 Chapter twenty-eight of Four Girls at Chautauqua. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Four Girls at Chautauqua by Pansy. Chapter twenty-eight, Mental Problems. Dr. Deems said, Ruth, looking up from her program with a thoughtful air, I wonder if he is a man whom I have any special desire to hear. You must constantly remember the entire ignorance of these girls on all names and topics that pertain to the religious world. Ruth knew indeed that the gentleman in question was a New York clergyman. That was as far as her knowledge extended. His subject is interesting, Flossy said. I don't think it is, said Yuri. Not to me anyhow. Nature and I have nothing in common, except to have a good time together if we can get it. She is a miserably disappointed jade, I know. What has she done for us since we have been here except to arrange rainy weather? I'm going to visit his honor the mummy this morning, and from there I am going to the Old Pyramid. And I advise you to go with me, all of you. Talk about nature when there is an old fellow to see who was acquainted with it thousands of years ago. Nature is too common in a fair to be interested in. Oh, are you going to the museum? said Flossy. Then please get me one of the bliss singing books, will you? I want to secure one before they are all gone. Girls, don't you each want one of them to take home? The hymns are lovely. I don't, said Yuri, unless he is for sale to go along and sing them. I can't imagine anything tamer than to hear some commonplace voice trying to do those songs that he roars out without any effort at all. What has become of the man? He has gone, said Marian. Called home suddenly, someone told me. His singing is splendid, isn't it? I don't know but I feel much as you do about the book. Think of having Deke and Miller try to sing, only an armor-bearer. I don't mind telling you that I felt very much as if I were being lifted right off my feet and carried up somewhere, I hardly know where, when I heard him sing that. I was coming down the hill away off, you know, by the post office, know away above the post office, and he suddenly burst forth. I stopped to listen, and I could hear every single word as distinctly as I can hear you in this tent. Here, said Yuri, I guess you could. I shouldn't be surprised if they heard him over at Mayville, and that is what brings such crowds here every day. Did you ever see anything like the way the people come here anyhow? I don't feel at all as you do, said Flossie, going back to the question of singing books. After we get let down a little, only an armor-bearer will sound very well, even from common singers. It has in it what can't be taken out because a certain voice is lost, the book is full of other and simpler pieces and lovely choruses that people can catch after one hearing. Flossie is going home to introduce it into the first church, Yuri said gravely. Flossie's cheeks flushed. I had not thought of that, she said simply. Perhaps we can. In any case, get me a couple, Yuri. The discussion on the morning service ended in a division of the party. The group, who had come over early on purpose to attend, was obliged to succumb to a feeling of utter weariness and lie down. Yuri steadily refused to go to the platform meeting, assuring them that she knew Dr. Deems would be as dry as a stick all New York ministers were. So Flossie and Marion went away together, Marion with her notebook in the hope of getting an item for a newspaper letter that must be written that afternoon. They were late and almost abandoned in despair the hope of getting within hearing until a happy thought suggested a seat on the platform stair at the speaker's back. There was a crack there, Marion said, into which they presently crept. The address was already commenced. Marion listened at first with that indifferent air that a face wears when its owner perforce commences in the middle of a thing and has to wait his way into a tangible idea of what is being said. There was not long waiting, however. Her eyes began to dilate and her face to glow. She was almost a worshipper of eloquence, and surely no one ever sat for two hours and listened to a more unbroken flow of rich glowing words shining like diamonds, then fell lavishly around the listeners that Friday morning at Chautauqua. But a few minutes and Marion's pencil began to move with speed. This was the thought that had thrilled her. Then liberation from chaos, then grass, and then God stopped his work and gazed with delight on the picture he had drawn. Think what a picture it must have been. There was nothing but rocks ground down when God said, Earth grow. Then straightway the mother power fell down upon the earth, life pulsed in her veins, and the baby shoot of grass sprang up, and the rocky earth wrapped herself in her garment of emerald, and God, stopping his work, said, useful, beautiful. When the speaker touched upon the doctrine of the resurrection, Marion's pencil paused, and she leaned eagerly forward to get a glimpse of his face. That doctrine had seemed to her doubting heart the strangest, wildest, most hopeless of the Christian theories. If clear light could shine on that, could there not on anything? Her face was aglow with interest not only, but with anxiety. This morning, for the first time in her life, she could be called an honest doubter. She had fancied herself able to believe anything of which her reason had been convinced. But she found, to her surprise and dismay, that so fixed had the habit of unbelief become, it seemed impossible to shake it off, and that she needed to be convinced and reconvinced that her questionings came in on every hand, seized upon the smallest point, and tormented her without mercy. What about this strange story of the resurrection? As she listened, a subdued smile broke over her face, a smile of sarcasm, how very absurdedly simple the argument from nature was, how utterly unanswerable. And after the sentence, tell me how that wonderful field of waving grain came from the bare kernels of corn, and I will tell you how my blessed baby shall rise an angel. Marian said in tone so distinct that it struck on Flassie's ear like a knell. What a fool! Not the speaker as the dismayed and disappointed Flassie supposed, but herself. The measure of every man is his faith, said Dr. Deems. The greatest thing a human being can do is not to perceive, nor to compare, nor to reason, but to believe. And again Marian smiled. If this were true, what a pygmy she must be! She began to more than suspect that she was. Don't waste time, said the doctor, in trying to reconcile science and the Bible. Science wasn't intended to teach religion. The Bible wasn't intended to teach science. But wherever they touched, they agree. God sends his servants, scientific men, all abroad through nature to gather facts with which to illustrate the Bible. Marian began to write again, but it was only in snatches here and there. Not that there was not that which she longed to catch, but she could not write it, the sentences just poured forth, and how perfectly aglow with light and beauty they were. This one sentence she presently wrote. In the black ink of his power God wrote the book of nature. In the red ink of his love he wrote the Bible. And all this power is to bring us all to this love. Oh, to rest in arms like these. Are they not strong enough? Suddenly Marian closed her book and slipped her pencil into her pocket. She could not write. And although she thrilled through every nerve over the majestic sentences that followed, and was carried to a pitch of enthusiasm almost beyond her control, and the jubilant thunder of thousands of voices rang together in the matchless closing words, blessing and glory and thanksgiving and honor and power and might, be unto our God forever and ever, amen. She made no further attempt to write. Her heart was full. There rang in it this eager cry. Oh, to rest in arms like these. Strong enough, I indeed. Doubts were forever set at rest. The maker of all nature could be none other than God, and the God of nature was the God of the Bible. It was as clear as the sunlight. Reason was forever satisfied, but there lingered yet the hungering cry. Oh, to rest in arms like these. And Flossie said not a word to her of the resting place, not because she had not found it strong and safe, not because she did not long to have her friend rest there, but because of that despairing murmur in her heart, what is the use in saying anything? Had she