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r^vrmt u WHY?“The‘Lamb/Remarbble T HE most impressive and remarkable pro test against the needlessness, the bru tality and the wanton wastefulness of war was voiced recently in New York by the world famous theatrical organization known as “The Lambs." “The Lambs" is a unique club, of which the foremost acton in America are members. Each year they give what they call a “Gambol,” At their Gambols The Lambs always hit the keynote of the moment. It was to be expected, therefore, that this year, with its cloud of slaughter hanging over the whole world, something remarkable in the way of a war play would be produced- In George V. Hobart’s extraordinary allegory which he called “Why?" this note was struck. “Why?" is really a morality play. The drama has its root in morality plays. This form still retains its direct appeal to the human heart, and in it Hobart found his most effective vehicle to bring forth his pic ture of the underlying causes, the development and the futile end of war. In “Why?" mo tives, principles ani all the other abstract fac tors of life are personified by actual men and women. This remarkable play, which moved thou sands who saw it and which is really the pro test of the theatrical profession of America against war. could only, because of the few performances given by “The Lambs,” be seen by comparatively a limited number of people. It probably will be produced in amplified form during the Winter. In the meantime, not wishing the lesson to be lost, this newspaper is enabled to print some pictures of the more remarkable scenes, pictures never before shown, and through the courtesy of Mr, Ho- bart is able to present the powerful allegory in the following abridged form. f*WOTQS r MITR * N Devotion, Innocence and Duty. DEVOTION—Look! In her baby eyes she’s asking why her father has to go? DUTY (to the child)—Because, dear, your father’s name is Duty—and this is the hour of sacrifice. Discontent—'Valor! your father calls! (Buglet heard.) Courage—Yes, your father calls—damn him!—why do you hesitate? (Btriket Valot across face with glove.) Valor (about to strike back)—You!— Faith—Valor! Valor (restraining himself)—Oh, God! the dream—the dream come true! And only through self-sacrifice and Death can peace return from the wilderness where she Is baDlshed. Go on, father! 1—I follow. (Exeunt Discontent and Valor. Bugle calls, voices, Cfc., off.) Faith (in agony to Content)—Father, what does tt mean? Courage—War! Oontent—There’s a holiday In hell, daugh ter; a holiday in hell! Faith—God In His Heaven! Why, why, why? SCENE I. Where the storm begins. A garden with a beautiful landscape on a Summer afternoon. Faith, a girl in simple white Summer dress, it gathering roses. Sensible, a quaint, old-faahloned character, Is sitting on a ■tone. Faith talks with him and then Valor enters. TJAITH—Valor, dear, I didn't expect to see * you to-day. Valor—No. dear—but 1 just had to see you. My father. Discontent, Is In one of his mad moods, and I <^ime to you, Faith, dear, for comfort. Faith—That Is as It should be always, dear Valor. But your father’s mad mood Isn't everything that's wrong. Tell me, what is it, dear? Your eyes are troubled and your hands unsteady. Valor—A dream, Faith; a dream. Faith—A dream! You, Valor, troubled by a dream? Valor—Yes, dear. It was so real. An hour ago In our own garden I sat to rest from the sun—and I slept and dreamed. And In that dream the hevaens changed. The blue sky was blotted out In the blind ing smoke—the voices of the birds were drowned In the roar of guns, and Death— Death stalked abroad and grinned and reaped his harvest. Faith—It was of war you dreamed? Valor—Yes, dear—war! I dreamed that all that were human became as beasts, and, shaking themselves free from their llgnt covering of Christianity, tore and gnawed at each other’s throats. Hell vomited forth her legions of destruction and the stars around us stopped In their flight to watch a world gone mad with savagery and hate. Faith—It was but a dream! Valor—Of course—lr was a dream—that's all—a dream! Faith—And how can such a dream of hor ror live for a moment In the bright sunlight Of reality? Valor—True! true! How can such a dream live In the sunlight? Faith—My father would have to quarrel with your father—and—why, there’s noth ing for them to quarrel about, Is there? Valor—Of course there Isn’t I'm sorry I apoke about the dream—let us stt over here and talk of other things. (They go to a bench and sit there.) You love me. don't you? Faith—Forever and forever! Valor—God bless you! (Embraces her Voices heard off.) Who Is that? Faith—It Is my father, Content! (Enter Content, an elderly man, soft-voiced and dig nified. Valor tells httn how he loves his daughter Faith. Courage, Content's son, en ters. He is overjoyed at the love between his sitter and Valor. Valor and Faith exit.) Courage—Don’t you think they will be happy together, Father? Content—Yes, my son; they will be .happy together always If Fate, the Jester, doesn't happen to notice them and choose them as playthings. (Drum roll heard off—not loud.) Courage—What's that? Content—Our cousin, Discontent, per haps. Courage (looking off)—Yes, Father. It Is. But why the drum? Content—His moods are many. And It may be that the music of the drum makes his footsteps lighter. Since his visits are few and far between, we shall forget the manner of his coming In the warmth of our welcome. (Enter Discontent, tall, dignified, iron-gray hair, nervous, irritable, clad in semi- military attire. There are three of his sol diers with him.) Content—It Is so good of you. Discontent, to come to see us here In our quiet garden —you are more than welcome. Discontent—I know. You say that to everybody—and you mean it. Oh, I give you credit—but 1 can't say It—there are few who come to my garden