The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1915-08-05

whether you wear Il coat or a petit
coat. God does not recognize two
standards, and any society that does is
too low down for me"
Mr.. Sunday then turned his attention
to the liquor business and attacked the
open saloon in vigorous words.
The saloons of Bronson" he eX-
claimed. are the vendors of poison;
they are the breeding places of crime
and pauperism; they are the nesting
places of anarchy AMI the incubators
Of lawlessness. If no one ever preach
ed before to these old bull necked fell
lows there is one here now who is not
afraid to do it,
A number Of saloon keepers and bar
! tenders i'll the audience lowered their
heads quickly.
Let us stop finding fault with the
continued the speaker. Let us speak
plainly about the vileness and corrup-
ton of this Infamous business right
here in Bronson. and We'll see better
times. When | get through preaching
here you can throw me In the Bronson
river if you want to, tut | know you
will have to say. There goes man
who stood up for cur homes our wives,
our children and our community Don't
you see it, menu" he said, pleadngly.
81 am fighting for you and for your
homes"
In bringing his address to a close
Mr.. Sunday again referred to his base
ball experiences.
Il used to play ball." he said simply.
Il played center and left field ON the
old Chicago White Stockings. | don't
believe their equal was ever known.
and | am sure their superior never
was. One season we played all year
with eleven men. 1t is over twenty
years ago nOw," he continued, while
the audience bent forward to hear him
speak. THE team was in Chicago. 1t
was Sunday afternoon and | was with
a company Of ball players who were
then famous throughout the world. We
went into a saloon. After coming out
Madison streets and sat down on the
curbing. Across the street a company
of men and women were playing on
horns, flutes and slide trOmbones and
some others were singing gospel
hymns. They were the very hymns
used to hear my mother sing back in
the log cabin in Iowa when | was
child. They were the songs l used to
sing myself in the Sunday school back
in the old church"
There were tears in the eyes of the
evangelist and his voice was tender as
he spoke. Thousands of men looked
at the speaker through dimmed eyes
and the silence in the tabernacle was
profound.
81 listened" continued the ex-cham-
pion of the diamond, land God painted
on the canvas of my recollection and
memory a vivid picture Of the scenes
of other days and other faces. | began
to cry and sob, and my heart was, oh,
so lonely. A young man stepped out
and said, we are going down to the
Pacific Garden mission. Won't you
come with us? I am sure you will all
enjoy it l arose to my feet and said
to the other boys, 'Goodby; I'm going
down to the mission with this crowd
They saw | was interested and some
laughed, others Knocked, but one Of
them encouraged me. Some of them
looked at me in silence. left them at
the corner, went to the mission and
got down on my knees and gave my
heart to Jesus Christ. l went over to
the west side of Chicago and joined the
Jefferson Park Presbyterian church"
Amen, praise God" said an old.
gray haired man near the front when
the evangelist had finished the story
Of his conversion.
II have thanked God ever since for
saving me that day." continued the /
speaker. Listen, men, the other boys !
who were with me that afternoon are ,
low nearly all gone" The speaker
hen told Of the sad fates of his fell
ow ball players who were on the
White Stocking team. One of them
lad died in an insane asylum in Michi-
yan, a victim of cigarettes; another
lad crawled into a drunkard's grave;
mother died in poverty and squalor
IS a consequence of his sins. (Which
# those boys won out that Sunday
he asked. Did | or did
hey? Thank God, won through Jesus
thirst. l am what am through him."
The speaker paused and said abrupt
Y, How many of you men will say,
Thank Y0R.- Bill. your sermon has