Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922, 1915-10-10
Those Chilly" Sunday Prayers

Those BILLY" Sunday Prayers
, Those prayers
At first they shocked the church-going people
If Omaha, but they made great hit with the I'M
churched throng. 1t suited them. If Jesus
rams best friend, and had saved him from death
and hell why shouldn't he talk with him inform
;lly?
And now all Omaha delights in "Billy's"
prayers
He has been preaching for nearly an hour, the
sweat scattering from his face and neck like drops
Of water from the back of wet dog when he shakes
himself His clothing is soaked wet a rag held
under a pump nozzle He has been top of the
bulpit and down again. chair and off again
haltdozen times He has thrown himself prone.
and leaped up again, agile as cat He has raced
and whirled and leaped and gyrated, and shouted.
Town in the great audience women are sobbing
fly and you see man here and there lift
hand and brush the tears from his eyes, and as
,cu peer from the platform down into that level
sea of 900 under the glazing electric lights
the expression and the attitude of each is the same
The 10000 faces to merge into one great
face, and one great pair of eyes fastened upon the
preacher solemnly listening filled with tense emo
ton, hanging upon each word
And suddenly, without a pause Billy shuts
his eyes and says:
'Well, Jesus, when ! came here tonight didn't
know whether I'd be able to pull through not.
RE some. But you helped me, dear Lord. just like
you always have. You never failed me yet.
Help old Omaha, God throw your arms around
her, Lord, and help her. Go into the barber shops
Lord into the court house and city hall into hotels
and stores, factories and saloons, Lord. Help the
down-and-out, Lord. Help the in the street
the floater and drunkard. He's on the ropes, and
groggy Lord. The devil has him almost out; one
more stiff uppercut would finish him. Help him.
Lord, to square his shoulders, raise his dukes and
cry: Come on, old devil, there's more good
punch in me yet
"BiIly's voice trembles with feeling He leans
over his eyes still shut tight his wet face cleaning
the electric light, and slaps the side of his pine
desk with the flat of his hand, and he shouts:
But No One Laughs
Help me, oh Jesus, help me to save all in
Omaha that are rushing pell-men to hell so fast
you can't them for the dust"
No laughs. 1t does not sound irreverant
Not when Billy" Sunday says it. There is a
solemn hush on the great audience,
Help me- Lord, and give me strength to do
your work. And you know, Lord that as long as
can stand on two feet and as long have voice
enough to be heard, I'm going to do your work. and
when you fit to call: Three strikes and out
Bill, go to bed I'll keep at it,
Help me, Lord to make the people see the
semaphore of danger. Help them to hear me cry
ing Stop! Stop!! stop! Help US ALL"
Suddenly his tone changes to one of defiance.
Say you old DEVIL You old reprobate! Haven't
you done enough harm? Aren't you satisfied?
You've had your heel on the neck of Omaha for
many years, you've sent thousands to drunkards'
sraves. You miserable whelp you've sent young
to hell, to the penitentary down here at Lin
,oln; young women to hell. Aren't you ready to
siop?" This at the top of his voice.
with the help of God and the church, defy
you. am going to lick you, right here in Omaha.
I'm going to whip you fragile, with the help
Of the Lord hallelujah."
1t may read irreverent in cold type But not
from the lips OF BILLY" Sunday.
Heart to Heart" with God
One night he finished preaching and then shut
eyes and prayed:
- well, Jesus, don't know II there's any need
OF me saying any more tonight. I've tried as well