not heard with her own ears Miriam's sneering sentence in the face of the unanswerable arguments that had been presented? I wonder how often we turn away from harvest fields that are ready for the reaper because we mistake for a sneer that which is the admission of a convicted soul. By afternoon Ruth was rested and ready for meeting. If the truth be known it was her troubled brain which had tired her body and obliged her to rest. She had begun to take up that problem of Christian work. The platform meeting of the evening before and more than anything else, Dr. Niles's address had fanned her heart into a flame of desire to do something for the master. But what could she do? She and Flossie had talked it over together after they reached their room at the hotel. In fact, they talked away into the night. I don't know, Flossie said with a little laugh, but I shall have to depend on the unconscious influence which I exert to do my work for me. I don't know of anything which I can actually do. Dr. Niles made a great deal of that. Yes, Ruth said, but you see, Flossie, the people whose unconscious influence does any good are the ones after all who are moving around trying to do something. I don't feel sure that he lets the unconscious influence of the drone's amount to much unless it is in the wrong scale. Dr. Niles made a good deal of that, you remember. Don't you like him ever so much, Ruth? Why, yes, Ruth said again, turning her pillow wearily. I liked him, of course. How could I help it? But after all, he made me very uncomfortable. I seem to feel as though I must find something to do. I have a great deal of time to make up. I tell you what it is, Flossie. I wish you and I could do something for those two girls. Isn't it strange that they are not interested? But they are not. Flossie said it as positively as if she could see right into their hearts. I think Marion is worse than ever. And as for Yuri, she won't even go to the meetings, you know. I know, perhaps we would only do harm to try. But what can we do? I am sure I don't see anything. And don't you know how clearly Dr. Niles made it appear that there was a special work for each one? So they discussed the question, turning it over and over, and getting almost no light, coming to feel themselves very useless and worthless specs on the sea of life until late in the night, Flossie said. I tell you what it is, Ruth. We must just ask for work. Little bits of work, you know, and then keep our eyes open until it comes. I know of things I can do when I get home. So do I, said Ruth, but I want to begin now. Silence for a few minutes and then Flossie asked. Ruthie, have you written to Mr. Wayne? No, said Ruth, her cheeks flushing even in the darkness. I wrote a long letter just before this came to me, but I burned it and I am glad of it. Then they went to sleep, but the desire for the work did not fade with the daylight. Flossie had even been tempted to say a humble little word to Marion, but had been deterred by the sound of that sneer of which I told you. And Ruth, lying on her bed, had revolved the subject and sent up many in earnest prayer and went out to afternoon service, resolved upon keeping her eyes very wide open. The special attraction for the afternoon was a conference of primary class teachers. They were out in full force and were ready for any questions that might fill the hearts and the mouths of eager listeners. Our girls had each their special favorites among these leaders. Ruth found herself attracted and deeply interested in every word that Mrs. Clark uttered. Marion was making a study of both Mrs. Knox and Miss Morris and found it difficult to tell which attracted her most. Even Yuri was ready for this meeting. She had never been able to shake off the thought of Miss Ryder and her eager enthusiasm for this work while Flossie had been fascinated and carried away captive by the magnetic voice and manner of Mrs. Partridge. She makes me glow, Flossie said, in trying to explain the feeling to the calmer Ruth. Her life seems to quiver all through me and make me long to reach after it, to have the same power which she has over the hearts of wild, uncared-for children. And Ruth looked down on the exquisite bit of flesh and blood beside her and thought of her elegant home and her elegant mother and of all the softening and innervating influences of her city life and laughed. How little had she in common with such work as that to which Mrs. Partridge had given her soul. Keeping her eyes open as she had planned to do, this same Flossie saw as she was passing down the aisle the hungry face of one of her boys as she had mentally called the Arabs with whom her life had brushed on the Sunday morning. The word just described it still, a hungry face like one hanging wistfully around the outskirts of a feast in which he had no share. Flossie let go her hold of Ruth's arm and darted toward him. How do you do? She said in winning voice before he had even seen her. I'm real glad to see you again. If you will come with me, I will get a seat for you. A lady is going to speak this afternoon who has 500 boys in her class in Sunday school. Now the Flossie of two weeks ago, if she could have imagined herself in any such business would have been utterly disgusted with the result and gone away with her pretty nose very high. The boy turned his dirty face toward her and said calmly, what a whopper. The experience of a lifetime could not have answered more deftly. You come and see. I am almost certain she will tell us about some of them. Still he stared and Flossie waited with her pretty face very near to his and her pretty hand held coaxingly out. Come, she said again and it could not have been more to the boy's surprise than it was to hers that he presently said, well, go ahead. I can send if I don't like it. I'll follow. And he did. End of chapter 28, recording by Tricia G. Chapter 29 of Four Girls at Chautauqua. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Four Girls at Chautauqua by Pansy. Chapter 29, Waiting. It required Flossie's eyes and heart both to keep watch of her boy during the progress of that meeting. The novelty of the scene, the strangeness of seeing ladies occupying the speaker stand, kept him quiet and alert until Mrs. Partridge, that woman with wonderful power over the forgotten, neglected portion of the world, arrested all his bewildering thoughts and centered them on the strange stories she had to tell. Did you ever hear her tell that remarkable story of her first attempt at controlling that remarkable class, which came under her care many years ago in St. Louis? It is full of wonder and pathos and terror and fascination, even to those who are somewhat familiar with such experiences. But Flossie and her boy had never heard or dreamed of its like. No, I am wrong. The boy had dreamed of scenes just so wild and daring, but even he had not fancied that such people ever found their way to Sunday schools. Peanuts, cigars, a pack of cards and a bowie knife. Imagine yourself, teacher, to be seated before your orderly and courteous class of boys next Sunday morning and find them transformed into beings represented by such surroundings as these. It was Mrs. Partridge's experience. How fascinating that story is. That one incorrigible boy, the one with the bowie knife, the one who would make no answer to her questions, show no interest in her stories, ignore her very presence and go on with his horrible mischief until it even came to a stabbing affray right there in the classroom. Imagine her meeting that boy 10 years afterward when he was not only a man, but a gentleman. Not only that, but a Christian and not only that, but a working Christian, superintending a mission Sunday school, giving his best energies and his best time to work like that. Think of being told by him that the determination to amount to anything was taken that morning 10 years before when he seemed not to be listening nor caring. What is 10 years of Christian work when we can hope for such results as that? Flossie had forgotten her charge. Her face was all aglow, so was her heart. She knew more about Christian work than she did an hour before. She had learned that we must take the step that plainly comes next to be taken no matter for the darkness of the day and the apparent gloom of the future. Work is ours. Results are God's. This life business is divided. Partnership with God. Nothing but the work to do so that it is done to the utmost limit of our best, the