Tag: Billy Sunday Tabernacle

Competing for the Crowd: What Else Philadelphia Could Do in 1915

When Billy Sunday arrived in Philadelphia in early 1915, he stepped into a city alive with options.

This wasn’t a spiritually quiet moment in American life—it was a crowded marketplace of attention. Every night, Philadelphians could choose where to go, what to watch, and how to spend their time. Entertainment was not scarce; it was everywhere. And much of it was designed to delight, distract, and hold an audience far more comfortably than a hard-hitting revival sermon.

That’s what makes Sunday’s campaign so compelling.

He didn’t draw crowds because there was nothing else to do.
He drew crowds in spite of everything else there was to do.

Let’s step into that world.

The Bright Lights of the Theatre

Philadelphia had a thriving theatre scene—serious plays, comedies, and traveling productions that brought a touch of Broadway to the city. These venues were polished and respectable, often appealing to middle- and upper-class audiences.

An evening at the theatre meant dressing well, sitting in a structured setting, and watching trained actors perform carefully scripted stories. It was entertainment with dignity—refined, cultural, and often expensive.

The theatre still carried prestige in 1915, but it was no longer the only game in town.

Vaudeville: Fast, Funny, and Everywhere

If theatre was refined, vaudeville was electric.

Vaudeville shows were built on variety—comedians, singers, dancers, acrobats, magicians—all packed into a single program. The pace was quick, the tone was lively, and the appeal was broad.

For many working-class and middle-class Philadelphians, vaudeville was the go-to night out. It was affordable, constantly changing, and full of energy. No two shows were exactly alike, and that unpredictability kept audiences coming back.

In 1915, vaudeville was at or near its peak. It wasn’t just popular—it was a cultural force.

The Rise of the Photoplay

And then there were the movies—still new, still evolving, but already reshaping the landscape.

They were called photoplays, and by 1915 they were drawing massive crowds. For just a few cents, people could step into a darkened theater and be transported into another world through silent film.

That same year saw the release of The Birth of a Nation, a film that demonstrated just how powerful and immersive cinema could be.

Movies had three advantages that made them unstoppable:

  • They were cheap
  • They were accessible
  • They were constantly changing

In many ways, they represented the future of entertainment—and people knew it.

Music, Dance, and the Pull of the Nightlife

For younger audiences especially, entertainment wasn’t just about watching—it was about participating.

Dance halls and social clubs offered ragtime music, lively crowds, and a chance to be part of the action. These venues were social, energetic, and often stretched late into the night.

They were also controversial.

Revivalists like Billy Sunday frequently warned against the moral dangers of dance halls, seeing them as places where discipline gave way to impulse. But for many in the city, they were simply where life felt most alive.

Traveling Shows and Big-Tent Spectacle

Even in a major city, the draw of spectacle remained strong.

Circuses, traveling shows, and Chautauqua events brought something different—large-scale experiences that combined entertainment, education, and wonder. Whether it was a circus parade or a lecture under a tent, these events added to the sense that something exciting was always happening just around the corner.

They were part of the cultural fabric, especially for families and those looking for something beyond the everyday.

And Then… There Was the Tabernacle

Into that world stepped Billy Sunday.

No velvet curtains.
No orchestra.
No stagecraft.

Just a rough wooden tabernacle, a sawdust-covered floor, and a preacher who spoke with urgency and conviction.

And yet—night after night—people came.

Why?

Because Sunday offered something none of the others could.

  • The theatre entertained.
  • Vaudeville amused.
  • Movies captivated.
  • Dance halls energized.

But Sunday confronted.

He spoke about sin, purpose, eternity, and the need for decision. His meetings were not passive experiences. They demanded a response.

The Real Story

The real story of Philadelphia in 1915 is not just that Billy Sunday drew crowds.

It’s that he drew them in the middle of one of the most competitive entertainment environments America had ever seen.

Every night, people made a choice.

They could laugh, watch, dance, or be distracted.
Or they could walk into a wooden tabernacle and be challenged.

And tens of thousands chose the latter.

That’s not just revival.

That’s a man—and a message—breaking through the noise of an entire culture.

His power: what is it?

Cited in: The Philadelphia Evening Ledger. January 5, 1915:5. – William Rader

Billy Sunday is not easily defined. Power conceals its secret. Psychologists would call it hypnotism; theologians, the power of the spirit; the ethical teacher, the gift of truth; the dramatist, the art of the player; while others declare:

His strength is as the strength of ten,
Because his heart is pure.

Billy Sunday is a good actor. Each sermon is carefully prepared, and some of it read from manuscript. Certain climaxes are illustrated. At one point he slides to a base; at another, kneels, or leaps upon the pulpit desk, or smashes a chair to pieces. Edward Everett did not more carefully prepare a speech with its proper gestures than does this evangelist build his sermons. The local color with which he decorates his main thought is taken from the city in which he speaks.

