed her youth and wrecked her rich possessions! 
 But she is most wonderfully courageous through her misfor- 
 tunes. 
 
 Education — Courageous? Yes, splendidly brave and patient. It 
 is that which breaks my heart — Columbus has lost her 
 youth, her joyous, buoyant youth. 
 
 Good Governments — Is there not something that will bring back 
 her hope and radiance? 
 
 Prosperity — (Shaping her head dejectedly) — There is no chance 
 for Prosperity while the po'or war-exhausted country lies in 
 the grasp of avaricious carpet-baggers. 
 
 Education — Oh, no, Good Covemment, no chance whatever for 
 Prosperity or Education in a land so beset. 
 
 Good Government — (Her face lighting up) — But what if the 
 power of this corrupt government were overthrown? 
 
 Prosperity — Ah, if such a thing could be! 
 
 Education — There can be little possibility of upsetting the present 
 order of things. Good Government. Remember that the ig- 
 norant colored people, who are wax in the hands of these 
 same carpet-baggers, most hopelessly outnumber the en- 
 lightened of the community. 
 
 Good Grovemment — Away with discouragement. Wit does some- 
 times triumph agaiust might, you know. (She laughs de- 
 lightedly.) Already a half-dozen harmless schemes crop 
 up in my mind. 
 
 Education and Pi-osperlty — What are tlhey? 
 
 Good GrOvemment — Patience, patience, my sisters. Make room 
 for my magic. (She leads them to one side. Then she lifts 
 her fasces after the manner of one performing a spell with 
 a wand.) 
 
 61 
 
PART in. 
 Scene 1. 
 
 (1876.) 
 
 CAST OP CHARACTERS. 
 
 A Young Negro. 
 
 An Old Negro. 
 
 A Carpet-Bagger. 
 
 Two Citizens of Columbus. 
 
 Col. W. C. Richards. 
 
 White citizens. 
 
 Negroes. 
 
 PART III. 
 Scene 1. 
 
 (Two negroes, one a tall young mulattio of aggressivemien 
 and the other a small, wizened old man with igray hair, bring in 
 and place a table and two benches in the foreground and two old- 
 fashioned hand-pumps for fighting fire in the rear. While so do- 
 ing, they engage in conversation. In the intervals of talk the 
 young one whistles, "Step Light Ladies.") 
 The Young One — Things sho is changed 'round heah lately. Dere 
 
 ain't a white man in dis town can tell me whut I got ter do. 
 The Old One — Humph. 
 The I'oung One — Dere ain't. Ise as good as any dese white men 
 
 in Coilumbus. 
 The Old One — Mebbe so. Mebbe you' is jest as good. (Pausing.) 
 
 Howsomever, yo' is a nigger. 
 The Young One — (Truculently) — A n%ger, is I? Well, dat ain't 
 
 so bad now'days. De niggers has things lak dey wants 'em. 
 
 De niggers 'lects de officers, passes de laws, an' s^en's de 
 
 money. De white folks, dey cayn't do nothin' but pay de 
 
 taxes. 
 The Old One — (Chuckling) — Dat's so. 
 The Y^oung One — Yessir, de bottom rail is sho' on top of dis 
 
 fence. 
 
 (Enter a white man carrying a bright-colored carpet-bag.) 
 Carpet-bagger — Have you gentlemen voted yet? 
 
 (Both negroes assume a pose of much di-gnity at this greet- 
 ing.) 
 
 The Y'oung One — Yessir, we has. 
 
 The Carpet-bagger — You voted for Mr. Eggleston, did you? 
 The Young One — Yessir. Fo' Mr. Eggleston. 
 Carpet-bagger — Did you mark your votes as I showed you? 
 The Young One — Yessir. Jes' lak y^u say, we done. 
 
 62 
 
Carpet-bagger — You did not let some one else tell you how? 
 
 The Young One — No sir, we sho' done lak you say. 
 
 Carpet-bagger — (Menacingly) — Is that tlie truth.? 
 
 The Old One— (Edging off )— 'Fore God, Boss, it is de bible truth. 
 
