There occasionally occurs an accident 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."
[Illustration: "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 of 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 had not gone to heaven and opened a
brewery.
Of course we who are intelligent, and 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.