His imagination interested me. Speaking on “The Grenadier,” the consideration of his theme invited the use of the imagination, and he gave it full play. The sermon was an application of military attributes to practical life, a rebuke to the “wind-jammer” of the prayer meeting, and an appeal to the man who has taken an oath to be good to go out and honor it. He assailed the “saphead” who criticises the Church, and the description he gave of Daniel in the lion’s den and of the head of John the Baptist on a charger will not be forgotten.

I confess to a liking for his so-called slang. Most of it is plain English with a punch in it. It is the punch which preachers and editors and people who use words generally lack. Words are like shot, made to strike, and especially when used to influence great bodies of people. It is refreshing to hear a man say what he thinks and say it as he pleases—a thing most public men signally fail to do.

What a revival does? – Billy Sunday

Cited in: The Evening Public Ledger. January 5, 1915: 5.

“What is a revival? Now listen to me. A revival does two things. First, it returns the church from her backsliding; and, second, it causes the conversion of men and women; and it always includes the conviction of sin on the part of the church. What a spell the devil seems to cast over the church today!

“I suppose the people here are pretty fair representatives of the church of God, and if everybody did what you do there would never be a revival. Suppose I did no more than you do, then no people would ever be converted through my efforts; I would fold my arms and rust out. A revival helps to bring the unsaved to Jesus Christ.

“God Almighty never intended that the devil should triumph over the church. He never intended that the saloons should walk roughshod over Christianity. And if you think that anybody is going to frighten me, you don’t know me yet.

“I will cram it down their throats in this town for the miserable lies they hurl against me up and down the streets of this city. Don’t you forget it. You bet your life. You bet, and they will get it.

“When is a revival needed? When the individuals are careless and unconcerned. If the church was down on her face in prayer they would be more concerned with the fellow outside. The church has degenerated into a third-rate amusement joint with religion left out.

“When is a revival needed? When carelessness and unconcern keep the people asleep. It is must the duty of the church to awaken and work and labor for the men and women of this city as it is the duty of the fire department to arouse when the call sounds. What would you think of the fire department of Philadelphia if it slept while the town burned? You would condemn it and I will condemn you if you sleep and let men and women go to hell. It is just as much your business to be awake. The church of God is asleep today; it is turned into a dormitory, and has taken the devil’s opiates.”

HIT TYPEWRITER KEYS FOR PASTOR; THEN “HIT TRAIL”

Cited from: The Philadelphia Evening Public Ledger. January 2, 1915:3.

Miss Grace Saxe, “Billy” Sunday’s Prayer Meeting Organizer, Tells of Her Conversion.

“Billy” Sunday’s right-hand woman, whose other name is Miss Grace Saxe, is just as much a woman as though she didn’t hold one of the most important positions in the whole Sunday organization, a position which might make even a man forget all else but the responsibilities of his work.

For one of the very first things she did on arriving in Philadelphia several days in advance of the opening of the campaign was to launch forth on an energetic shopping tour.

“I simply had to have some pretty clothes to wear, to conduct my meetings,” she said, smiling nervously, at “Billy” Sunday’s home, 1914 Spring Garden street, happy, but exhausted, at the termination of her first work in Philadelphia.

Miss Saxe is the person whom Mr. Sunday has selected for the very vital work of organizing the neighborhood prayer meetings in the various cities where the revivals are conducted, and it is her particular duty to bring religion into as many of the private homes as she can possibly get into touch with and to make it a permanent factor of those homes.

“Our work would be a very poor thing indeed,” she said earnestly, “if we worked at these people up to a state of high religious fervor only to let them drop back again and cool off soon after the campaign was over.”

TELLS OF HER CONVERSION

“Although the revivals have not yet started, I cannot help feeling that the way Philadelphia has received us has been nothing short of magnificent. Already 5000 homes have been thrown open to these prayer meetings and more than 15,000 volunteers have come forward and signified their intention of fostering these meetings permanently and keeping the spirit of Christ in the home indefinitely.

“One phase of the work that I am particularly interested in is teaching people how to read the Bible. There are many who have a great desire to study the Book of God, but who do not know how to go about it, and organizing teaching, high school girls and women in city houses, into Bible classes is my chief duty.

Miss Saxe’s career has been an interesting one. Born in Iowa, she “entered” St. Louis to accept a position as court stenographer, and it was while she was energetically hitting the keys in the city that something occurred which, to use her own expression, “made her see the light.”

“Up until that time,” she said, a little shamefacedly, “I was rather an unregenerate creature. I used to come to town in Lyons, Dr. A. B. Simpson came to town and I was engaged to go and take down in shorthand a series of his lectures. There were about ten of them, and in addition to having to hear them I also had to go all over them again, transcribing them on the typewriter.

“TURNS DOWN” ROOSEVELT

“They made me think, and soon after I began a very careful study of the Bible. Later on I was engaged to work with the Rev. Dwight L. Moody, of Chicago, and after that I traveled abroad with Torrey and Alexander. By that time the work of making a Christian out of me was completed.

“Later on I happened to be in Egypt taking a little vacation when I received a request to go up the Nile and meet Mr. Roosevelt at Luxor, there to take down some of his lectures, but I found I was spoiled for that sort of thing. I had become so interested in religious work that nothing else seemed to satisfy, and it was soon after this that I accepted Mr. Sunday’s offer to become a member of his organization, and have worked with him ever since.”

