The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1919-07-24

! high. The music lures her along fast.
! er and faster. she launches out into q
! quiekstep, the pattcr Of her rapid fest
like quick raindrops, her hands on her
: hips like girls. The fiddle skirls out
! a louder and swifter rhythm which.
now thoroughly aroused. Granny
grects with whoop, and toss Of her
! erutch into the corner; and then she is
footing IL like mad, her skirts flying,
! her old slippers gone, her dignity alto
! gether forgotten, her red flannel petit
coat flashing her pipe clutchcd tightly
between her gums--as preposterous
and gallant an old figure as ever dcfied
Time! The Town Hall rocks TO its
foundations in such peals Of laughter
as perhaps IL has never known before.
i Suddenly she stops short, with a
startled face of attention, one uplift-
ed hand commanding silence, one at
her ear What's that? What's that ?"
she cries sharply. The clatter Of swift
hoofs approaches outside, "The
messenger from the Convention!"
cries one Of the grandsons, running to
the door. A mans voice breaks
through the silence. shouting hoarsely'
"The vote went hundred and thirty
two to three in favor of joining the
Union" And the .hoofs clatter on into
the distance.
Then all the noise that has gone be.
fore seems like the heart Of silence,
compared to the shout which goes up
from the family, climbing on chairs,
waving pipes and aprons and shouting,
Were Americans! We're Americansw
Down in the audience the historical
instinct thrills to that cry.
The head Of the family calls for
silence, gathers the grandchildren
around him and shakes out an Ameri-
can flag, bidding them all gravely,
look well, children! That is your
flag now, from now on for ever and
ever. See that you are worthy Of itw
Then, holding up the flag for all to see,
he calls in ringing voice for three
cheers for the new country, the United
States Of America. The family break
into full-throated cheering, and as the
curtain goes down, the people on the
stage hear the audience cheering, too,
forgetting to applaud.
Then--it is all over. We look at
each other, smiling, excited, very hap
py, little sad. But before we can ex-
press that thought, up comes the audi
ence swarming on the stage: "There're
some folks here from Manchester, and
they want you should give 1t there"
|"A couple Of teams came up from
South Shaftsbury, and they're asking
II you won't give it in their Town
Hail."
Some one else says, obviously, "Of
course you took in lot of money, but
your expenses must have been enor-
nous"
We look at each other calculatingly.
Lets see, what are our EXPENSE?
Why -" we are astonished, our selves
- "our expenses are just exactly moth
ing at allw Yes, all that we made can
go to the transformation Of the dreary
little school-house and grounds into
the natural, cheerful, attractive chill
dren's school home, which we long to
see it.
Now the reason why all this has
been written and set down is because
we have been so pestered with re-
quests to repeat our play. We have
repeated it once, in neighboring
town, and we are going to do it again
in another. A New York reporter,
getting wind Of what seemed so un-
surprising TO US, SO natural growth
out Of our own lives, said urgently,
"You bring that show down to Broad
way, just as you gave it It's unique!
I'll bet it would make hit" But we
cried out at such ignorance Of the re-
alities Of life, "Good gracious! IL all
the North District went to New York,
who would do the chores?" That Is
the kind of people we are; and our
play is part Of our lives, as station.
airy as our mountains.
What we can't understand is why
all these people, who ask TO see our
play, don't grow one Of their own, with
their own traditions and jokes and an
cestors. Almost certainly you have in
your community past far more import
ant Incidents than we. II need not be
in the Revolutionary period: 1t could
be any time you choose frontier
life, the first coming Of the railroad,
the putting through Of the first teIe-
breath from the Civil
War, or just scene from domestic
life Of the. crinoline and erewel- work