responsibility is the Lord's. That was blessed. She could dare to try. Meantime, the boy. He had listened in utmost silence and with eyes that never for an instant left the speaker's face. When the spell was broken, he drew a long sigh and this was his mighty conclusion. That chap was enough sight meaner than I'd ever be and yet he got to be some. I'll be blamed if I don't see what can be done in that line. A small beginning, so small that on Flossie's face it excited only smiles. She was ignorant, you know. To Mrs. Partridge, that sentence would have been worth a wedge of gold but it is possible that Flossie's first simple little reach after work may have fruit to bear. It is difficult to begin to tell about that next day at Chautauqua. There was so much crowded into it that it would almost take a little book of itself. The morning was spent by a large class of people in a state of excited unrest and expectancy. The sensible ones by the hundreds and indeed I suppose I may say by the thousands went to the morning service as usual and heard the children's sermon delivered by Dr. Newton and those who did not and who afterward had the misfortune to fall in with those who did bemoaned their folly in not doing likewise. On the whole the children and those who had brains enough to become children for the time being were the only comfortable ones at Chautauqua that Saturday morning. The president was coming so apparently was the rest of the world. Oh, the throngs and throngs that continually arrived. It of itself was a rare and never to be forgotten novelty to those who had never in their lives before seen such a vast army of human beings gathered into a small space and all perfectly quiet and correct and even courteous in their deportment. Where are the drunken men? said Marion looking around curiously on the constantly increasing throng. We always read of them as being in great crowds. Yes, and people who swear, added Urie, I haven't heard an oath this morning and I have roamed around everywhere. I must say Chautauqua will bear off the palm for getting together a most respectable looking, well behaved rabble. That is what I overheard a sour looking old gentleman who doesn't approve of having a president or of letting him come to a religious meeting. I don't know which say would rush in today. It certainly is a remarkably orderly rush. Girls, look at Dr. Vincent. I declare Chautauqua has paid just to watch him. He ought to be the president himself. I mean to vote for him when female suffrage comes in or a king. Wouldn't he make a grand king? How he would enjoy ordering the subjects and enforcing his laws. All of which he seems able to do now, Marion said. I don't believe he would thank you for a vote. His realm is large enough and he seems to have willing subjects. He has go ahead a tiffness, Urie said. What is the proper word for that school, ma'am? Executive ability, that's it. Those are splendid words and they ought to be added to his name. I tell you what girls, I wish we could cut him up into seven men and take him home with us. Seven first class men made out of him and distributed through the towns about us would make a new order of things. All this was being said while they were scrambling with the rest of the world down to the auditorium to secure seats for the grand afternoon had arrived and people had been advised to be in their seats as soon after one o'clock as they could make it convenient. How soon will that be, I wonder, Marion said, quoting this sentence from Dr. Vincent's advice given in the morning and holding up her watch to show that it was five minutes of one. It looks to me as though those deluded beings who arrive here at one o'clock will have several hours of patient waiting before they will make it convenient to secure seats. Just stand a minute girls and look, it is worth seeing. Away back just as far as I can see there is nothing but heads. The aisles are full and space between the seats and the office is full and the people are just pouring down from the hill in a continuous stream. To look that way you wouldn't think that they had got down here yet. Now I really wish I had a photograph of that gathering of people to put right in here on this page. Many of them would have looked much better at this point than they did after four hours of patient waiting. How that crowd did fidget and fix and change position as far as it was possible to change when there was not an inch of unoccupied space. How they talked and laughed and sang and grumbled and yawned and sang again. It was a tedious waiting. It had its irresistibly comic side. There were those among the Shatakwa girls who could see the comic side of things with very little trouble. The material out of which they made some of their fun might have appeared very meager to orderly decorous people, but they made it. What infinite sport they got out of the fidgety lady before them who could not get herself and her three children seated to her mind. Those ladies who labored so industriously in order that the nation's flags, draping the stand, should float gracefully over the nation's chief were an almost inexhaustible source of amusement to our girls. Look, said Yuri, that arrangement doesn't suit. Some of the stars are hidden. See them twitch it. It will be down. Now that one has it looked just to her fancy. No, I declare there it comes down again. The other one twitched it this time. They are not of the same mind. Girls do look. It is fun to watch them. They work as though the interests of this meeting all turned on the right arrangement of that flag. By this time, the attention of the girls was engaged and the number of witty remarks that were made at the expense of those flags would no doubt have disconcerted the earnest workers there at. Could they have heard them? The hours waned and the president did not arrive. The waiters assayed to sing but to lead such an army of people was a difficult task especially when there was no one to lead, such singing. We came out ahead anyhow, said Flossy, stopping to laugh. Five or six thousand people had finished their verse while five or six thousand in the rear were in the third line of it. We need Mr. Bliss or Mr. Sherwin or somebody, said Ruth. What a pity that they have all gone and Dr. Torge hasn't come. I thought he was to be here. Presently came a singer to their rescue. The girls did not know who he was, but he led well and the singing became decidedly enjoyable. Suddenly he disappeared and they went back again into utter confusion. They stopped singing and began to grumble. We're arrangements anyhow, said a surly looking man in front. Why didn't they have a speaker ready to address this throng instead of keeping us waiting here with nothing to entertain us? I know it, said Marion, briskly addressing herself to her party. Dr. Vincent has not used his accustomed foresight. He ought to have known that the presidential party would be three hours late and filled up the program with speeches, especially since there has been such a dearth of speech making during the past two weeks. We are really hungry for an address. I don't know who would have undertaken the task however, unless they sent for Gabriel or some other celestial. I know I have no desire to listen to a common mortal. Before them, said a lady absorbed in a book. During the singing she joined heartily and when Dr. Vincent came on one of his numerous journeys to try to encourage the crowd with the information that the party waited for had not yet arrived, she stood and listened with the rest, but always with her finger between the leaves as if the place was too interesting to be lost. Yuri's curiosity rose to such a pitch that she leaned forward for a peep at the title page and drew back suddenly. It was a copy of the teacher's Bible. A silence fell upon the company near the front, broken suddenly by an old lady who leaned lovingly toward her chubby-faced grandson and said, Frankie, you must look in a few minutes and you will see the president of the United States. That is good news anyhow, spoke forth a rough-looking, good-natured man nearby and the listeners, who were in that excited state of weariness and waiting, that they were ready to laugh or cry as the slightest occasion offered, burst forth into roars of laughter which rang back among the crowds behind and enticed them to join, though I suppose not twenty of the laughers knew what the joke was if indeed there was one. A sudden rush, someone occupied the stand, a notice. A