Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1920-08-12
The Gift
Supreme
BY
George Allan England
Author of
Darkness and Dawn"
1.-THE Alibi," etc.

But already the music had launch
ed into ragged discord. The evan
gelist waved his bony hands on high,
Mrs Wesson pumped the organ Wig
orously, and In the hoarse and dis
sonant chorus Of an old-time min
strel song-thru the rough fabric of
which the girls voice wove, golden
threads-arose the hymn:
'.Oh, I think I'd better telephone to
glory;
I need salvation bad, indeed I do
10000!
I want, to hear again the blessed
story;
That's the only dope to pull me
thru!
! know it's not too late for my re-
demption,
+ Wherever i may roam;
I'll telephone to glory, angels there
will hear my story,
And they'll call me to come+back
--home!"
Beside Vinton, the loose Tipped
man was, beating time with knot
ted hand and singing out Of tune;
singing flat, as DRINKS always sing
The alcoholic reek OF the fellows
breath was sickening. Twice thru
the audience bawled the doggerel
while Vinton cringed with aversion
Far from orthodox as he was, he
shrank from such crude barbarism
More than this, tho he hardly real
lied 1t and quite failed to analyze the
meaning OF his emotion, he sensed a
kind of vicarious shame at sight OF
such girl facing so degraded an
audience. singing for these brutes
exposing herself to their unchastened
eyes.
"Rotten!" shouted the missionary
seiztng little iron bar and shifting
the metallic triangle, SO that Its
clangor filled the place. Punk
singin! I could make more noise all
by my lonesome. Next time we got
ter do better n that, or we'll shut ur
shop an blowi Now, tackle No. 1,
Lift her up. all O. you'll" He spoke
with truculent emphasis. shaking the
iron at his audience. Go on, sing It!
One. two. three-now!'
Again the raucous voices raised
the chant:
TITS long way to get salvation.
It's long way-to go!
It's = long. long way to get saliva
ton.
But It's mighty good. know!
Good bye sin an Satan.
Farewell grief an care!
It's long. long way to get saliva
ton.
i But my heares-risht there!"
Silence fell again. scowling, the
evangelist shook his head
Well. we staggered thru IT," said
he: "but It was pretty punk. Try it
again! Only the ladies sing, this
time. You men whistle It. Get
busy!"
TITS long way to get salvation
The shrill piping of the women, the
out-of-tune whistling of the men,
and the eyRngelist's banging on the
triangle produced a most excruciat-
ing discord! vinton felt sick with
shame for the girl, as he watched
her face and heard her voice
OF rare sweetness and power rising
above the raw dissonance.
He shifted his feet, breathsd heav-
lily the thick and sitting air, and
leaned far back. His head came in
contact with something soft and
pulpy. This something proved to be
the dubious nose Of hobo. bowed
in slumber, bending far forward on
the bench behind him. With a shud-
der Of repulsion, Vinton Strengthened
up again.
What q den OF misery!" he NUT
tered. BY Jove, what a den."
But now the hymn was finished,
and Miss Alden had sat down again.
Vinton sighed with relief. The mis-
sionary had the floor Clapping his
hands, he cried loudly:
WELL. boys, that was better!
You're fierce on the singin', but you'll
get by on the whistlin'. Maybe you
can whistle your way into salvation.
II you can't sing your way in. Now
forget 1t, an listen to me, ann
hand you some right dope on glory"
Vinton paid little heed. He was
studying the face of Miss Alden, who
sat quietly, smiling little as she
listened to the shouts Of the eyangel-
list. Vinton thought he had never
beheld a finer face than hers. or
heard q worse, delivery than the mis-
sionary's. With that sing-song, ma
sal speech and that ever-recurring
pause after the word ''and," the fell
low would have driven critical au-
dience into the street.
But this audience, comfortably
warm, had no mind to be critical
Murmurs OF approval rose on the air,
mingled with a few wavering cries
of '.Amen!"
Lots O. you men is jailbirds, I
know, an-hard nuts" the evangelist
shouted, but it don't make no diff
ference above. There was Floochey
Campbell used to come here, AM
he was a dope fiend, forger, an
rummy, but the Lord done a work
of grace in his heart, an'-he died
last month, down to Deer island,
with his name wrote II the book O
life!t No matter II your feet is cold,
fellefs, so lopg's YOU got the fire o.
salvation in your hearts! No matter
II you're cold an'--hungry, an'-ain't
got no job, just get salvation an
you'll walk out that there door happy
oil ~
From several directions Vinton
heard furtive shores. One or two
men coughed. Many heads Were
bowed, now. tho not in prayer
bowed, or nodding.