The Detroit times., 1912-12-12

10 excite especial attention, out sne
had looked forward 10 meeting hin
ever since she could remember Now
/ that her eyes We're fastened on his
face. now that they were so near,
sheltered by a common roof, how
could he help feeling her presence?
The choir-leader rose and lifted his
baton. AT his back the hundred men
and women obeyed the signal, while
hymn-books fluttered open throughout
the congregation. Suddenly the lead
er of the choir started into galyanic
lie. He lead the song with his sweet
voice, his swaying body, his frantic
baton, his wild arms. his imperious
feet With all that there was OF him,
he conducted the melodious charge up
the ramparts OF sin and Indifference.
IF in repose, Fran had thought him
singularly handsome and attractive.
she now found him inspiring. His blue
eyes burned with exaltation while his
magic voice seemed 10 thrill with
more than human ecstasy. The strong.
slim. white hand tensely grasping the
baton, was the hand OF powerful
chieftain welded in behalf of the God
OF Battles.
On the left, the heavy bass was
singing.
One thing we know.
Wherever We GO
We reap what we SOW,
We reap what We SOW"
While these words were being doled
out at long and impressive intervals.
like the tolling OF heavy bell, moro
than half hundred soprano voices
were hastily getting In their requisite
number OF half notes, thus
so scatter little, scatter little, scatter
little, scatter little,
Scatter little seeds OF kindness"
In spite Of the vas; volume OF sound
produced by these v1ices. as well as
by the accompaniment OF two pianos
and a snare-drum. the voice OF Ham
ilton Gregory, soaring fiute-like toward
heaven. seemed 10 dart through the
interstices OF rests" TO thread its
slender way along infinitesimal crew
ices of silence. One might have sup
posed that the booming bass, the
eager chattering soprano, the tenor
with its thin crust of upper layers, and
the throaty filings OF the alto could
have left no vantage points for an
obligato. Yet II was Hamilton Greg
ory's voice that bound all together in
divine unity. AS one listened, it was
the inspired truth as uttered by Ham
ilton Gregory that brought the mes
sage home to conscience AS II one
had never before been told that one
reaps what one sows, uneasy memory
started out of hidden places with its
whisper of seed sown amiss. Tears
rose to many eyes, and smothered sobs
betrayed intense emotion.
or those who were not in the least
affected. Fran was one. She saw and
heard Hamilton Gregorys impassion-
ed earnestness, and OWNED his yearn-
ing TO touch many hearts; nor did she
doubt that he would then and there
have given his life to press home upon
the erring that they must ultimately
reap what they were sowing Never.
theless she was altogether unmoved.
II would have been easier for her to
laugh than 10 cry.
Although the preacher had ceased
his exhortations for the singing OF the
hymn. he was by no
means at the end of his resources.
Standing at the margin of the plat
form. looking out on the congregation,
he slowly moved back and forth his
arms in parallel lines. With
cut turning his body, IL was as II he
v ere cautiously sweeping aside the In
visible curtain OF doubt that swung
between the unsaved and the altar
This way" he seemed to say. Fol
low my hands"
Not one word did he speak. Even
between the verses, when he might
have striven against the pianos and
the snare-drum, he maintained his ter
rible silence. But as he fixed his
ardent eyes upon space, as he moved
those impelling arms, q man would
rise here, woman start up there
or eagerly, the unsaved
would press their way to the group
kneeling at the front. Prayers and
groans rose louder Jubilant shouts
Of religious victory were more fire.
luent One could now hardly hear
the choir as il insisted
I'VE reap what we SOW,
We reap what we SOW"
Suddenly the evangelist smote his
hands together, signal for song and
prayer to cease.
Having obtained a silence that was
breathless he leaned over the edge OF
who helt upon the ground:
Brother Clinton, can't you get itf"
The man shook his head
You've been kneeling there night
after night" the evangelist continued;
don't you feel that the Lord loves
you? Can't you feel IL? Can't you
feel il now? Can't you get It? Can't
you get IL now? Brother Clinton, l
want you TO get through before these
revival services close. They close
this night. go away tomorrow. This
may be your last opportunity want
you TO get II now. All these waiting
friends want you 10 get II now. All
these praying neighbors want to see
you get II. Can't you get through to
night? Just quietly here, without any
excitement, without any noise or
tumult, just you and your soul alone
observation-disclosures Clinton. cant you
get through tonight?"
Brother Clinton shook his head
Fran laughed aloud.
The evangelist had already turned
TO Hamilton Gregory as a signal for
the hymn TO be resumed, for some
times singing helped them through"
but the sound OF irreverent laughter
chilled his blood To his highly
wrought emotional nature, that sound
OF mirth came as the laughter OF
iiends over the tragedy OF an immor.
tai soul.
Several times" he cried. with
I.gt -. eel