telegram, said a ringing voice, for Mrs. C. G. Hammond, marked death. A sympathetic murmur ran through the great company as they moved and wedged and fell back and did almost impossible things to make a road out of that dense throng of humanity for the one to whom the president had suddenly become an insignificance. Just then came the Wyoming Trio. Blessings on them, whoever they are. Nothing ever could have fitted in more splendidly than they did just there and then, and the singing rested and helped them all. Now a sensation came in the shape of a poem that had been written for the occasion and was to be learned to sing in greeting to the president, how they rang those jubilant words through those old trees, tender touching words with a shatakwa keynote quivering all through them. Greet him, let the air around him, benedictions bear, let the hearts of all the people circle him with prayer. I wonder if he realizes what a blessed thing it is to be circled with prayer, said she of the teacher's Bible, turning a thoughtful face upon the four girls who had attracted her attention. I wonder who Mary A. Lathbury is, said Yuri, reading from the poem. She is a poet whoever she is. There isn't a line in this that is simply rhyme. I doubt if the president ever had such a rhythmical tribute as that. She is the lady with blue eyes and curls who designs the pictures in that charming child's paper which flutters around here. I have forgotten the name of it, but the pictures are little poems themselves. This was Flossie's bit of information. Which designs them, the blue eyes are the curls, Mary and asked gravely, and then these four simpletons burst into a merry laugh. Still the president did not appear. The audience had exhausted their resources and their good humor. Ominous grumblings and crossfaces began to predominate. Some darkly hinted that he was not coming at all and that this was a design to draw the immense crowd together. Nobody believed it, but many were in a mood to pretend that they did. I never believed in this thing, said a tall, dark-faced, solemn featured man, speaking in a voice loud enough to attract the crowd in front. This sensation business I don't believe in. What do we want of the president here? Who cares to see him? I don't like it. I believe it is all wrong turning a religious meeting upside down for a sensation, and I told them so. Our friend Marion, you will remember, was gifted with a clear voice and a saucy tongue. If he doesn't like it, she said quickly, and doesn't want to see the president, why do you suppose he has kept one of the best chairs for four mortal hours? Don't you think that is selfish? Which sentence caused ripples of laughter all about them and quenched the solemn visaged man? But it was growing serious this waiting. It was a great army of people to be kept at rest, and though they had been quiet and decorous enough thus far, it was not to be presumed that they were all people governed by nice shades of propriety. Would the disappointment break forth into any disagreeable demonstrations? Dr. Vincent had done what he could. He had appeared promptly on the arrival of dispatches and given the latest news that the telegraph and the telescope could send. But what can any mortal man do who has arranged for people to come who do not come, except wait for them with what patience he can command? At this ominous moment, he appeared before them again, not a notice this time, something which shone in his eyes and quivered in every vein and rang in his trumpet-like voice. This was what he said. End of chapter 29, recording by Tricia G. Chapter 30 of Four Girls at Chautauqua. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Four Girls at Chautauqua by Pansy. Chapter 30, Settled Questions. Dear friends, I should bear a burden on my conscience if I did not come to you today with the old, old story. Over the tent which has been prepared for the President of the United States, there glows done in evergreen, this single word, rest. As I pass it, I am reminded of another and a different rest, the rest from every burden, every anxiety, every pain, every sin. Who has rested in these everlasting arms? There is coming a day when all this throng of human life gathered here shall wait for the coming of the King. Yay, even the King of kings. Should that time be today, who is ready? Do you know his power? Do you know his grace? Do you know his love? Through the atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ, every one of you may have that King for your father. I am commissioned this day to bring this invitation to each one of you. Come unto me, all ye that are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Will you come? Pardon this interruption. No, I will not ask your pardon. It is never an interruption to bring good news from the King to his subjects. I will not weary you with a long presentation. I have only this message. You are all invited to come to the Lord Jesus Christ and be saved from every possible calamity. You are all invited to come now. I am going to ask the Tennesseans to sing one of my favorites. Brother, don't stay away, for my Lord says there's room enough, room enough in the heaven for you. Never were tender words more tenderly sung. Never did they steal out upon the hearts of a more hushed 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 persuade it, said Dr. Vincent, his own voice tremulous with his highly wrought feeling. Many voices took that up, even the Chautauqua girl saying, all but Yuri, with the sentence, seems now some soul to say, go spirit, go thy way, some more convenient day on thee I'll call. Flossie turned her anxious, appealing eyes on Yuri, but she was laughing merrily over the attempt of a feeble old man near her to join in the song. And Flossie whispered sadly to Ruth, Yuri 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 peel, 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, 20,000 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, there 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. Said he, the work that I thought to do has been done by 20,000 people. How could they help doing it again after that? Chautauqua had not dropped her colors in this plan of an afternoon given to the president. The address of welcome from first to last rang with the gospel invitation, come. No better word than that even for their chief, honor to whom honor is due, quoted the speaker, and then followed his graceful tribute, but it closed with a tender, dignified, earnest appeal to the president of the United States to rest in the same refuge, to enlist under the same flag, to be loyal to the same chief whom they were meant to serve. Out of my heart, said he, as a man who recognizes God as the supreme ruler of Assal, I bid you come with us and we will do you good, for the Lord has spoken good concerning Israel. Poor Yuri, what a place she had chosen if she desired to hear no more preaching. What were all these exercises, but sermons, one after the other, strong, warm, unanswerable appeals to be loyal to the great chief? Certainly Dr. Deems was not the man to forget the greater in his greeting to the under ruler, nor did he. Let me speak to you in closing, said he, to you and to this assembly out of my heart. We shall never all stand together again until that great white throne shall stop in mid-heavens, and we shall stand to meet the chiefest of all chiefs. O men and brethren, shall we not all prepare to meet there? Mr. President, every day prayer is made for you. We are hoping to meet with you in heaven. Brave men who stood beside you in the late war and have gone on ahead are hoping to greet you there. May you have a good life, a happy life, a blessed life, and may other tongues more eloquent than mine, more eloquent than even my brothers who preceded me, bid you welcome one day to the general assembly of the firstborn. Amen and amen. What could better close the matchless greetings than to have the Tennesseans circle around their president and sing again that ringing chorus? I've been redeemed, been washed in the blood of the Lamb. I don't know what will become of the grumblers, Marianne said, as they rested in various stages of dishabil and talked the exciting scenes over. They have been shamefully left in the lurch. They were going to have this affair a demoralizing dissipation from first to last unworthy of the spirit of Chautauqua. And if more solemn or more searching or more effective preaching could be