 Carpet-bagger — Well, if it isn't you are the ones to suffer. If 
 the Denwcrats carry this election they'll make you slaves 
 a&ain. How would you like that? (Oratorically). Do you 
 not like to be free, with no man to give you orders — able to 
 go where you please, work when you please, and vote as you 
 please? 
 
 Both — Yessir, yessir. 
 
 Carpet-bagger — If the Republicans win, you gentlemen will soon 
 be owners of plantations with white men picking cotton for 
 
 you. 
 
 The Young One — (With a loud guffaw) — Ain't it so. 
 (The carpet-bagger goes off.) 
 
 The Old One — Does yo' reckon we done dat votin' raht? Reckin 
 we ain't got somethin' mixed up? 
 
 The Y^oung One — Bf all de niggers in dis town knows lak I does 
 'bout dis votin' bizness, Mister Eggleston is de Mayor ob Col- 
 umbus befo' dey eben counts de votes. 
 
 The Old One — Well, it ain't all in jes' knowin' how. Dere ain't 
 neber no tellin' how things is comin' out wid all de&e heah 
 goin's on, and sperets er-conjurin' 'round. 
 
 The Young One — Yo' talkin' 'bout dem Ku Kluxes? 
 
 The Old One — (Trembling with fear, drops the bench he is car- 
 rying and looks wildly about him) — Hush, nigger, fo' de 
 Lawd's sake. Don't yo' know dat ain't safe? Don't be so 
 reckless-some wid yo' tongue. 
 
 (Enter two white citizens wbom the old negro greets obse- 
 quiously with bowing and scraping. The negroes go off.) 
 
 First Citizen — Well, the suspense will soon be over. The polls 
 are about to close. 
 
 Second Citizen — I should not say "suspense" if I were you. (He 
 draws a package out of his pocket, slaps it against his hand, 
 and winks mysteriously. They both laugh.) 
 
 First Citizen— (Becoming grave)— I wish there were some other 
 way to carry the election. 
 
 Second Citizen— You astonish me, sir. Surely you have no mor- 
 bid compunctions as to the relative merits of the votes of 
 darkies who are but the dupes of a handful of unprincipled 
 and designing carpet-baggers and those which represent the 
 wish of the intelligent and public-spirited citizens of Col- 
 umbus? 
 
 First Citizen — Oh, no. 
 
 68 
 
Second Citizen — Then why — ? 
 
 First Citizen — I was merely wishing for a surer means of saving 
 the day. (They both laugh.) Indeed I have no compunc- 
 tions. Quite the contrary, my dear sir. I am most deeply 
 convinced that the present state of affairs must be ended 
 peaceably now if they are to be ended peaceably at all. I 
 have long feared bloodshed. It is beyond human nature to 
 expect a hligli-so^uled people to submit to such outrages as 
 are daily perpetrated. We can not sit quiet while this mis- 
 rule devours our patrimony, or while our women behind 
 closed blinds tremble at the sound of black hordes tramping 
 past to music of fife and. drum. 
 Second Citizen — Let us not excite ourselves. When we carry this 
 
 election we shall surely see the beginning of better things. 
 First Citizen — Ah, if it were only safely finished. 
 Second Citizen — I, too, long to see the end of the carpet-bag su- 
 premacy. 
 
 (Sound of voices.) 
 First Citizen — Listen. The polls must have closed. Hide that 
 package. 
 
 (Enter the election officials, who are the Carpet-bagger, two 
 clerks, two judges, and a policeman, accompanied by citizens 
 white and oolored. The carpet-bagger, having discarded his bag, 
 carries the ballot-box, which he places upon the table. The clerks 
 seat themselves and prepare writing materials to register votes.) 
 Carpet-bagger — Stand back, there. We don't take any chances 
 with this election. (Impressively.) For mayor of the City 
 of Columbus the Republican candidate is Mr. Eggleston; the 
 Democratic candidate, Colonel W. C. Richards. Please reg- 
 ister the count. (He unlocks the box and takes out the 
 votes singly.) Mr. Eggleston, Mr. Eggleston, Mr. Eggleston. 
 Mr. Eggleston, etc. 
 
