Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1913-10-10

CD al AAA0hahs 0AA4 49, ~ - ~
ing very much at ease.
The scene was new to her. More
than a thousand villagers, ranged
along a natural declivity, looked down
upon the platform of undressed pine.
In front of the platform men and
m were kneeling on the ground.
Some were bathed in tears; some
were praying aloud; some we're talk
ing to those who stood, or knelt be-
side them; some were clasping con-
vulsive hands; all were oblivious of
surroundings.
From the hundred members OF the
choir, Fran singled out the man she
had been seeking for so many years.
1t was easy enough to distinguish him
from the singers who crowded the
platform, not only by his baton which
proclaimed the choirleader, but by
his resemblance to the picture she had
discovered In a New York Sunday
Supplement.
Hamilton Gregory was clean-shaved
except for a silken reddish mustache;
his complexion was fair, his hair a
shade between red and brown, his
eyes blue. His finely marked face
and striking bearing were stamped
with distinction and grace.
1t was strange to Fran that he did
not once glance in her direction.
True, there was nothing In her ap-
%pearance to excite especial attention,
but she had looked forward to meet
ing him ever since she could remem-
Der. Now that her eyes were fast
ened on his face, now that they were
SO neal, sheltered by a common roof,
how could he help feeling her pres
ence?
The c~hoir1eader 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 leader
of the choir started into galvanic life.
He led 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 upon
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 exaitctiCI wnilo
his magic voice seemed to thrill with
more than human ecstasy.
On the left, the heavy bass was
singing,
lone think we know,
Wherever we go
We reap what we sow,
We reap what we SOW"
While these words we're being doled
out at long and impressive intervals,
like the tolling of a heavy bell, more
than half a hundred soprano voices
were hastily getting in their requisite
number of half-notes, thus
$50 scatter little. scatter little. scatter
scatter little,
Scatter little seeds of Kindness"
In spite of the vast volume OF
sound produced by these voices, Is
we'll as by the accompaniment of two
pianos and a snare-drum, the voice of
Hamilton Gregory, soaring f1ute-like
toward heaven, seemed to dart
through the interstices of rests" to
thread its slender way along infinites-
imal curves of silence. AS one list
ened, 1t was the inspired truth as ut
tered by Hamilton Gregory that
brought the message home to con
science. AS IL one had never before
been told that one reaps what n
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.
OF those who were not in the least
affected, Fran was one. She saw and
heard Hamilton Gregory's impassioned
earnestness, and OWNED his y%earning
to touch many hearts; o 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.
1t would have been easier for her to
laugh than to cry.
Although the preacher had ceased
his exnortations for the singing OF
the evangeiistic 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
magnetic arms in parallel lines. Not
n word did he speak. Even between
the verses, when he might have striv-
en- against the pianos and the snare
drum. he maintained his terrible 81.
lence. But as he fixed his ardent eyes
upon space, as he moved those impel.
ling arms, a man would rise here, a
woman start up there-reluctantfy, or
eagerly, the unsaved would press
thar wav tn the rom kneeling at