crowded into an afternoon than has been done here, I should like to be shown how. What do you think of your choice of entertainments, Yuri? You thought it would be safe to attend the president's reception, you remember? I don't tell all I think, Yuri answered, and then she went out among the trees. Truth to tell, Yuri had heard that from which she could not get away. Dr. Vincent's words were still sounding. You are invited to come to Jesus and be saved. You are invited to come now. There had been nothing to dissipate that impression, everything to deepen it. And the thought that clung and repeated itself to her heart was that plaintive wail almost persuaded now to believe. That was certainly herself. She felt it, knew it. In the face of that knowledge, think how solemn the words grew. Almost will not prevail, almost is but to fail. Sad, sad, that bitter wail, almost but lost. Was that for her too? In short, Yuri out there alone among the silent trees felt and admitted this fact, that the time had actually come to her when this question must be decided, either for or against, and decided forever. Sunday morning at Shatakwa, a white day. There can be none of all that throng who spent the 15th day of August, 1875, in that sacred place who remember it without a thrill. A perfect day, glorious and glowing sunshine everywhere, and beauty, such perfect beauty of lake and grove. The God of nature smiled lovingly on Shatakwa that morning. Our girls seemed to think that the perfect day required perfection of attire, and it was noticeable that the taste of each settled on spotless white without color or ornament, other than a spray of leaves and grasses, which one and another of them gathered almost without knowing it and placed in belt or hair. Outward calm but inward unrest, at least so far as some were concerned, Marion Wilbur among the number. It was a very heavy heart that she carried that day. There was no unbelief, that demon was conquered. Instead there was an overpowering, terrible certainty, and now came Satan with the whole of her past life which had turned to sin before her and hurled it on her poor shrinking shoulders until she felt almost to faint beneath the load. She lay miserably on her bed and thought that she could not add to her burden by going to the service that she already knew too much. But an appeal from Flossie to keep her company as the others had gone had the effect of changing her mind. Armed each with a camp chair, they made their way to the stand after the great congregation were seated. A fortunate thought those camp chairs had been. There was not a vacant seat anywhere. Marion placed her chair out of sight both of stand and speaker but within hearing and gave herself up to her own troubled thoughts until the opening exercises were concluded and the preacher announced his text, the place that is called Calvary. She roused a little and tried to determine whose voice it was. It had a familiar sound, but she could not be sure and she tried to go back to the useless questionings of her own heart, but she could not. She could never be deaf to eloquence. Whoever the speaker was, there was that in his very opening sentences which roused and held her. Whatever he had to say, whether or not it was anything that had to do with her, she must listen. Still the wonderment existed as to which voice it was. But when he reached the sentences, jump the ages, come down here to Chautauqua Lake today, oh son of God, oh son of man, oh son of Mary. When the prophet of old said, he shall see of the travail of his soul and shall be satisfied, did he look along the centuries and see the gathered thousands here who have just sung, tell me the old, old story? What story? Why the story of the place that is called Calvary? Marion leaned forward and addressed the person next to her. Isn't that Dr. Deems, she said. Yes, indeed was the answer spoken with enthusiasm. And Marion drew back and listened. That sermon, Marion tried to report it, but it was like trying to report the role of the waves on the Atlantic. She could only listen with beating heart and flushing cheek. Presently, she listened with a new interest for the divisions of the subject were, God's thought of sin and God's thought of mercy. Though the morning was warm, she shivered and drew her rap closer about her. God's thought of sin, she was in a mood to comprehend in a measure what a fearful thought it might be. Some men, said the speaker, make light of sin. Yes, she had done it herself. Where shall we learn what God thinks of it? On Sinai? No, God spoke there in thunder and lightning till the very hills shook and trembled. And what were they doing down below? Dancing around a golden calf. I tell you, it is only at Calvary that we can learn God's idea of sin. For at Calvary, because of sin, God the Father surrendered his communion with God the Son. And on Calvary, God died. Will God ever forgive sin? Many a one has carried that question around in his soul until it burned there. Now you can imagine how Marion tried no more to write, thought no more about eloquence. This question which had become to her the one terrible question of life was being looked into. How will we find out? Go by science into nature and there's no proof of it. God never forgives what seems to be the mistake of even a reptile. I cannot tell you about the rest of that sermon. I took no notes of it. My notes ended abruptly in the middle of a sentence. One cannot write out words that are piercing to their hearts. I doubt if even Marion Wilbur can give you any satisfactory account of the wording of the sentences. And yet Marion Wilbur rose up at its close with cheeks aglow not only with tears but smiles. And the question, will God ever forgive sin? She could answer. There was a place where the burden would roll away at the place called Calvary. She knew it, believed it, felt it. Why should she not? She had been there in very deed that summer morning. He had seen again of the travail of his soul. He was one soul nearer to being satisfied. There were other matters of interest, those two Bibles, symbol of the Chautauqua Pulse, that were presented to the nation's highest officer. The address which accompanied them, simple earnest gospel, the hymn they sang, everything was full of interest. But Marion let it pass by her like the sound of music and the words in her heart that kept time to it all were the closing words of that sermon. Here I could forever stay, sit and sing my life away. This is more than life to me, lovely mournful Calvary. It was so all day. She went to the afternoon service. She listened to Dr. Fowler's sermon, not as she had ever listened to one before. The sermon for the first time was for her. When people listen for themselves, there is a difference. She felt fed and strengthened. She joined in the singing as her voice had never joined before. They were singing about her savior. Then she went back to her tent. I am not going tonight, she said to the girls. I am full, I want nothing more today. Preached out, I declare, said Yuri. Are you going to write out your report for the paper? I wouldn't, Marion. I would go to the meeting. I am going. No, said Marion in answer to the question and smiling at the thought. How strange it would seem to her to spend this Sabbath evening thus. How many had she so spent? I am glad tomorrow is the last day, she said, sinking into a chair. I want to go home. And Flossie and Ruth looked at each other inside. How well these girls understood one another. Why can't people be frank and speak so that they can be understood? Suppose Marion had said, No, I am not going to write my report. I am going to pray. Suppose she had said, Yes, I want to go home to practice. End of Chapter 30, Recording by Tricia G. Chapter 31 of Four Girls at Chautauqua. This Librebox recording is in the public domain. Four Girls at Chautauqua by Pansy. Chapter 31, The Beginning of the End. It is a troublesome fact that, even when people are very much interested and very eager over important themes, commonplace and comparatively trivial duties will intrude and insist upon being done at that moment. For instance, our girls were obliged to spend the whole of Monday morning in packing their trunks and satchels, returning their furniture, settling for their tents and the like. In short, breaking up housekeeping and getting ready to go back to the civilized world. Flossie and Ruth dispatched their part at the hotel promptly and came over to the grounds to help