 (Cries of "Fire! fire!" from without are taken up by citi- 
 zens, who rush toward engines, upsetting table, box, benches, 
 carpet-bagger, clerks, and all. He whom we have designated 
 "First Citizens," quickly scoops up handfuls of votes from the 
 over-'turned box, and the other drops in the contents of his mys- 
 terious package. The carpet-bagger hurriedly disentangles him- 
 self and locks the box, which he never loses hold of again. All 
 except him go off sbouting and tugging at the engines. Almost 
 immediately they come trooping back, without the engines, 
 laulghing uproariously.) 
 Second Citizen — (Leading) — False alarm! 
 
 First Citizen — Ah, these practical jokers. Some mischievous boy 
 no doubt is laughing in his sleeve at us. 
 
 S4 
 
Caipet-bagger — (Looking glum) — He should be soundly thrash- 
 ed. Let us proceed with the election returns. 
 
 (The table and benches are set up, the clerks seated, and a 
 fresh start is made.) Please register the count: Col. W. C. Rich- 
 ards, Richards, Richards, Richards, Richards. (The surprise in 
 his voice changing to displeasure and finally to alarm.) Richards, 
 Richards, Richards 
 
 (The rest of the count is lost in tlie tumult that bursts forth, 
 but the carpet-bagger, by screaming and beating on the table 
 makes himself heard for the final anouncement.) Colonel W. C. 
 Richards, the Democratic candidate for mayor, is overwhelmingly 
 elected. 
 
 (The citizens, carryin,g Col. Richards on their shoulders, go 
 off with cheers in one direction, and the officials with silent de- 
 jection In another, the negroes begin fearfully to remove the 
 furniture. Their actions are eloquent but they do not speak until 
 they lift their last burden, the table.) 
 The Old One — (Pausing) — Now, whut d'yo" think? 
 'J he Young One — I don't know! I don't know! 
 The Old One — Yo' goes in hones' Republican ticket, but wiut yo' 
 
 comes out (Devoutly,) de Lawd only knows. 
 
 (They go off, shaking their heads.) 
 
 INTERLUDE. 
 
 (Prosperity, Education, and Good Government, who have 
 smiled throughout the scene, now laugh aloud.) 
 Good Government — (Triumphantly) — Talk not of failure to me. 
 Pi'ospei-tiy — You are a marvelous trickster, sister, and now all 
 
 things are possible for Columbus. Shall I perform my magic 
 
 next? 
 Education — O, Prosperity, let me bestow the next gift. I have 
 
 thought of a wondrous present, and I long to make it an 
 
 actuality. 
 I'l-osperity — Is it a secret? 
 Education — It is a fair dream which grows upon me, opens vistas 
 
 of possibility. It will give Columbus her youth again and 
 
 then — and then she shall be forever young, our beloved city 
 
 of flowers. 
 Good Government — What miracle is this. Education? 
 Education I will bring the young womanhood of all the state to 
 
 seek learning in Columbus. 
 Crystal Clear — (Rapturously) — O, Alma Mater! 
 
 (I. I. and C. stills her with a gesture and Education waves 
 her torch. The Spirit of History enters and gives interpretive 
 dance, "A New Dawn.") 
 
 66 
 
PART m. 
 
 Scene 2. 
 
 (June 30-July 2, 1887.) 
 
 CAST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 The I. I. and C. Girls of 1886-1887. 
 
 Dr. R. W. Jones, President of I. I. and C. 
 
 Governor Lowry. 
 
 Mr. J. R. Preston, Superintendent of Education. 
 
 Mrs. A. C. Peyton. 
 
 The Faculty. 
 
 PART III. 
 Scene 2. 
 
 (Enter four girls in I. I. and C. uniform of the Eighties, two 
 of them carrying a floral ship. The other two, by manipulation 
 of cords previously arranged upon the branches of trees, provide 
 means of suspending the ship. It is slowly drawn up to a height 
 far above their heads and secured. 
 F^i-st Girl — There, I don't think it will fall. 
 Second Gii'l — Isn't it beautiful — ^and elaborate? 
 First Girl — Mrs. Billups made it, they say. I wonder why she 
 
 made a ship. 
 Second Gii-l — Why? It is a symbol, of course. 
 First Girl — A symbol? 
 Second Girl — That this great institution has at length been 
 
 launched. 
 First Girl — Oh! 
 
