interspersed with bird notes. A number of children, girls and boys,
come out and sing and dance under the blossoms of the apple-trees.
They sing the children's song:_
We are of the sunrise
Flower-breath and dew,
Travelling wider circles
Of blue beyond the blue,
Seeking strength of spirit,
Happiness and joy--
Heritage decreed for
Every girl and boy.
Music of the moonbeams
And the orchard rain,
Music of the meadows
Waving with the grain,
Mountains in the sunlight,
Colors of the flowers,
Trailing cloud and shadow--
All of these are ours.
We are of the sunrise
Flower-breath and dew,
Travelling wider circles
Of blue beyond the blue.
_The little girl in the foreground looks with wonder and delight
at the entrancing spectacle. She has her side to the audience.
She raises her arms, listens, rubs her eyes, smiles with joy. She
touches the grass, the flowers, the trees, picks up and smells the
falling apple-blossoms. She begins to dance like the other children.
One of them sees her and runs toward her with arms outstretched.
The newcomer touches her hair and her hands. They smile at each
other. The little girl leads the stranger toward the others and has
her join in the dance. The dancing is in the Greek manner. They play
with a light, large, bubble-like balloon._
_Little Girl_
What is your name?
_Stranger_
I do not understand.
_Little Girl_
Oh, of course, I forgot. I will lead you to some one who will give you a
name.
(_A man and woman have come slowly through the orchard and seated
themselves on a bench under an apple-tree. Two or three of the
children lead the stranger up to them._)
_Stranger_ (_feeling of the hair and gown of the woman_)
Who are you?
_Woman_ (_smiling_)
I am your mother.
_Stranger_ (_feeling of the hair and face and garments of the man_)
Who are you?
_Man_
I am your father.
_Stranger_
What place is this? They told me somewhere--but I have forgotten--that I
should die _there_ which is being born _here_ and come to the earth.
_Mother_
Yes, this is our world, and I shall give you a name. I shall name you
Everychild.
_Everychild_
Is it always and everywhere so beautiful?
_Mother_
No, but it should be so, and some day it will be so.
_Father_
It is a dream we have.
_Mother_
It will be even more b
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