1902 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



1033 



so for g-iving- a talk, are dressed in the 

 height of fashion. Brother Stuart did not 

 dress stylishly at all. He had not even ta- 

 ken pains to have his shoes shined up just 

 before he beg-an. After getting a little ac- 

 quainted with him I began to imag-ine the 

 poor fellow hadn't tiine to do so. He oug-ht 

 to have had his wife with him, but I sup- 

 pose that was impossible. I wondered, too, 

 that he did not have his hair bru-^hed a lit- 

 tle better, something' the way Mrs. Root 

 fixes mine when I am to talk before a Sun- 

 day-school convention. But I afterward de- 

 cided that it was not of much use to comb 

 his hair, for his gesticulations and all sorts 

 of motions with hands, face, feet, and mus- 

 cles would have tumbled it all up. He said 

 in the first place he was only a common- 

 place Methodist preacher. When I first 

 saw him I thought he was not even a good- 

 looking man. But I changed my mind after 

 a while. Where, then, was the secret? It 

 made me think of John the Baptist in the 

 wilderness. The Savior, in alluding to it, 

 said to the people, " What went ye out for 

 to see ? A man clothed in soft raiment ? 

 Behold, they that wear soft clothing are in 

 kings' houses." We are told in holy writ 

 that great multitudes came to henr John 

 the Briptist talk; and, dear reader. Brother 

 Stuart's talk was, I can imagine, like that 

 of John. He told people of their sins and 

 inconsistencies. While he did put it with 

 exceeding force that many of us are guilty 

 of not " voting as we pray," yet he careful- 

 ly forebore pitching into any one political 

 party. He pictured out at great length the 

 terrible consequences that were to come up- 

 on us as citizens of this great republic if we 

 allowed saloon-keepers and gamblers to 

 trample our laws under foot; and he did 

 not hesitate to call public men by name, 

 and denounce them for their half-hearted- 

 ness, not to mention their sins. He has a 

 wonderful gift of acting out the characters 

 he speaks about. The intensity of his con- 

 victions startles one. The short cuts he 

 makes in thrusting truth home, are aston- 

 ishing. He can convey in a few words 

 more great truths than any other man I 

 ever heard speak. I can take space to give 

 you onl3' one or two of his illustrations. 

 All at once he asked abruptly how many 

 saloons there were in Columbus. Somebody 

 said there were about one thousand. He 

 said that would not do. He was sure that 

 somebody in the audience could give us 

 something a little more definite. Finally a 

 voice called out, "There are, as nearly as 

 we can make out, .S76 saloons in Colum- 

 bus." At the beginning of his speech he 

 turned around abruptly, swept his eye over 

 the audience, and said, " How many of you 

 people are in the habit of saying amen 

 when you go to meeting? " Then he swung 

 around for some reason, I do not exactly 

 know why, and, looking right at me, or to- 

 ward a number of us on the stage, said, 

 "Dojvo7< ever say amen?" I nodded my 

 head, and smiled. " Well, say it tiow: 

 let's hear you." 



Then I gave one of my loudest amens; 

 but there were so many others that mine 

 was perhaps nearly drowned out. "Now 

 I want you men to say amen when you feel 

 like it; and as women's voices are hardly 

 strong enough to be heard in a crowd like 

 this, let them clap their hands. But do 

 not any of j'ou stamp your feet. The dust 

 is unwholesome." Now, then, for his story. 



He said in substance, " If there are 576 

 saloons in Columbus, and each saloon has 

 two regular customers — of course, we know 

 every saloon has more than two regular 

 customers, judging from the tax they pay; 

 but we will call it two, so that the enemy 

 can not accuse us of exaggeration. This 

 will make over lUOO regular drinkers in the 

 city who are in the habit of depriving their 

 families of their weekly wages that justly 

 belong to them. We will multiply this by 

 1000; or if you think I have not got my esti- 

 mate too great we will put it five or ten 

 thousand. One out of this army starts to 

 go home at night. We will call him John. 

 John goes into the butcher-shop and asks 

 for a dime's worth of liver. His family 

 needs some meat. Just here the keeper of 

 the saloon, where he goes regularly, comes 

 in and wants a dollar's worth of the best 

 porter-house steak. The butcher leaves 

 John waiting, while he hastens to attend to 

 the order of his rich patron. He is dressed 

 up in the highest style of fashion — has a 

 gold watch, diamond pin, takes one of the 

 most expensive cigars out of his mouth 

 while he greets John, and, after looking 

 down upon him, walks out. John has a 

 little spark of manhood left. He has a dol- 

 lar in his pocket which he was expecting 

 to invest in that saloon. He begins to con- 

 sider the matter. Why should this saloon- 

 keeper look down on him, while he displays 

 his wealth — wealth that John has at least 

 helped to furnish? Instead of going to the 

 saloon, John starts off in another direction 

 in a brown study. As he walks along he 

 shoves his hands into his pockets, and be- 

 gins to whistle." Here Mr. Stuart begins 

 to whistle "Home, Sweet Home." He 

 walked along the front of the stage and in 

 front of the audience. At the further end 

 of the stage was an exotic tree standing in 

 a tub, which was probably brought from 

 some greenhouse. John walks up to the 

 tree, gazes up into its branches as he whis- 

 tles the last refrain of Home, Sweet Home. 

 It was evidently a crisis with him. My 

 seat on the stand near the speaker was 

 such that I could see every face in that 

 vast audience. When he commenced whis- 

 tling Home, Sweet Home, I knew he was 

 swaying that vast multitude as if they were 

 a single person. That low plaintive whis- 

 tle touched hearts as nothing else could. 

 Tears started in hundreds of eyes — 3^es. 

 they started in mj- e^'es. He turned around 

 and walked back to the stand. He went 

 back to that poor desolate home. John open- 

 ed the door, and, meeting the gaze of his 

 poor wronged and famished wife, with her 

 patched-up clothing, he took the dollar out 