 Second Girl — In some ways I am sorry that commencement time 
 
 has come. 
 First Girl — So am I. But it is a relief to know the examinations 
 
 are over. Yesterday from eight in the morning until six in 
 
 the afternoon I alternately chewed my pen-staff and scribbled 
 
 thoughts on English Literature. 
 
 (They go off talking, but enter again with a great number of 
 other girls also in uniform. The procession advances two abreast 
 until the leaders have almost reached the center, then the col- 
 umns divide right and left and assume a diajgonal line of march. 
 When they come to pause and face inward they are in two lines 
 converging toward the rear of the valley. Enter faculty, one 
 by one, each greeted by lO sort of stage whisper among the girls: 
 Miss Sallie C. McLaurin, Miss Pauline V. Orr, Miss M. J. S. Cal- 
 laway, Mrs. Edwards, Mrs. Whitfield, Miss Ruth Roudebush, Mra. 
 A. C. Peyton, Miss Martin, Miss Gessner Tutwiler, Miss Mary B. 
 
 66 
 
Bacon, Miss Ida Rust, Mrs. M. S. Battle, Miss S. V. Hill, Miss 
 Bettie B. Clay, Mrs. Addie T. Owen, Mrs. Irene A. Ramsey, Mrs. 
 A. E. Crusoe, Miss Rosa E. Worthington, Mrs. F. I. Crowell, Mrs. 
 Lucy Torrey, Miss Louise Harris. They form two groups above 
 the lines ot girls. Enter the President, Dr. R. W. Jones, with the 
 dignitaries of the occasion, Governor Lowry, Hon, J. R. Preston, 
 and others. They station themselves between the groups of the 
 faculty. Dr. Jones advances to center, greeted by applause.) 
 l>r. Jonts — The Industrial Institute and College of the State of 
 Mississippi is an actuality. It could not be until mortar had 
 been mixed, corner-stones laid, and walls upraised. But even 
 these are no more than the semblance of a college. The 
 Promethean fires which quickened it were its great purpose 
 to serve, and the answering ardor in the hearts of these 
 young women. The year's work is ended, and our first com- 
 mencement reached. In other days, we will achieve greater 
 things in the eyes of the world, but 1 think there will never 
 come a time when these walls look d'own upon more earnest 
 effort and nobler ambition than they now see in these first 
 students. (He pauses and then presents Governor Lowry.) 
 The colleige is honored by the presence of Governor Lowry 
 (Governor Lowry greeted by applause, advances to center.) 
 (loveiuor Lowry — On behalf of the State and her officials, I wish 
 to commend the achievements of the college during this first 
 year; the splendid work of the committee which made these, 
 hiand&ome buildings possible; the earlier effoa-ts of Mrs. Pey- 
 ton and others which waked Mississippi to its needs; and the 
 generosity and hearty support afforded the college by the 
 town of Columbus. 
 Dr. Jones — (Presenting Mrs. Peyton) — Mrs. A. C. Peyton, who, 
 over the signature of "A Mississippi Wioman," advanced the 
 cause o.f education for women. 
 Mrs, Pe»ytoii — I have never made a public speech in all my life, 
 but I should indeed be ungrateful not to express my thanks 
 for the kind mention of me. More than ever I am proud 
 to be a Mississippi woman. I love my native state. I am 
 pnoiud of all her resources, her schools and her colleges. 
 Most of all am 1 proud of this college. I have no fears for 
 its future, for I believe the interests of Mississippi's daugh- 
 ters are safe in the hands of Mississippi's sons. 
 Dr. Jones — Of course we have no graduates as yet, but there are 
 many whose signal talents warrant public recognition. Mr. 
 J. R. Preston, the State Superintendent of Education, will 
 award the medals and prizes. 
 Mr. J. R. Preston — (Speaking slowly, giving each girl time to come 
 
 67 
 
forward for her prize.) Miss Emma Thigpen, Issaquena 
 county. Medal in Deportment; (given by the Attorney G-eneral. 
 Miss Melle Fort of Oktibbeha county, set of Designer's Im- 
 plements for Best Wall-paper and Frieze. Miss Ella Brit- 
 tain of Kemper county, medal for designing altar cloth; giv- 
 en by Miss Jennie Vaughan. Miss Minnie Heard of Yazoo 
 county, order for a Sewing Machine, as prize for "nice sew- 
 ing." Miss Molly Gore df Webster county, medal for high- 
 est average in scholarship; given by Dr. R. W. Jones. Miss 
 Fannie Camp of Lowndes county, medal for scholarship; giv- 
 en by Miss Pauline V. Orr. 
 
