Miss Mary S. Parker, the
president, is struggling with the customary opening exercises. She has
called the meeting to order, read to the ladies some passages from the
Bible, and has lifted up her voice in prayer to the All Wise and
Merciful One "for direction and succor, and the forgiveness of enemies
and revilers." It is a wonderful scene, a marvelous example of Christian
heroism, for in the midst of the hisses and threats and curses of the
rioters, the prayer of the brave woman rose clear and untremulous. But
now the rioters have thrown themselves against the partition between the
landing-place and the hall. They are trying to break it down; now, they
have partially succeeded. In another moment they have thrown themselves
against the door of the office where Garrison is locked. The lower panel
is dashed in. Through the opening they have caught sight of their
object, Garrison, serenely writing at his desk. "There he is! That's
Garrison! Out with the scoundrel!" and other such words of recognition
and execration, burst from one and another of the mob. The shattering of
the partition, the noise of splitting and ripping boards, the sharp
crash caused by the shivering of the office door, the loud and angry
outcries of the rioters warn the serene occupant of the office that his
position has become one of extreme peril. But he does not become
excited. His composure does not forsake him.
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