There had been quite a respectable response to this appeal thus far, but again it spent itself and there was a lull when Jordan, folding his arms, and looking intently before him, in several directions apparently, exclaimed in a most tragic tone:

"My Gord! Is de salvation train done stallded right in front o' Claybank chu'ch, an' we can't raise wheels ter sen' it on?

"Lord have mussy, I say! I tell yer, my brers an' sisters, you's a-treatin' de kyar o' glory wuss'n you'd treat a ole cotton mule wagon!

You is, fur a fac'!

"Ef air ole mule wagon ur a donkey-kyart was stallded out in de road in front o' dis chu'ch--don' keer ef it was loaded up wid pippy chickens, much less'n de Lord's own freight--dey ain't one o' yer but 'd raise a wheel ter sen' it on! You know yer would! An' heah de salvation train is stuck deep in de mud, an' yer know Arkansas mud _hit's mud_; hit ain't b'iled custard; no, it ain't, an' hit sticks like glue! Heah de glory kyar is stallded in dis tar-colored Arkansas glue-mud, I say, an'

I can't raise wheels enough out'n dis congergation ter sen' it on! An'

dis is de Holy Sabbath day, too, de day de Lord done special set apart _fur_ h'istin' a oxes out'n a ditch, es much less'n salvation's train.

"Now, who gwine fetch in de nex' wheel, my brothers, my sisters, my sinner-frien's? Who gwine fetch a wheel? Dat's it! Heah come a wheel--two wheels--three wheels; fetch one mo'; heah, a odd wheel; de train's a-saggin' down lop-sided fur _one mo' wheel_! Heah it come--f'om a ole 'oman, too! Shame on you, boys, ter let po' ole Aunt Charity Pettigrew, wha' nussed yo' mammies, an' is half-blin' an' deef at dat--shame on yer ter let 'er lif' dis train out'n de mud! An' yer know she kyant heah me nuther. She des brung a wheel 'caze she felt de yearth trimble, an' knowed de train was stallded!

"Oh, my brers, de yearth gwine trimble wuss'n dat one o' deze days, an'

look out de rocks don't kiver you over! Don't hol' back dis train ef you c'n he'p it on! I ain't axin' yer fur no paper greenbacks to-day _to light de ingine fire_!

"I ain't a-beggin' yer fur no gol' an' silver wheels fur de pa.s.senger trains for de saints, 'caze yer know de pa.s.senger kyars wha' ride inter de city o' de King, dey 'bleege ter have gol' and silver wheels ter match de golden streets; but, I say, I ain't axin' yer fur no gol' an'

silver wheels to-day, nur no kindlin'! De train is all made up an' de ingine is a steamin', an' de b'ilers is full. I say _de b'ilers is full_, my dear frien's.

"Full o' what? Whar do dey git water ter run dis gorspil train? Dis heah's been a mighty dry season, an' de cotton-fiel's is a-beggin' now fur water, an' I say _whar do de salvation train git water fur de ingine_?

"Oh, my po' sinner-frien's, does you want me ter tell yer?

"De cisterns long de track is bustin' full o' water, an' _so long as a sinner got o' tear ter shed_ de water ain't gwine run out!"

"Yas, Lord!" "Glory!" "Amen!" and "Amen!" with loud groans came from various parts of the house now, and many wheels were added to Glory's train by the men about the door, while Jordan continued:

"Don't be afeerd ter weep! De ingine o' Glory's kyar would o' gi'en out o' water long 'fo' now in deze heah summer dry-drouths if 'twarn't fur de tears o' sinners, an' de grief-stricken an' de heavy-hearted! I tell yer Glory's train stops ter teck in water at de mo'ner's bench eve'y day! So don't be afeerd to weep. But bring on de wheels!"

He paused here and looked searchingly about him.

There was no response. Stepping backward now and running both hands deep into his pockets, he dropped his oratorical tone, and, falling easily into the conversational, continued:

"Well, maybe you right! Maybe you right, my frien's settin' down by de do', an' my frien's leanin' 'gins' de choir banisters, an' I ain' gwine say no mo'. I was lookin' fur you ter come up wid some sort o' wheel, an' maybe a silver wheel ter match dat watch-chain hangin' out'n yo'

waistcoat-pocket; but maybe you right!

"When a man set still an' say nothin' while de voice is a callin' I reck'n he knows what he's a-doin'.

"He knows whether de wheels in his pocket is _fitt'n_ fur de gorspil kyar ur not! An' I say ter you to-day dat ef dat money in yo' pocket ain't _clean money_, don't you _dare_ ter fetch it up heah!

