The Cedar tree is stately and tall,

_Tenth boy:_

But the hale old Oak is king of all.

_Trees in unison:_

Arbor Day, your subjects loyal, Give you greetings; hearty, royal.

(March to music to back of stage behind Flowers.)

_Arbor Day._

Thank you, trees, from lowland and hill, I appreciate your hearty good will, Are others still coming to our fete?

We welcome them, though they be late.

_Enter ten small girls_ (run in on tiptoe lightly, waving arms while the others sing.)

The birds are flying, tra-la, tra-la, Their strong wings a-trying, tra-la, tra-la, From east and west, they come with the rest, For Springtime is here, tra-la, tra-la.

_First girl_ (courtesies):

The Robin has a pretty vest,

_Second girl:_

The Bluebird sweetly sings his best;

_Third girl:_

The Bob-o-Link trills in its meadow home,

_Fourth girl:_

The Bluejay calls in a shrill loud tone,

_Fifth girl:_

The Blackbird sings in the tall marsh rushes,

_Sixth girl:_

But sweeter, softer, call the Thrushes,

_Seventh girl:_

The Oriole whistles from its swinging nest,

_Eighth girl:_

But the Song Sparrow sings the sweetest and best.

_Ninth girl:_

The Meadow Lark chants his mad, merry glee,

_Tenth girl:_

Woodp.e.c.k.e.r just taps, so busy is he.

_In Unison:_

Dear Arbor Day, your subjects loyal, Give you greeting, hearty, royal.

_Arbor Day:_

A queen whose welcomed by the birds, Feels joy too deep for idle words.

Dear friends, my subjects, it is May; Let us sing Spring's roundelay.

(Here may be introduced groups of the charming flower songs by Mrs.

Gaynor, bird songs by Nevin, simple folk dances, and appropriate Spring poems, etc., as part of the May Day fete.)

_Arbor Day._

This day has been so full of pleasure, I cannot yet my sadness measure.

And scatter our joyousness far and wide.

(Exit, first the Birds, then the Trees, the flowers, the School children, the Holidays, then Arbor Day and Chorus, singing.)

The birds are trilling, tra-la, tra-la, Their glad songs are filling, tra-la, tra-la, The wood and dale, the meadow and vale, The Springtime is come, tra-la, tra-la.

The gentle May breeze, tra-la, tra-la, Plays o'er the green leas, tra-la, tra-la, Dandelions twinkle, violets sprinkle, The sward 'neath the trees, tra-la, tra-la.

The garden flowers gay, tra-la, tra-la, Are here to stay, tra-la, tra-la, The rich red rosies and all the posies, Say Springtime is here, tra-la, tra-la.

Springtime is here, tra-la, tra-la, Brooklets run clear, tra-la, tra-la, Birds are winging, flowers springing, For Springtime is here, tra-la, tra-la.

(Simple costumes make this more effective. All the girls wear white gowns--Chorus has a simple Greek dress. Arbor Day a crown of flowers and scepter, her maids baskets of flowers; the flower girls wear chaplets of blossoms, artificial ones are best; The Holidays can wear appropriate dress; the School-Children enter as if from play with their baskets, dolls, flowers, fishing rods, etc.)

A BROKEN WING.

In front of my pew sits a maiden-- A little brown wing in her hat, With its touches of tropical azure, And the sheen of the sun upon that.

Through the colored pane shines a glory, By which the vast shadows are stirred, But I pine for the spirit and splendor, That painted the wing of that bird.