 (All go off, first Dr. Jones and other dignitaries, then the 
 faculty, then the girls. Mrs. Peyton remains and the four girls 
 who brought the ship take it down and carry it off.) 
 Mrs. Peyton — When a great State college for women was but a 
 wish with me, so fervently did I long, it seemed already a 
 reality, but now it is a livings thing, I cannot persuade my- 
 self I do not dream. What mother of daughters could easily 
 believe in the accomplishment of this wonder, begun by these 
 men of today and yet to be finished by great-hearted men of 
 the future. (The men of the future pass before her.) Miracles 
 are not stranger than this truth: that forever more will go out 
 from these walls to uplift the world, an increasing stream of 
 young women. There will be women of business. (The bus- 
 iness woman passes before her) ; those who reign in the 
 hearts of friends (the May queen passes); those who care 
 for the sick, (The Nurse passes) ; artists, (The Artist passes) ; 
 musicians, (The Musician passes) ; teachers, (The Teacher 
 passes), and those who need the wisdom of all, mothers, 
 (The Mother passes.) (Mrs. Peyton goes off.) 
 
 POSTLUDE. 
 
 (iood Govemment — Hark! 
 
 (There comes the sound of Columbus singing as before, but 
 
 this time very faint and far away. One short strain is heard and 
 
 then the echo dies.) 
 
 Education — My gift has made her sing! 
 
 Prospertiy — (Waving her cornucopia, and spilling therefrom a 
 shower of confetti) — Columbus, city of flowers, your god- 
 mother, Prosperity, also endows you. Your fields shall yield 
 rich abundance and straightway shall your commerce take 
 on new vigor. Your population shall double. More treas- 
 ures will I lavish on you until all the world shall enviously 
 exclaim, "The Golden Age has returned to Columbus." 
 (A burst of song, clear and startlingly near at hand, answers 
 
 58 
 
her, and the Young Columbus, bearing baskets of flowers 
 suspended from a yoke across her shoulders, enters. Her 
 godmothers lift their arms toward her with love ineffable 
 and she, to whom they are invisible, advances singing.) 
 
 SONG OF THE YOUNG COLUMBUS. 
 (Grieg's Sunshine Song.) 
 
 Since vanished the shadows that render me dumb, 
 I now in an aura of youthfulness come. 
 Through woodlands aquiver with blossoming spring, 
 My song of glad tomorrows, of coming joys to sing. 
 
 A redolent promise each wind to me blows, 
 From jessamine, jonquil and radiant ro&e, 
 That, worthy my past, I shall be ever more 
 Columbus, famous city of bloom and priceless lore. 
 
 The Young Columbus — (Pausing and gazing afar off)— I am the 
 Young Columbus, spirit of the past made new. A grateful 
 reverence fills my being when I consider my rich heritage, 
 and then I vow to my fair flowers that I will be worthy of 
 my past. The vivid deeds of history live again for me each 
 spring in weeping wistaria and glad rose, and I gather the 
 springing blossoms as I would gather those events of other 
 years in one bright mass of beauty. 
 
 (AH the actors in historical scenes come in, winding about 
 in devious ways, and finally pause filling the valley. A bugle 
 sounds and a herald rides from the rear.) 
 
 Herald — Make way for Misisissippi, sovereign state! 
 
 (A broad aisle is opened to admit Mississippi, in classic garb, 
 riding in a gilded chariot drawn by white horses.) 
 
 Participants in Pageant — All hail, Mississippi! 
 
 (Columbus drops to her knees as Mississippi stops.) 
 
