That sort of thing would corral their sympathies, the showman said.
"There was a big audience that night-mostly middle-aged and old people who belong to the church, and took a strong interest in Bible matters, and the balance were pretty much young bucks and heifers--they always come out strong on panoramas, you know, because it gives them a chance to taste one another's complexions in the dark.
"Well, the showman began to swell himself up for his lecture, and the old mud-Jobber tackled the piano and ran his fingers up and down once or twice to see that she was all right, and the fellows behind the curtain commenced to grind out the panorama.

The showman balanced his weight on his right foot, and propped his hands over his hips, and flung his eyes over his shoulder at the scenery, and said: "'Ladies and gentlemen, the painting now before you illustrates the beautiful and touching parable of the Prodigal Son.

Observe the happy expression just breaking over the features of the poor, suffering youth -- so worn and weary with his long march; note also the ecstasy beaming from the uplifted countenance of the aged father, and the joy that sparkles in the eyes of the excited group of youths and maidens, and seems ready to burst into the welcoming chorus from their lips.

The lesson, my friends, is as solemn and instructive as the story is tender and beautiful.' "The mud-Jobber was all ready, and when the second speech was finished, struck up: "Oh, we'll all get blind drunk When Johnny comes marching home! "Some of the people giggled, and some groaned a little.

The showman couldn't say a word; he looked at the pianist sharp, but he was all lovely and serene--he didn't know there was anything out of gear.
"The panorama moved on, and the showman drummed up his grit and started in fresh.
"'Ladies and gentlemen, the fine picture now unfolding itself to your gaze exhibits one of the most notable events in Bible history--our Saviour and His disciples upon the Sea of Galilee.