TABLEAUX. VIVANTS.

NO I. WASHINGTON'S DREAM OF LIBERTY.

DESIGNED FOR A FOURTH OF JULY, OR WASHINGTON'S BIRTH-DAY SCHOOL CELEBRATION.

BY P. A. FITZGERALD.

Enter Box, in front of Curtain.

PROLOGUE TO TABLEAU NO. I.

Boy. When War, dread desolator, waves his blood-stained flag,

Till Havoc howls to know her feast is made.

To her, Carnage is beautiful. The agony-fraught groans Of dying men, whose hearts are growing cold, the shrieks, The tramp of wounded, rushing steeds, the clang

Of clashing steel, the imprecations dire

Of foes whose only thoughts are how to kill.

The sound of blood-drops pattering, music is to her
More sweet than breathings of the softest lute.
Fearful such sounds, such sights, yet tyrants proud,
Eager in thought to clasp their manacles,
Array and marshal forth their mighty hosts,
And bidding them on speed! the tocsin sound
They fain would make the knell of Liberty!
But He, the God of Hosts, within whose hand
The globe is held, who measures every man
With but a glance, whose fiat none can stay,
Bids ofttimes rise to stem the fierce onslaught,
A chosen champion of all "Human Rights."
Such was thy mission, Glorious Washington!

As such shall be thy fame. To thee in dreams
Thy course was shown: sweet Heaven-born Liberty
To thee appeared, and crowned thee, happy fate!
Thy country's sire - her brave deliverer.

Behold his vision! sons and daughters see
How sweet his smile, how grand his destiny.

(Exit.)

The Curtain is then drawn to discover the proper position on the Stage, of the Characters forming the first Tableau.

A, Represents Washington, reclining on a couch.

B, Boy kneeling on left knee, and holding out an open Bible.
C, Boy kneeling on right knee, presenting a sword.

1, 2, 3, 4, Girls in white, holding wreaths over Washington. J, Girl representing the Genius of Liberty—the cap of Liberty upon her head, and holding in her right hand a small American flag.

D, E, G, H, Young girls forming a line, with wreaths joined and raised a little above their heads, and extended over toward the figures represented by F.

F, Figures kneeling in an attitude of supplication, having chains in their hands, which they drop simultaneously as the boy who is presenting the sword utters the sentence: "Ne'er sheath it till sweet liberty is won."

DIALOGUE SPOKEN DURING TABLEAU NO. I.

Genius of Liberty. We hail thee, Washington, Columbia's guardian! Be strong in heart, resolute in purpose, pure in thy

aspirations! Then shall a world yield thee its acclamationsthen shall thy name become great in the mouths of all men.

Boy with Bible, (reading.) “I will say of the Lord, he is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust. Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler; and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler."

Boy with Sword. This weapon thine, the cause a holy one. Ne'er sheathe it till sweet liberty is won!

Genius of Liberty, (as the chains fall.) Thus shall the captives' chains forsake their limbs!

All the Characters. And all the world shall hail thee "FATHER OF THY COUNTRY." (Curtain drops.)

NO. II. MARION AND THE BRITISH OFFICER.

AN HISTORICAL SCENE OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION.

Enter Boy in front of Curtain.

PROLOGUE TO TABLEAU NO. II.

Boy. The first of men, of patriots ye have seen;

Upon another and his trusty band, staunch
Yeomen all, ye 'll look when drawn this screen.
Humble their meal, and scanty- strange to him
Who wears the costume of their country's foe.
What cares the patriot? He's no epicure,
The coarsest viands satisfy the men

Who fight to win the great, the priceless boon
Of Liberty; the right to act, to speak

As honest freemen! The tyrant's minions gaze
With wonder on the band, yet feel how great

The hearts that beat beneath their worn attire.
"Our food," cries Marion. The ashes raked
Reveal the frugal meal; frugal, yet free!
Grown in and dug from out an earth whose sod
Our patriot fathers swore should never bear
The tread of tyrants! kept they then their oath?
Let this the nineteenth century reply! for ours
Is freedom's life! No crowns bedecked with gems,
Adorn their brows who rule our happy land.
A plain elected citizen, a man 'mongst men,
One by his peers there placed, a few short years
Sits in the chair of state. No tyrant, he
Performs his duty: rules;—to private life retires,
And yields again to those who gave it him
His brief authority. Say ye who now are here,
Shall this not always be? Ye answer, "Yes!"
Our prayer be this "Heaven grant it ever so,"
And all our efforts, may they ever tend
To keep this land as our Creator meant
It should be kept,—the hope of the oppressed,
Freedom's Asylum, her eternal home!

(Exit.)

The Curtain is then drawn to discover the proper position on the Stage of the Characters forming the second Tableau.

KEY TO TABLEAU NO. II.

A, British Officer, seated upon a small log.

B, Marion, partially reclining, his right elbow on a log, and lean

ing his head upon his hand.

C, British soldier standing; in his hand a flag of truce.

D, One of "Marion's Men," in his left hand a large potato, from which he is brushing the ashes with the right sleeve of his coat.

E, F, G, H, "Marion's Men" in various attitudes, some sleeping, others partially sitting up.

DIALOGUE, SPOKEN DURING TABLEAU NO. II.

Ofttimes we get

British Officer. And is this the kind of food the country for which you are fighting furnishes you? Marion. This, sir, is a holyday meal. but little even of this. But, sir, tell your king from us, that poorly as we are fed and clothed, we can not be conquered. A scanty meal is better to men who love freedom more relished than would be the most gorgeous banquet ever presided over by the royal tyrant, whose crimson-clad armies are now battling in the cause of a despotism alike obnoxious to the Creator and to man.

(Curtain drops.)

NO. III. YOUNG AMERICA:

A CHARACTERISTIC SCENE OF THE PRESENT DAY.

Enter Box, in front of Curtain.

PROLOGUE TO TABLEAU NO. III.

Boy. I come, kind friends, as others have, to speak You for your favor. We are yet but young,

And for your smiles look anxiously to find

If these our efforts please you. Progress is our word!

A motto good; who stops becomes a clog

Upon society. All races, men of every creed
Are up and doing;-yet be not too fast

Young men and women; stop sometimes for breath,