I. All Hail to the Conquering Hero.
II. The Conquering Hero is Disposed to be Human.
III. Containing Some Reflections
and the Entrance
IV. The Mock Marriage.
V. A Little Glimpse of the Garden of Eden.
VI. The Ways of Desolation.
VII. Mother and Daughter.
VIII. In Days of Waiting.
IX. On the Threshold of Shelter.
X. Anna and Sanderson Again Meet.
XI. Rustic Hospitality.
XII. Kate Brewster Holds Sanderson’s Attention.
XIII. The Quality of Mercy.
XIV. The Village Gossip Sniffs Scandal.
XV. David Confesses his Love.
XVI. Alone in the Snow.
XVII. The Night in the Snowstorm.
Miss Lillian Gish as Anna Moore. . . . Frontispiece
Martha Perkins and Maria Poole.
Martha Perkins tells the story of Anna Moore’s past life.
Lillian Gish and Burr McIntosh.
WAY DOWN EAST
All Hail to the conquering hero.
Methinks I feel this youth’s perfections,
With an invisible and subtle stealth,
To creep in at mine eyes.—Shakespeare.
It had come at last, the day of days, for the two great American universities; Harvard and Yale were going to play their annual game of football and the railroad station of Springfield, Mass., momentarily became more and more thronged with eager partisans of both sides of the great athletic contest.
All the morning trains from New York, New Haven, Boston and the smaller towns had been pouring their loads into Springfield. Hampden Park was a sea of eager faces. The weather was fine and the waiting for the football game only added to the enjoyment—the appetizer before the feast.
The north side of the park was a crimson dotted mass full ten thousand strong; the south side showed the same goodly number blue-bespeckled, and equally confident. Little ripples of applause woke along the banks as the familiar faces of old “grads” loomed up, then melted into the vast throng. These, too, were men of international reputation who had won their spurs in the great battles of life, and yet, who came back year after year, to assist by applause in these mimic battles of their Alma Mater.
But the real inspiration to the contestants, were the softer, sweeter faces scattered among the more rugged ones like flowers growing among the grain—the smiles, the mantling glow of round young cheeks, the clapping of little hands—these were the things that made broken collarbones, scratched faces, and bruised limbs but so many honors to be contended for, votive offerings to be laid at the little feet of these fair ones.