wander over the benches until they rested upon the face of the lad on
the side bench near him.

"Aha, boy," he cried. "You can sing those words. Try that last verse."

The boy stared, fascinated, at him.

"Sing the last verse, boy," commanded the evangelist, "sing."

As if impelled by another will than his own, the boy slowly, with his
eyes still fastened on the man's face, threw back his head and began to
sing. His voice rose, full, strong, in a quaint imitation in method of
articulation and in voice production of the evangelist himself. At the
third line of the verse the evangelist joined in great massive tones,
beating time vigorously in a rallentando.


"Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all."


The effect was a great emotional climax, the spiritual atmosphere was
charged with fervour. The people sat rigid, fixed in their places,
incapable of motion, until released by the invitation of the leader,
"Let us pray." The boy seemed to wake as from a sleep, glanced at his
mother, then at the faces of the people in the room, sat down, and
quickly covered his face with his hands and so remained during the
prayer.

The dramatic effect of the singing was gradually dispelled in the prayer