the others. They discussed the meeting while they worked. If we hadn't been idiots, Marion said, we should have attended that normal class and been graduating this morning instead of being down here at work at our trunks and unknown to fame. Well, you wouldn't go, Ruth answered. Don't you know you declared that it was too much like work and you hadn't an idea of learning anything? Oh, yes, said Marion. I remember a great many things I have said that I would quite as soon forget. By dint of eager bustling from one point to another, the work was accomplished by noon and all the girls were ready for the afternoon service, which all seemed equally eager to attend. When they reached the stand, they looked about them in surprise and dismay. Everybody is gone, said Flossie. Only look, there are ever so many unoccupied seats. Marion laughed, and ever so many that are occupied, she said. My child, you have been so used to counting audiences by the thousands that 16 or 1700 people look rather commonplace to you. However, there are more than that number here, I think. It soon became a matter of small importance, whether there were few or many, so long as they had the good fortune to be there themselves and to have the company of Dr. Even Torge. Now, it so happened that among these four girls, there were two to whom God had given special gifts, though neither of them had ever considered that there were such things as gifts from God, which they were bound to use in his service. There was Ruth Erskine, who had capabilities for music in the ends of her fingers that would have almost entranced the angels. What did she do with her talent? Almost nothing. She hated the sickly sentimentalities which, set to music, find their way into fashionable parlors by the score. She was not in the society that knew of or craved the higher grander kind of music. And because she did and did not know it, she simply palled of the kind within her reach and let her gift lie waste. Then there was Marion, whose voice was simply grand, both in power and tone. What had she done with her voice? Sung by the hour to the old father, whose tender memory lingered with her today, less than nothing with it since. No one knew she could sing. She hated singing in school. She never went anywhere else, so only occasionally could the four walls of her upper back room have testified that there was a talent buried there. Did Dr. Torge travel from Boston to Chautauqua for the purpose of inspiring and educating these two girls? I don't suppose he knew of their existence, but that makes no difference. They are working out his lecture all the same. In fact, it is nearly a year since these Chautauqua girls came home. And if you have any sort of desire to know what Chautauqua theories develop into when put to the test, please keep a sharp look out for the Chautauqua girls at home. As the familiar talk on music went on, Ruth with her eyes aglow, began to plan in her own heart, first what she might do, and presently what she would do. And Marion at the other end of the seat went through the same process, neither imagining that these same doings would bring them together and lead to endless other doings. But that is just the way in which life is going on everywhere, who imagined that what you did yesterday would lead your neighbor to do what he has done today. Luther said, next to theology, I play sacred music. This was the sentence that started a train of thought for Ruth. After that, she listened in order that she might work. Never use an interlude in church. I pray God that I may be forgiven for the fiddle-fatal that I have strummed on organs in the name of interludes. This delighted Marion. She hated interludes. She hated quartet choirs. She had steadily refused to be beguiled into one by the few who knew that she could sing. So when Dr. Torge said, think of the grand old hymn from all that dwell below the skies, let the creators praise arise, being warbled by one voice, a grand chorus of four coming in on the third line. Marion was entirely in sympathy with him and eager for work in the way in which he pointed out. It was an enjoyable afternoon in every respect, but to our girls, it was much more than that. It was an education. Every one of them got ideas which they were eager to put into practice, and they saw their ways clear to practice them to some purpose. When the service was over and the audience moved away, a sense of sadness and loneliness began to creep over many. Snatches of remark could be heard on all sides. Where is Dr. Fowler? Gone, went this morning. Where is the Miller Party? Oh, they went some time ago. When did the president leave? It's all about go, Yuri said. Look how they are crowding down to the boat and only a stray one now and then coming up from there, who would have supposed that it could make us feel so forlorn. I am glad we are not to be at the morning meeting. I am not sure, but I should cry of homesickness. I say, girls, let's go to Palestine. Which suggestion was greeted with delight and they immediately went. A great many were of the same mind. Mr. Van Lanep in full Turkish dress was leading the way and giving his familiar lecture on the, to him, familiar spots. The girls stood near him by the sea of Galilee and heard his tender farewell words and his hope that they would all meet on the other side of Jordan. It was hard to keep back the quiet tears from falling. They climbed Mount Hermann in silence and looked over at Mount Lebanon. They came back by way of Caesarea and turned aside to take a last look at Japa down by the sea. In almost total silence, this walk back was accomplished. What was the matter with them all? Mr. Roberts had joined them and he and Flossie walked on ahead, but their voices were subdued and their subject to judge from their faces, quieting to say the least. Then they all went to take their last supper at Shatakwa, not one of them grumbled over anything. Indeed, they all agreed that the board had certainly improved very much during the last few days and that it was really remarkable that such a throng of people could have been served so promptly and courteously and on the whole so well as had been done there. Still it was strange to have plenty of elbow room and to see the waiters moving leisurely up and down the long halls. No one in haste, no one kept waiting. As they rose from the table, a gentleman passed through. They had passed each other every day for a week. They had no idea what his name was and I suppose he knew as little about them, but he paused before them. Goodbye, he said and held out his hand. I hope we shall all meet at the assembly up there. Goodbye, they answered and they shook hands. None of them smiled, none of them thought it strange, though they had never been introduced. It was the Shatakwa brotherhood of feeling, but after two weeks of experience and much practice in that line, it was impossible to rid oneself of the feeling that one must hurry down to the stand in order to secure seats. So they hurried and had a new experience. They were among the first twenty on the ground. The audience will be utterly lost tonight in this immense array of seats, Flossy said in dismay. Doesn't it feel forlorn? But they took their seats and presently came Miss Ryder and seated herself at the piano in the twilight and the tunes she played were soft and tender and weird. Every note says goodbye, said Ruth, and she gave a little sigh. Presently the calcium lights began to glow as usual and meantime though everybody was supposed to have left, still the people came from somewhere and at last dismayed voices began to say, why did you ever see the like? I thought we should surely get good seats tonight. Where do all the people come from? Look, Marian, said Urie. What would Dr. Harris think of such a congregation as this? They could not get into our church, could they? But just then the hymn claimed attention. My days are gliding swiftly by. How swiftly these days had glided away, how full they had been. During the prayer that followed all heads bowed and the silence that fell upon them made it seem that all hearts joined. Dr. Vincent was the first speaker. His manner and voice had changed. Both were subdued. He looked like a man who had been lifted up for a great mental strain and was gradually letting down again to earth. We are coming toward the close, he said. We are more quiet than we have been here before. Familiar faces and forms that have moved in and out among these trees for two