It was about midday when we were talking, and the meeting was to be at 6.30.
“Have you got a boy who could write a bill for me?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, “I’ve got a boy who could do that all right.”
“Print it on green paper,” said I.
Why not? They were the Munsters. Why shouldn’t we use our heads? People think mighty hard in business, why shouldn’t we think in the religious world?
“Just say this and nothing more,” I said.
“‘Gipsy Smith will give a talk in the Hut to-night at 6.30. Subject—Gipsy Life.’”
I knew that would fetch them.
At half-past six the hut was crowded with eight hundred Munsters. If you are an old angler, indeed if you know anything at all about angling, you know that you have got to consider two or three things if you are to stand any chance of a catch. You have got to study your tackle, you have got to study your bait, you have got to study the habits of your fish. When the time came to begin that meeting, one of the workers said,
“Shall I bring the box of hymn-books out?”