Joy in the Morning | Page 4

rubs it on the object. Spits on it and rubs the sand_.) _V'là_,
Jean-B'tiste--it shines.
_Jean-Baptiste_. (Loftily.) Yes. It is nothing, that. One finds such
things.
_Angélique._ (Rubbing more.) And there are letters on it.
_Jean-Baptiste_. Yes. It is nothing, that. One has flowers en masse now,
and it is time to go home. Come then, _p'tite_, drop the dirty bit of
brass and pick up your pretty flowers. _Tiens!_ Give me your hand. I'll
pull you up the side of the ditch. (_Jean-Baptiste turns as they start_.) I
forgot the thing which the grandfather told me I must do always. (He
stands at attention.) Au revoir, brave Americans. One salutes your
immortal glory. (_Exit Jean-Baptiste and Angélique_.)

THIRD ACT
_The scene is the same trench in the year 2018. It is eleven o'clock of
the same summer morning. Four American schoolgirls, of from fifteen
to seventeen years, have been brought to see the trench, a relic of the
Great War, in charge of their teacher. The teacher, a worn and elderly
person, has imagination, and is stirred, as far as her tired nerves may be,
by the heroic story of the old ditch. One of the schoolgirls also has
imagination and is also stirred. The other three are "young barbarians at
play." Two out of five is possibly a large proportion to be blessed with
imagination, but the American race has improved in a hundred years_.
Teacher. This, girls, is an important bit of our sight-seeing. It is the last
of the old trenches of the Great War to remain intact in all northern
France. It was left untouched out of the reverence of the people of the
country for one hundred Americans of the Blankth Regiment, who died

here--in this old ditch. The regiment had charged too soon, by a
mistaken order, across what was called No-Man's Land, from their own
front trench, about (_consults guide-book_)--about thirty-five yards
away--that would be near where you see the red poppies so thick in the
wheat. They took the trench from the Germans, and were then wiped
out partly by artillery fire, partly by a German machine gun which was
placed, disguised, at the end of the trench and enfiladed the entire
length. Three-quarters of the regiment, over two thousand men, were
killed in this battle. Since then the regiment has been known as the
"Charging Blankth."
First Schoolgirl. Wouldn't those poppies be lovely on a yellow hat?
Second Schoolgirl. Ssh! The Eye is on you. How awful, Miss Hadley!
And were they all killed? Quite a tragedy!
Third Schoolgirl. Not a yellow hat! Stupid! A corn-colored one--just
the shade of the grain with the sun on it. Wouldn't it be lovely! When
we get back to Paris--
_Fourth Schoolgirl (the one with imagination_). You idiots! You poor
kittens!
First Schoolgirl. If we ever do get back to Paris!
Teacher. (Wearily.) Please pay attention. This is one of the world's
most sacred spots. It is the scene of a great heroism. It is the place
where many of our fellow countrymen laid down their lives. How can
you stand on this solemn ground and chatter about hats?
Third Schoolgirl. Well, you see, Miss Hadley, we're fed up with solemn
grounds. You can't expect us to go into raptures at this stage over an
old ditch. And, to be serious, wouldn't some of those field flowers
make a lovely combination for hats? With the French touch, don't you
know? You'd be darling in one--so _ingénue!_
Second Schoolgirl. Ssh! She'll kill you. (Three girls turn their backs
and stifle a giggle.)

Teacher. Girls, you may be past your youth yourselves one day.
First Schoolgirl. (_Airily._) But we're well preserved so far, Miss
Hadley.
Fourth Schoolgirl. (_Has wandered away a few yards. She bends and
picks a flower from the ditch. She speaks to herself_.) The flag floated
here. There were shells bursting and guns thundering and groans and
blood--here. American boys were dying where I stand safe. That's what
they did. They made me safe. They kept America free. They made the
"world safe for freedom," (She bends and speaks into the ditch.) Boy,
you who lay just there in suffering and gave your good life away that
long-ago summer day--thank you. You died for us. America remembers.
Because of you there will be no more wars, and girls such as we are
may wander across battle-fields, and nations are happy and well
governed, and kings and masters are gone. You did that, you boys. You
lost fifty years of life, but you gained our love forever. Your deaths
were not in rain. Good-by, dear, dead boys.
Teacher. (_Calls_). Child, come! We must catch the train.

FOURTH ACT
_The scene is the same trench in the year 2018. It is three o'clock of