weeks past have gone. Only a few hours and we are going. Only a few hours and utter silence will fall upon Chautauqua. Oh dear, murmured Urie. Why will he be so forlorn? I don't see why I need care so much. Who would have supposed I could? Hush, said Marian, and she surreptitiously wiped away a tear. A love-feast, Dr. Vincent said they were going to have for that last evening. It was very much like that. The farewell from Canada came next. The speaker said he had been thawed out, meant to have America annexed to Canada. Indeed, they had already been annexed in heart and soul. Who's who, said he, and what's what, who knows? There was just enough of the comical mixed with the pathetic in this address to steady many a tremulous heart. Dr. Presbury followed in much the same strain, closing though with such a tender tribute to some who had been at the assembly the year before and had since gone to join the assembly that never breaks up, that the tears came to the surface again. But those blessed Tennesseans just at that point made the grounds ring with the chorus. Oh jubilee, jubilee, the Christian religion is jubilee and followed it with, I've been a long time in the house of God and I ain't got weary yet. By that time our girls looked at each other with faces on which tears and smiles struggled for the mastery. Shall we laugh or cry, whispered Yuri, and then they giggled outright. But they sobered instantly and sat upright, ready to listen, for the next one who appeared on the platform was Dr. Deems. He, too, commenced as if the spell of the parting was upon him. He was too tired, he said, to make a short speech. Someone asked Walter Scott why he didn't put a certain book of his into one volume instead of five. And he said he hadn't time. It took five weeks to prepare a speech three minutes long. And then he warmed and grew with his subject until the beautiful thoughts fell around them like pearls. Not only beautiful, but searching. No man, said he, dares to make a careless speech at Shatakwa. There are too many to treasure it up, to plant it again. Of course he knew nothing about those girls and how much seed they were gathering which they meant to plant. But they gathered it all the same. He dropped his seeds with a lavish hand. This was one that took root in Marion's brain and heart. There are so many side influences that are unconscious that the only safe way for one to do is to let no part of himself ravel but to keep himself round and through and healthy to the core. After that, Marion's pencil, on which I have to depend for my notes, gave up in despair. I couldn't keep track of that man, she said when I complained. There was no more use to try than there would be to count these apple blossoms for it was this spring and we were standing in an apple orchard and a perfect shower of the white, sweet-smelling things came fluttering round our heads. But after he calmed down a little as she called it, she tried to write again and I copy this. Brethren, this meeting will convert some of the most thoughtful people of this generation, men who come here not knowing by personal experience the power of this thing, men who walk thoughtfully up and down these aisles looking on will say, there are scholars here, there are men of genius, of great brain power, there are men and women here of every variety of temperament and attainment held together for 14 days by one common bond and the perseverance, the solemnity, the hilarity, the freedom, the naturalness, the earnestness of this meeting will so impress them that they will know that there is a miracle holding us, a supernatural strength. May I give you tonight one word more of gospel invitation? Come, go with us. You who do not understand this matter for yourselves, go with us and we will do you good. Will you go to your rooms tonight and make the resolve that shall write your names in God's book of life? The recording angel has a trembling hand this minute waiting for your answer. Weary one, so young and yet so tired. Come, come, come now. Marion with cheeks burning and eyes very bright and earnest looked around her. Yuri sat next to her. She seemed unmoved. There was no sign of tears to her bright eyes, but she was looking steadily at the speaker. Nevermind, Marion said within herself and there came to her an eager desire to begin her practice, to do something. What if it were utter failure? Would the fault be hers? Following the sudden leading that she had learned no better than to call impulse, she said in a quick low whisper, Yuri, won't you? And she held her breath for the answer and could distinctly feel the beating of her own heart. Yuri turned great gray astonished eyes on her friend and said in a firm quiet voice, I have, I settled that matter on Saturday, have you? And then those two girls, each with the wonderful surprise ringing music in her heart, were willing to have that meeting over. End of chapter 31, recording by Tricia G. Chapter 32 of Four Girls at Chautauqua. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Four Girls at Chautauqua by Pansy. Chapter 32, The End of the Beginning. It was almost over. Dr. Deems sat down amid the hush of hearts and all the people seemed to feel that no more words were needed. Yet the next moment, they greeted Frank Beard with joy and prepared themselves with great satisfaction to listen to what he had to say. Frank Beard was one of Chautauqua's favorites. People had not the least idea that they could be beguiled into laughter. Hearts were too tender for that. Yet you should have heard the bursts of mirth that rang there for the next five minutes. Frank Beard was so quaint, so original, so innocent in his originality, so pure and high-toned even in his fun, and they liked him so much that every heart there responded to his mirth. The roars of laughter reached as high as the music had done but a little while before. Yet when people's hearts are tender and full, it is strange how near laughter is to tears, just a sentence from the same lips and the hush fell on them again. Frank Beard had brought his heart with him to Chautauqua and he was evidently leaving some of it there. The touching little story of his dream about his mother brought out a flutter of handkerchiefs and made tear-stained faces. And when he, simply as a child, tenderly as a large-sold man, trustfully as only a Christian can, said his farewell, and told of his joyful hope of meeting them all in the eternal morning, absolute stillness settled over them. So many last words, one and another came, just a word, just goodbye, until we meet again, maybe here, next year, maybe there, where goodbyes are never heard. Finally came Dr. Vincent, his strong-decided voice breaking the spell and helping them to realize that they were men and women with work to do. Now, my friends, he said, we really must go home. It is hard to close, I know that, no one knows it better. We have closed a good many times and it won't stay closed. The last word has been said over and over again. I said it myself some time ago and here I am again. We must just stop, never mind the closing. We will sing a hymn and go away and next year we will begin right here where we left it. But he didn't stop and no one wanted him to. His voice grew tender and his words were solemn. The last words that he would ever speak to many a soul within sound of his voice, it could not be otherwise. You can imagine better than what I could tell you what Dr. Vincent's message would be at such a time as that. Breaking into it came the shrill sound of the whistle. The Colonel Phillips, the last boat for the night, was giving out its warning. The Chautauqua bells began their parting peal. Not even for his own convenience would that marvel of punctuality have the bells tarry a moment behind the hour appointed. Our girls looked at each other and made signs and nodded and began to slip quietly out. They had arranged to spend the night at the Mayville house and take an early train. Many others were softly and reluctantly moving away. They were very quiet during that last walk down to the wharf. Glorious moonlight was abroad and the water shone like a sheet of silver. As they walked, the evening wind brought to them the notes of the last song which the throng at the stand were singing. A clear ringing yet tender farewell. It floated sweetly down to them growing fainter and fainter as the distance lengthened until as they stopped on board the boat they lost its sound. There were many people going the