The producer, while not employing armies, should use many actors and the tale be told with the same power with which the productions of Judith of Bethulia and The Battle Hymn of the Republic were evolved.

While the following story may not be the form which Springfield civic religion will ultimately take, it is here recorded as a second cousin of the dream that I hope will some day be set forth.
Late in an afternoon in October, a light is seen in the zenith like a dancing star.

The clouds form round it in the approximation of a circle.
Now there becomes visible a group of heads and shoulders of presences that are looking down through the ring of clouds, watching the star, like giant children that peep down a well.

The jewel descends by four sparkling chains, so far away they look to be dewy threads of silk.

As the bright mystery grows larger it appears to be approaching the treeless hill of Washington Park, a hill that is surrounded by many wooded ridges.
The people come running from everywhere to watch.