Yes, I love Jesus,
I know, I know I do.”
“Now, my friends,” said Mr. Notext, “I want you all to stand up for Jesus and sing poor little Jimmy’s song.” And Mr. Notext led off. The choir followed his example; but the audience remained seated.
“I want to know,” said Mr. Notext rather testily, “how many Christians there are in this assembly. I want every one of them to stand up!”
Several persons now stood up, and gradually the action began to spread, like yawning in a lecture-room. There were still many, however, who had not hearkened to Mr. Notext’s summons to stand up. He called attention to them, and bade some of the brethren go to them and talk them into an erect position. Some of the recalcitrants, evidently to avoid importunity, stood up. The rest also stood up, and hurriedly left the tent, followed by an angry scowl from Mr. Notext. After a little hesitation, he said: “We will now once more sing little Jimmy’s hymn.” And when the hymn was sung, the meeting dispersed.
Next morning the friendly newspapers chronicled the wonderful success of Mr. Notext’s efforts. The number of converts was miraculously large. Two thousand persons had stood up for Jesus. The meetings were continued during the week. The modus operandi was about the same. Mr. Notext repeated himself so often that interest began to languish and his coups de théâtre to grow flat and stale. When he was at a loss for words to continue one of his disjointed discourses, he took refuge in music and hymns.
“Brethren, let us sing:
“Come to Jesus!
Come to Jesus!
Come to Jesus just now,” etc.