The evening leader. (Tarpon Springs, Fla.) 191?-19??, 1917-04-17
SUNDAYS SERMON
A PATRIOTIC ONE
I'VE Are UnfurIing Old Glory
For Cause Of Justice"
WILL TAKE NO MOSEY NOW

He stood-a tense, erect figure-stark
in the electric lights beneath the great
curving sounding board. One foot was
on his chair. The other was on the
top of the pulpit in front of him. His
| clinched hands were appraised. as
though they grasped destruction His
| voice was hoarSe and excited, like a
| lighting terriers.
German militarism is doomedr' Billy
Sunday shouted in his great tabernacle
| in New York. 1T is doomed, and the
! great guns of the United States are
| going to help dig it's grave"
| He whirled and leaped to the floor of
the platform like cat, picked up some
thing from the carpet and jumped back
to the uncertain footing of pulpit and
chair with the same feline grace. But
now he held something in his hands,
something that murmured like distant
thunder as he swung it back and forth
with the old ball players heave, some
thing scarlet and silver and blue. 1t
was the flag.
I'VE are unfurling it now for the
cause of justice!' Sunday shouted,
tense grin in his sweat streaked face.
1T has never flown for anything else"
Roar Hides Words.
And then a great roar SWelled up,
blotting out the words that followed
Twenty thousand men and women rose
figure, still swinging the standard back
and forth, two pianos crashed out My
Country, 'Tis of Thee" In a second
the song had spread through the crowd.
Every one was singing.
At the end of the verse Homer A.
Rodeheaver, the suave, the easy of
speech, held up his hand I'VE will
sing the Battle Hymn, Sundays mu-
sic director announced and picked up
the trombone that has made him ia
nous at a score of reyivaIs.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of
the coming of the Lord"
The mighty marching song filed the
tabernacle to the highest OF the unyar-
nished rafters. Men coughed and
binked away tears and tried to go on.
1t was more of prayer than hymn.
The taUt figure of Sunday continued
to whirl the flag ABOUT his head until
the last tremendous note had died
away. Then be relaxed, laaped down
to the floor and mo2ped his face.
I THAT'S all" he Aid. with a weary
grin
That is the picture that the Rev.
William A. Sunday stamped for all
time upon the memories of 10000 per-
sons. That was the magnificent climax
of the first day of the m.ghtiest CAM
paign that he has ever undertaken.
"God's Grenadier."
Goods grenadier," he called himself
one of the Almighty's army who is
set in the forefront of the battle to
break the ranks of the foe for those
that follow. But it was not as bomb
thrower that he went to New York.
1t is not as mercenary that Sunday.
the fighter, has gone to New York. He
has taken up the conflict in the great
the cause that he leads. Not one penny
of the thousands that he will receive
in his three months service will ever
find its way into lis pockets.
All of the customary gift Offering"
given upon the last day of his stay will
go, after his employees have been paid.
to the Red Cross and the Y. NJ. C. AS
doing work among the United States
soldiers. He will take nothing for the
hardest work of his lie.
This is the reply that Goods grena-
der" gave to those who have sneered
at him and have said, struggling their
shoulders, Sunday is only in it for
what he gets. This time Sunday is in
it up to his strong, pugnacious chin,
and as volunteer. Il won't have that
gang spit on me again and then try to
rub it mr. he shouted.
Ten minutes after he had begun his
first sermon he had trained all his bat
teries upon the forces of evil in New
York city. He peppered them with a
machine gun fire of adjectives-" vile,
iniquitous, low down, groveling. WORTH
less, damnable, rotten, hellish, corrupt,
miserable" was only one salvo that he
directed upon them.
He blasted the weasel eyed, butter
and milk, white liyered, whisky soaked
gang" with shock after shock of in
vective and sarcasm. And with his at
tack he broke through the thin shell of
reserve that New Workers. had brought
to the tabernacle. Ten minutes after
the beginning of his sermon they were
cheering with him. Before he finished
they were yelling for him.
As usual, his hottest offensive was di-
rected against that worst crowd this
side of the penfteniary: that black
hearted gang of scoundrels-the LIQUOR
dealers" His attack upon them was
the climax of his afternoon sermon.
Come on, you blackguards r. he yelp-
ed. "Come on! defy your
He fought an imaginary foe across
the stage as hard and fast as ever
lightweight battered his way across a
ring His face was dripping and red
when be halted, one foot and one hand
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