"Ef you made dat money sneakin' roun' henrooses in de dark o' de moon--I don't say you is, but _ef_ you is--you set right still in yo'

seat an' don't _dare_ ter offer it ter de Lord, I say!

"Ef you backed yo' wagon inter somebody else's watermillion patch by de roadside an' loaded up on yo' way ter town 'fo' sunup--I don't say you is, mind yer, but _ef you is_--set right whar you is, an' do des like you been doin', 'caze de money you made on dat early mornin' wagon load ain't fitt'n fur wheels fur de gorspil train!

"An' deze yo'ng men at de winders, I say, ef de wheels in _yo_' pockets come f'om _matchin' nickels on de roadside, or kyard-playin', or maybe drivin' home de wrong pig_. (You nee'n't ter laugh. De feller dat spo'ts de shinies' stovepipe hat of a Sunday sometimes cuts de ears off'n de shoat he kills of a Sa'day, 'caze de ears got a tell-tale mark on 'em.) _An', I say, ef you got yo' money dat a-way_, won't you des move back from de winders, please, an' meck room fur some o' dem standin' behin' yer dat got good hones' wheels ter pa.s.s in!"

This secured the window crowds intact, and now Jordan turned to the congregation within.

"An' now, dear beloved." He lowered his voice. "For sech as I done specified, _let us pray_!"

He had raised his hands and was closing his eyes in prayer, when a man rose in the centre of the church.

"Brer Jordan," he began, laughing with embarra.s.sment. "Ef some o' de brers ur sisters'll change a dime fur me--"

Jordan opened his eyes and his hands fell.

"Bless de Lord!" he exclaimed, with feeling.

"Bless de Lord, one man done claired 'isse'f! Glory, I say! Come on up, Brer Smiff, 'n' I'll gi'e you yo' change!"

"Ef--Brer Smiff'll loan _me_ dat nickel?" said a timid voice near the window.

Smith hesitated, grinning broadly.

"Ef--ef I could o' spared de dime, Mr. Small, I'd a put it in myse'f, but--but--"

"_But nothin'_! Put de dime in de hat!"

The voice came from near the front now. "Put it all in de hat, Brer Smiff. You owes me a nickel an' I'll loan'd it to Mr. Small."

And so, amid much laughter, Smith reluctantly deposited his dime.

Others followed so fast that when Jordan exclaimed, "Who gwine be de nex'?" his words were almost lost in the commotion. Still his voice had its effect.

"Heah one mo'--two mo'--fo' mo'--eight mo'! Glory, I say! An' heah dey come in de winder! Oh, I'm proud ter see it, yo'ng men! I'm proud ter see it!"

Borrowing or making change was now the order of the moment, as every individual present who had not already contributed felt called upon thus to exonerate himself from so grave a charge.

Amid the fresh stir a tremulous female voice raised a hymn, another caught it up, and another--voices strong and beautiful; alto voices soft as flute notes blended with the rich ba.s.s notes and triumphant tenors that welled from the choir, and floated in from the windows, until the body of the church itself seemed almost to sway with the rhythmic movement of the stirring hymn

"Salvation's kyar is movin'."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "SALVATION'S KYAR IS MOVIN'!"]

Still, above all, Jordan's voice could be distinguished--as a fine musical instrument, and whether breaking through the tune in a volley of exhortations, or rising superior to it all in a rich tenor--his words thrown in s.n.a.t.c.hes, or drawn out to suit his purpose--never once did it mar the wonderful harmony of the whole.

It was a scene one could not easily forget.

The shaft of low sunlight that now filled the church, revealing a bouquet of brilliant color in gay feathers and furbelows, with a generous sprinkling of white heads, lit up a set of faces at once so serious and so happy, so utterly forgetful of life's frettings and cares, that I felt as I looked upon them, that their perfect vocal agreement was surely but a faint reflection of a sweet spiritual harmony, which even if it did not survive the moment, was worth a long journey thither, for in so hearty a confession of fellowship, in so complete a laying down of life's burdens, there is certainly rest and a renewal of strength.

Feeling this to be a good time to slip out un.o.bserved, I noiselessly secured my hat from beneath the pew before me, but I had hardly risen when I perceived a messenger hurrying towards me from the pulpit, with a request that I should remain a moment longer, and before I could take in the situation the singing was over and Jordan was speaking.

What he said, as nearly as I can recall it, was as follows:

"Befo' I pernounces de benediction, I wants ter 'spress de thanks o'

dis chu'ch ter de 'oner'ble visitor wha' set 'isse'f so modes' in de las' pew dis evenin', _an' den sen' up de bigges' conterbutiom_, fulfillin' de words o' de Scripture, which say _de las' shill be fus'

an' de fus' shill be las_'.