The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1927-02-22

return bouts with the Flesh and the
! Devil.
Happiness, salvation, music, thrills
and living proofs Of the perennial
truth Of P. T. Barnum's adage may
be found in the pine-board tabernacle
where 1000 gaze at the titian-haired
spell-binder, while hundreds listen in
via an amplifier in the basement.
Wants Us On a Stretcher.
"Only the four-squared gospel will
meet the needs Of the people today.
This sick old world, like the man with
the palsy. needs to be put on a
stretcher four square, and carried to
god. We need the four cords when
we get there to let the people down
to Christ"
All this in a husky contralto, in
precise, staceato sentences, explaining
that the four cords are baptism, sal
walton, the spirit Of the holy ghost
and the second coming.
Those seated in the gallery take up
the choruses Of the elect on the main
floor "Yea, Lord" "Glory be to
God" and "Hallelujah." This is
swelled by the rumbled response Of
those who are listening in via the
basement amplifier,
Mrs. P. T. Barnum.
A maudlin crowd, except for those
who come as students of Snowman
ship to see this lady minister who
plays upon the heart-strings Of her
hearers with the deft sureness of a
Duse, Fiske or Bernhard.
Jesus will save you, Jesus will
save YOU" cries an old lady, during
an interlude.
"Our preachers need the old time
power. The church or the minister
who tries to get along without the
holy ghost is like the automobile
which you try to run without gaso-
line. The chassis is there, the wheels
and the fine paint, but what you
need to get is a gasoline station"
They swallow this raptly-the
metropolitan booboisie as well as
their yokel brethren.
Especially when Aimee emotes in
her inimitable wistful way, as APP
pealingly as an experienced pan
handler or Jackie Coogan in "The
Kid"
Gurgle, Gurgle.
people ask me how I can conduct
meeting after meeting. Well. have
YOU ever seen one of those old-fash-
Toned watering carts The cover is
opened up, tap is turned, it is filled
up and goes forth again to water the
dusty roads.
II am like that watering cart. +
reach up and turn the tap Of faith
and gurgle, gurgle, am full. The
Lord fills ME up and renews me day
by day"
Stuff like that hits the weeping
brothers and sisters like slug of
Father Johns or Lydia Pinkham's.
Then Aimee calls for hymns like
"The Hand That Was Wounded For
Me" and "Shall We Gather At The
River" and goes downstairs to pray
with those who have been listening
in. She follows this up with a piano
selection of an old hymn, kisses and
prays over any youngster that hap
pens to be near and calls it SEES
sion.
Legs And Breasts.
Beneath the long white robe she
invariably wears. set off by a dark
blue or black cape, a generous view of
her grey-clad neatly-turned ankles is
offered. And when she leans far over
the reading desk to drive message
home with an all-embracing gesture
there is more than a Faint suggestion
Of the outline Of her breasts.
A large, mobile mouth, as red |
Tipped as any you will see along /
Broadway, and amber-colored ewes, 1
are her most dominant features. Her
marcelled amber head is as aggres-
sively poised as that Of any front-row
chlorine.
Yes, Aimee knows her onions. and /
faded city editors are sure of 'front.' |
page copy as long as Aimee stays
around town, which will be just as
long as the souls she hopes to save
come across substantially.
But we still see the Devil around
his old haunts-or was that Adolphe
Menjou?
lsII -. - m