and welcome. Content—Have you ever tried to make) them welcome? Diecontent—I don't see the sense of It. Content—I feel sometimes that my smile reflects the happiness of my people. Discontent—How do you know they are happy? Content—1 know—because they are care free. They are happy In their work—happy In their homes—happy In their children. Discontent—Well, they're tooling you. But my people don't fool me. I know they’re not happy. Why should they be? This World wasn’t made for happy people. Content —In this best of all good worlds why shouldn't I find good In everything? Diecontent (who has been sipping wine, suddenly throws glass away and gets up quickly)—Ob, to hell with this stuff! (Cour age takes a step toward Discontent.) Content (dismayed)—Cousin, I’m aston ished! Discontent (angrily to Courage)—Why did you take a step toward me? Courage—Because you Content—Quiet, son! (To Discontent) What’s the use of quarreling over nothing? Discontent—Nothing! There must have been some reason for It or I wouldnt quar rel. There was a reason, wasn't there? Content—I don’t know what it Is—unless the wine was not to your liking. (Content’s three serrants in background snicker.) Discontent—There! you hear that—they laughed at me! (Turns to his three soldiers,) You heard them laugh at me—your duty! (Three soldiers aim guns—fire—the three servants fair—dead. Courage goes to them.) Discontent—Npw, there’s a reason—Isn't there? (To soldiers) Go! Call my people together! (Soldiers exeunt. Faith and Valor run on from right). Valor—What has happened? Discontent—My son! stand here by my side! (Valor starts). Faith—Valor! (Valor hesitates.) SCENE II. Where the storm Increases. A rural landscape, a field of corn anfi fence in the foreground. Sensible Is standing by the fence. There is a gun lying at his feet A bugle call is heard as curtain Is rising. Phlegmatic enters, dressed in street ciothes. Sic carries a gun. S ENSIBLE—Welf, Phlegmatic, you’re go ing, are you? Phlegmatic—Yes, Sensible Sensible—I don't want to be Inquisitive, Phlegmatic, but why are you going? Phlegmatic—Well, If it’s written that way I don’t see what I gain by dodging the Issue. I’ve put my house lu order, and, well, what ever is to be will be! (Buglfr call.) There It Is. So long! (Exit Phlegmatic. Enter Energy.) Sensible—You're off, too, are you, Energy? Energy—Look at me—see the life—the vitality—the strength—that’s what is want ed, Isn’t It? (Exit Energy. Enter Venture.) Sensible—'Well, Venture, why are you going? Venture—Why? Think of the mystery of It—I don’t know what is In store for me and I’m curious. Out there, the plank I'll walk between Life and Death will be so narrow that my nerves will be all a-tlngle with the uncertainty of every moment. (Bugle-call.) That’s for me! (Exit Venture. Enter Thrift.) Sensible—Well, my friend Thrift, why are you going? Thrift—Because It’s twelve dollars a month and no board to pay. (Enter Boast ful) Boastful—Hello, Sensible! Sensible—Oh! Boastful! so you're going— and why? Boastful—I’m going because I can do big things—because single-handed I can cap ture a trench myself. Yon know what I've done In times of peace—ever see any man could lick me? Well, wait till you see iqe now In times of war. (Bugle call.) That’s me! Say! watch me—that's all! It’s m.v war from now on! (Exit Boastful. Enter Cowardice. He walks on reluctantly.) Sensible (turns—sees him)—Well, bless my soul, Cowardice You don’t mean to tell me you're going? Cowardice (t ear full y)—Y es—yes—l—I'm going? Sensible—But why. Cowardice? Cowardice—I don't know—I’m frightened, 1 tell you. I’m afraid to stay borne—and I'm afraid to go. (Bugle call.) Oh, my God, that’s for me! Oh! what’ll I do— what'll I do? It’s no good for me to go— something In my brain telling me—telling me to hide—to run away and hide. Oh! God help me! God help me! (Exit Cow ardice. Enter Patriotic.) Sensible—Well, Patriotic, all ready for the uniform, eh? Patriotic—Yes, Sensible, I’m ready, and I’ve been ready ever since I was old enough to lift this gun! Sensible—And,why are you going, Patri otic? Patriotic—Why? Because my beloved country calls me—she calls—and If I had a thousand lives I’d give them all to help save her honor (Exit Patriotic. Enter Duty, a man; Devotion, a woman, and Innocence, a child.) Duty—Now, Devotion, dear, we must part. Devotion (smiling)—Yes, Duty, I know! Look! In her baby eyes she’s asking why her father has to go? Duty (to the child)—Because, dear, your father's name Is Duty—and this is the hour of sacrifice! Sensible—And this Is the hur or sacri- fice—I wonder if -that is the best reason of all. SCENE III. In the Fury of the Storm. The battlefield. A trench. In the distance tree*. The telephone in the trench rlnge, Courage take* the order. The sound of rapid fir ing is heard. Bullets strike the trench embankment. Indifference enters. He is warned by Sensible, but exposes himself, and falls dead. Boastful falls asleep. Duty falls backward, mortally wounded, Into Sensible’s arm*, who binds a handkerchief about hit head. D UTY (holding handkerchief)—Look in my pocket, Sensible—that little shoe—have you found it?—his first little shoe—hold It to my lips! (Duty kisses the little shoe.) .Put it back—over my heart—let it be there when they —when they— (Growing weaker.) Give me my rifle! Somebody hold that handker chief over my eyes! (Sincer ity docs so.) Now help me for ward—aim the rifle for me and tell me (Sensible does so.) Courage Meets Valor. VALOR—Come on—let us try to put the mark of Cain on each other’s brow! ‘SfifW Death and Famine in the Trenches. FAMINE—I have helped you Death!—I h the sheaves. DEATH—Yes, Famine—you »ve done we unavailing if the hearts of men w« i tuned to g< against brother, the wise and the d wise, the poo my feet, like leaves upon the winds f Autumn— So I stand and smile and watch ini wonder—wl