was the orator's own money.

"There will be," pursued H. R., accusingly, "no waste, no scientific
un-Christianity, no half-baked philanthropy, no nonsense. On one day
next week the sun will set on our city, and not one man, woman, or child
will go to bed hungry, unless it is by his doctor's orders. All the
hungry who have no money shall be fed. As for the coupon, I have myself
already contributed the necessary funds to take care of that."

Instead of feeling irritation at the repetition, they looked at him with
a respect not often seen in a church.

"It has never been attempted. I realize that we cannot make lazy men
prosperous nor put in brains where they were left out by a wise
Providence; but we are going to abolish hunger for one day, and then see
what we can do to make conditions improve permanently. And the burden
will be shared alike by all--nobody more than twenty-five cents."

A look of resolve came over the faces of the entire audience. It was an
experiment worth trying!

"Gentlemen," added H. R., sternly, "we are going to call the bluff of
the anarchistic labor agitators!"

A storm of applause burst from the audience. H. R. held up a hand.

"In giving, it is always wise to know to whom you are giving. The
Society of American Sandwich Artists, with the aid of those who have
made New York what it is, pledges itself to see to it that the meals
find the proper bellies. There is no such thing as scientific charity
any more than there is unscientific poverty. Nobody hates to give, but
everybody wishes to give wisely. I guarantee that nobody who has money
to buy food with will be fed at our expense. _I guarantee this!_"

"_HOW?_" burst from three hundred and eighteen throats.

"That is our secret. I may add that the coupon, worth exactly ten
thousand dollars in cash, is not a lottery scheme. Gentlemen, I count
upon your cooperation. I thank you." He bowed, modestly stepped back and
nodded to Bishop Barrows. "Adjourn," he whispered.

"I have a few--" began Dr. Barrows, protestingly.

"Adjourn. The reporters will print them from your manuscript."

"But--"

H. R. took out his handkerchief and wiped his cool, unfevered brow. He
had foreseen the chairman's speech. Max Onthemaker, who had been waiting
for the signal, jumped to his feet and yelled:

"I move we adjourn!"

"Second the motion!" shrieked Andrew Barrett from a rear pew.

The Bishop had to put the motion. Not having been called upon to pledge