same way but there was little talking. There are times when people though they may be very far from unhappiness have no desire to talk. Once on deck, Marian turned and clasped both of Yuri's hands. I have had such a blessed surprise tonight she said with glowing face. I did not think of such a thing. Oh, Yuri, why didn't you tell me? You cannot begin to be as surprised as I am, Yuri said. I thought you were miles away from such a thing. Why didn't you tell me? Ruth and Flossie were leaning over watching the play of the water against the boat's side. What about those two, Yuri said, nodding her head toward them? Marian sighed. Ruth is very far from understanding anything about it, she said. At least the last time I talked with her she knew as little about the Christian life as the various heathen so far at least as personal duty was concerned. When was that? Why a week ago, more than a week? How long is it since you settled this question for yourself? Since yesterday, Marian said, blushing and laughing, Yuri, you would do for a cross-questioner. And I have been on this side since Saturday, Yuri answered significantly. A great many things can happen in a week. At this point, Ruth turned and came towards them. She looked quiet and grave. It is a year, isn't it, since we stood here together for the first time, she said. At least I seem to have had a year of life and experience. Do you know, girls, I have something to tell you. I thought to wait until we reached home but I have decided tonight that I will not. I'm sorry that I have not told you before. Marian, don't you know how like a simple tonight talked a week ago last Saturday night? I want to tell you that I was a fool and was talking about that of which I knew nothing at all. I want to assure you that there is a safe place that I know it now by actual experience. I have gone to the mountain and it is sure and safe. And, oh, girls, I want you both to come so much. I know the mountain, Marian said, reaching out and clasping Ruth's hand. The name of it is Calvary. It is safe and it is sufficient for us all. Ruthie, we three are together in this thing. What those girls said to each other then and there is sacred to them. But if I could, I would tell you something of the joy they felt. Flossie still leaned over the railing, a small quiet speck in the moonlight. Marian kept turning her head in her direction. Our poor little Flossie could not understand much about this experience, I suppose, she said at last. She is such a child and yet I don't know. Sometimes I have fancied that she thinks more than we give her credit for, that at least she has lately. Let us tell her anyway, Yuri said. We can't know what good it may do. If we had not been so dreadfully afraid of each other during the last few days, we might have helped each other a good deal. For my part, I have learned a lesson on which I mean to practice. Ruth looked up quickly, a rare smile in her eyes. She opened her lips to speak to them, then seemed to change her mind and raised her voice. Flossie, and Flossie came at her call. Come here, Ruth said, withdrawing her hand from Marian's and winding her arm around the small figure beside her. Flossie, the girls have had our very experience all by themselves and they want to know how long it is since you began to think about this matter for yourself. Flossie turned her soft blue eyes on Marian. The very night we came, Marian, and you made me come to the meeting in the rain, you remember? I heard that which I knew would never let me rest again until I understood it and had it for my own. But I was very ignorant and foolish and I blundered along in the dark for three mortal days. After that, Jesus found me and I have known since what it is to live in the light. A Christian experience of ten whole days, Yuri said. Of course, she was the first one to rise from her surprise and get possession of her tongue. Flossie, you have had a chance to get a good way ahead instead of being behind as we thought. You will have to show us the way. Isn't this just wonderful? Broke forth Marian suddenly, an overwhelming sense coming over her of the new relations that they for would henceforth bear to each other. Why, girls, what would they say up there at the stand if they could know what has come to each of us? I almost feel like going back and telling them all. Just think what a delight it would be to Dr. Vincent and Dr. Deems and oh, to all of them. Isn't it queer to think how well we know them all and they are not aware of our existence? I don't believe people will have to wait to be introduced to each other when they get to heaven, Yuri said. That is one of the first things I'm going to do when I get there, hunt up some of these Chautaqua people and cultivate their acquaintance. This sentence gave Flossie a new thought. We are really all going to heaven. She said it precisely as you might speak of a trip to Europe on which your heart had been long set. We are just as sure of it as though we were there this minute. Girls, don't you know how nice we thought it would be to be together at Chautaqua for two whole weeks? Now think of being together there for a million years. But the thought which filled Flossie's heart with a sweet song of melody and wreathed her face in glad smiles was such an overwhelming one to Marian, so immense with power and possibility that it seemed to her to take her very breath. She turned abruptly from the rest and walked to the vessel's side to still the throbbing of her heart. Meantime, the boat had been filling with passengers and now she was getting underway. Still the hush continued. People stood closely around the railing on the Chautaqua side and looked lovingly back at the fair point of land that lay before them in glowing moonlight. Presently a leading voice began to sing. There's a land that is fairer than day and by faith we can see it afar for the father waits over the way to prepare us a dwelling place there. We shall meet in the sweet by and by on that beautiful shore in the sweet by and by we shall meet on that beautiful shore. Before the chorus was reached every voice that could sing it all must have taken up the strain. Marian for the first time in years gave a hint of the full compass of her powers making Ruth turn suddenly towards her with a brightening face for she saw how the singing and the playing could fit into each other and do good service. On and on stole the vessel through the silver water. The courteous captain came around quietly for his tickets and to one and another with whose faces he had grown familiar he said, we shall miss you. The Colonel Phillips has been proud of carrying you all safely back and forth. One said to him in return, I hope captain we shall all land at last safe in the harbor. And the captain bowed his answer in silence. It would have been hard to speak words just then. But ever and on that leading voice took up words of song. Still the song that best seemed to suit all hearts was that tender by and by. And as the lights along the Chautauqua shore grew dim it rose again in swelling volume. We shall meet, we shall sing, we shall reign in the land where the saved never die. We shall rest free from sorrow and pain safe at home in the sweet by and by. Then the refrain repeated and re-repeated until as the last lingering note of it died away the boat touched at the wharf and looking back they saw that the Chautauqua lights were out and silence and darkness had fair point. Goodbye, Marian said, and she bowed towards the distant shore. She was smiling but her lips were quivering. We shall meet in the sweet by and by. Flossy quoted but her voice trembled. There is a chance to do grand work first that the final meeting may be infinitely larger because of us. This the leading voice in the singing said as he held out his hand to say goodbye. And as they took it some of the girls noticed for the first time that it was Mr. Roberts. As for Flossy she had known it all the time. We are going to try to do some of the work, Mr. Roberts. Yuri said, I have found the road to Bethany since I saw you, the real road and we are going to try to keep it well trodden. He was shaking hands with Flossy as Yuri spoke and he still held her hand while he answered. Good news, there is plenty of work to do. It is well that Chautauqua has gathered in new reapers. I am coming to your city next winter. I shall want to help you. Goodbye. End of chapter 32, recording by Tricia G. End of Four Girls at Chautauqua by Pandy.