and solemn audience. That matchless
word of gospel had touched home. There were those in the crowd who had
never realized before that the invitation was for them.

Following the hymn came another, suggested also by Dr. Vincent: "Steal
away to Jesus." It is one of the sweetest as well as one of the
strangest of African melodies; and as the tender message floated up
among the trees, a strange hush settled over the listeners; many tears
were quietly wiped away from eyes unused to weeping.

"Now sing 'Almost persuaded,'" said Dr. Vincent, his own voice tremulous
with his highly wrought feeling. Many voices took that up. Even the
Chautauqua girls sang, all but Eurie. With the sentence:

"Seems now some soul to say,
Go, spirit, go thy way;
Some more convenient day
On thee I'll call."

Flossy tamed her anxious, appealing eyes on Eurie, but she was laughing
merrily over the attempt of a feeble old man near her to join in the
song, and Flossy whispered sadly to Ruth: "Eurie has not even as much
interest as that."

The spell of the message and the music lingered, even after Dr. Vincent
had gone again. There was no more grumbling; there was very little
laughing; a subdued spirit seemed to brood over the great company.

"We could almost have a revival, right here," said one thoughtful man,
looking with searching eyes, up and down the sea of faces.

"I tell you, no grander opportunity was ever more grandly improved than
by those few words of Dr. Vincent's. They touched bottom. He will meet
those words again with joy, or I am mistaken."

But the waiting was over; suddenly the Chautauqua bells began to peal;
strains of martial music, and the roll of drums, mingled with the
booming of cannon; and almost before they were aware, even after all
their waiting, twenty thousand people stood face to face with their
nation's chief.

"When the president's head appears above this platform, I hope it will
thunder here," had been Dr. Vincent's suggestion several hours before.

Thunder! That was no comparison! I hope even _he_ was satisfied. Then
how that song of greeting rung out; tender still, even in its power:
"Let the hearts of all the people circle him with prayer." No better
gift for him than that.

After the cheering and the singing, and the very brief speech from the
president himself, came the address of welcome by Dr. Fowler of Chicago.
His first sentence sent the multitude into another storm of cheers.