There occasionally occurs an incident in this world that will make a
person laugh though the laughing may border on the sacrilegious. For
instance, there is not a Christian but will smile at the ignorance of
the Advent preacher up in Jackson county who, when he saw the balloon of
King, the balloonist, going through the air, thought it was the second
coming of Christ, and got down on his knees and shouted to King, who
was throwing out a sand bag, while his companion was opening a bottle of
export beer, “O, Jesus, do not pass me by.”
And yet it is wrong to laugh at the poor man, who took an advertising
agent for a Chicago clothing store for the Savior, who he supposed was
making his second farewell tour. The minister had been preaching the
second coming of Christ until he looked for Him every minute. He would
have been as apt to think, living as he did in the back woods, that a
fellow riding a bicycle, with his hair and legs parted in the middle,
along the country road, was the object of his search.
We should pity the poor man for his ignorance, we who believe that when
Christ _does_ come He will come in the old fashioned way, and not in a
palace car, or straddle of the basket of a balloon. But we can't help
wondering what the Adventist must have thought, when he appealed to his
Savior, as he supposed, and the balloonist shied a sand bag at him and
the other fellow in the basket threw out a beer bottle and asked, “Where
in ------ are we?”
The Adventist must have thought that the Savior of mankind was traveling
in mighty queer company, or that He had taken the other fellow along as
a frightful example. And what could the Adventist have thought when he
saw a message thrown out of the balloon, and went with trembling limbs
and beating heart to pick it up, believing that it was a command from
on high to sinners, and found that it was nothing but a hand bill for a
Chicago hand-me-down clothing store.
He must have come to the conclusion that the Son o Man had got pretty
low down to take a job of bill posting for a reversible ulster and
paper collar bazar. It must have been food for reflection for the Advent
preacher, as he picked up the empty beer bottle, shied at him from the
chariot that he supposed carried to earth the redeemer of man. He must
have wondered if some-Milwaukee brewer ad not gone to heaven and opened
a brewery.
Of course we who are intelligent, and who would know a balloon if we saw
it, would not have had any such thoughts, but we must remember that
this poor Advent preacher thought that the day had come that had been
promised so long, and that Christ was going to make a landing in a
strong Republican county. We may laugh at the Adventist's disappointment
that the balloon did not tie up to a stump and take him on board, but it
was a serious matter to him.
He had been waiting for the wagon, full of hope, and when it came, and
he saw the helmet on King's head and thought it was a crown of glory,
his heart beat with joy, and he plead in piteous accents not to be
passed by, and the confounded gas bag went on and landed in a cranberry
marsh, and the poor, foolish, weak, short-sighted man had to get in his
work mighty lively to dodge the sand bags, beer bottles, and rolls of
clothing store posters.
The Adventist would have been justified in renouncing his religion and
joining the Democratic party. It is sad, indeed.