 Mississippi — Rise, Columbus. They who visit you in spring can 
 ask no sweeter homage than the fragrance of your flowers. 
 What is this spojft:? 
 
 The Yoimg Columbus — My favorite haunt, your Valley of Youth. 
 Nowhere else could the past be made to live again. 
 
 MlssiBsippi — Ah, Columbus, you have many rich possessions — 
 tree-arched avenues, radiant lawns, and splendid memories. 
 And not the least of your blessings is this fair valley which 
 you hold in fealty to us, your sovereign state. Cherish it 
 
 69 
 
well; keep it peaceful and undisturbed that nothing may 
 cloud the young vision. 
 
 The Yoimg Columbus — I will, most gracious Mississippi. 
 
 Mississippi — And now turn the page, bright with Indians, ar- 
 mored knights, and belles in old brocade, that you may write 
 a new, better than all the rest. It is not well that the 
 pageant of the past linger too long in the Valley of Youth. 
 
 The Young Columbus — (Handing her yoke and flower baskets to 
 Passie Butler) — Farewell, my memories. 
 (The pageant forms a long column facinig outward, and 
 
 pauses. Missiissippi turns toward the hillock and I. I. and C. 
 
 rises to hear her words.) 
 
 Mississippi — Daughter of my heart, I. 1. and C, you are the 
 molder of the future. We go as we came, leaving you in the 
 quiet of your leafy cloisters to shape the vision of tomorrow. 
 Come, Columbus. 
 
 (Columbus ascends the chariot. The Godmothers, Prosper- 
 ity and Good Government, take the bridles of the horses, but 
 Education leads all with lifted torch. The herald rides hefoire 
 her, close behind the pageant. At his bugle call, the whole pro- 
 cession moves off. The Spirit of History enters and gives inter- 
 pretive dance, "The Parable of Life.") 
 I. I. and C. — The story is ended. I wonder if you saw in it more 
 
 than gaudy panorama. I wonder if you caught th© vision. 
 Crystal Clear — (Springing up and stretching out her arms to the 
 
 throng of girls) — We do understand, don't we? 
 Girls — (Rising and crowding about hilliock) — We do! We do! 
 I. I. and C. — And you will follow my star? 
 
 (Girls sing a part of "Poundtain of Wisdom" song.) 
 I. I. and C. — If I am your "fountain of wisdom" then you shall 
 be my conduits. Go forth and iglve to othiers all of good 
 which you have received. Most of you will guide the feet 
 of little children as I have guided yours. (Enter children in 
 white whom the girls take by the hand.) 
 Girl — Must we leave you. Alma Mater? 
 I. I. and C. — You cannot dwell forever in the Valley of Youth. 
 
 Go, my children, your Alma Mater bids you go. 
 Girl — But suppose we go astray? 
 
 I. I. and C. — Crystal Clear and her sisters shall guide you, and al- 
 ways my eyes will be upon you watching, lest you wander. 
 Lead them, Crystal Clear, — towards the sunlight. 
 (Crystal Clear goes into the valley with her sisters. The 
 hills at rear of valley part, and the throng of girls go off straight 
 toward the west in a long column, singing.) 
 
 60 
 
ALMA MATER SONG. 
 
 In our heart of hearts, rests a sacred retreait, 
 
 Where is shrined with youth-time its memories sweet 
 
 Of the friends at college, faithful and true. 
 
 O, dear college comrades! O, dear colleige comrades! 
 
 O, dear college comrades, we're loyal to you! 
 
 There ne'er was a time in our lives so free 
 
 Aa the joyous days at the I. I. and C, 
 
 Days all chastely golden, gaily sweet; 
 
 Beloved days at college! Beloved days at college! 
 
 Beloved days at college, with joys all too fleet. 
 
 Through chill mists of advancing years shines the light 
 Of our Alma Mater's radiant brow, pure and bright, 
 Stowing us the blessings of life service fair; 
 O, great Alma Mater! O, great Alma Mater! 
 O, great Alma Mater, of mission so rare! 
 
 (As the last leave the valley I. I. and C. shades her eyes, look- 
 ing after them. When they have disappeared and the song has 
 died away, she lifts her water-jar to her shoulder, descends 
 tlie path, and goes off.) 
 
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