Miss Saxe has the calm, placid Madonna-like face of one who is at peace with the world and herself.

“The test of his wonderful work is in the results that he gets. Day after day hundreds of testimonials come in which show the lasting conversions that he is responsible for.

“Only the other day a man sent a letter from Waterloo, Iowa, where a revival was conducted some three years ago, saying that he was thankful for the change that had been brought about in him, that he was willing even to have his name used if other conversions might be effected thereby.

“For 30 years this Johnny Bates had been a confirmed drunkard. His wife got disgusted and divorced him, his children grew away from him and he went down into the very depths. Three years ago he hit the sawdust trail and since then has never touched a drop. He now holds a splendid lucrative position and his wife has remarried him. That is but one of the many cases which testify to the indisputably good work that Mr. Sunday is doing.”

Cited from: The Philadelphia Evening Public Ledger. January 2, 1915:3.

Sermon: When chickens come home to roost

One of Billy’s favorite sermons was When chickens come home to Roost. He would preach it often and usually in the first 1-2 weeks of a revival.

What was the sermon about?

In “Chickens Come Home to Roost,” Billy Sunday argues that sin is never isolated or harmless—it inevitably returns with consequences that grow over time. What begins as a small compromise develops into habit, then character, and ultimately destruction. He emphasizes that sin corrupts the individual internally before it manifests outwardly, dulling the conscience and weakening the will. Sunday also stresses that sin is not merely personal; it affects families, communities, and even nations. He dismantles common excuses—denial, delay, and comparison—and insists that no one escapes moral accountability. The sermon builds toward an urgent appeal: repentance must happen now, before sin’s consequences fully mature and bring irreversible damage.

Representative Quote:
“Your sin may seem quiet tonight, but it will rise up tomorrow and demand its wages.”

On the Sawdust Trail: A Night at Billy Sunday’s Tabernacle, Philadelphia (Week One)

Curated from: The Philadelphia Evening Ledger. January 6, 1915:3.

You don’t just attend a Billy Sunday meeting—you step into it.

By the time I reached the tabernacle, the place was already alive. Not just crowded—alive. Policemen lined the edges, firemen stood ready, and yet there wasn’t even “the merest hint of disorder.” Whatever this thing was, it had structure. It had gravity. And it was pulling people in.

Colorized image of the Billy Sunday tabernacle in Philadelphia, c.1915.

Inside, the air carried that peculiar mixture of sawdust, sweat, and anticipation. Outside, though—that’s where you heard the real story.

A man near me, confident as a prophet, said to no one in particular:

“Billy Sunday has only started… it’s going to get worse and worse. He arouses more enthusiasm each day. If you don’t believe me, ask Scranton.”

That was the mood—this wasn’t the event. This was the beginning of the event.

The Crowd Watching the Crowd

It struck me quickly: people weren’t just watching Billy Sunday.

They were watching each other.

One visitor said it plainly:

“I was naturally interested in ‘Billy’ Sunday, and perhaps even more so in the crowd.”

And what a crowd it was.

A boy—no more than ten—hobbled in on crutches just to hear him. A sailor from the battleship Kansas had been waiting “for months” to catch a meeting. A woman stood nearby, nervous, almost whispering:

“Oh! no. I cannot give my name… my husband would throw a fit if he knew I had been in here.”

And yet—there she was.

That’s how you knew something was happening. Not just attendance—but risked attendance.

What People Were Saying

If you wanted to understand Billy Sunday, you didn’t start with the sermon.

You started with the talk afterward.

“What do you think of ‘Billy’?” someone asked.

The answers came quick, overlapping:

“Great.”
“Some man.”
“An ace.”
“I like him because he goes after the hypocrites.”

Others reached for bigger words:

“Wonderful… splendid… marvelous.”

But not everyone could quite put their finger on it.

One woman, looking slightly dazed, said:

“I have had so many things fired at me in the last hour that I can’t quite set my bearings.”

That may have been the most honest response of all.

More Than a Sermon

There was something else in the air—something heavier than excitement.

A man, speaking to a small group of women, said what many were thinking:

“I would like to see ‘Billy’ Sunday wake this city up and get the rum out of it… Look how many homes he would make happy.”

And then, almost quietly, another moment:

In the northeast corner of the tabernacle, someone reported hearing a man say:

“This is my last drink.”

No sermon transcript can capture that.

That’s the sawdust trail doing its work.

The Unexpected Details

Not everything was solemn.

Someone joked about the sawdust itself:

“They say Mr. Sunday hates noise, and I know I am going to sneeze. I always do when around sawdust.”

Even the ministers weren’t immune to the moment. One well-known clergyman was said to amuse himself before preaching by reading The Fun of Getting Thin—and now, thanks to the crowds, “occupies two seats.”

And everywhere—evidence of men lingering longer than usual:

“There were enough cigar butts left in the gutters… to start a true second-hand cigar store.”

It wasn’t tidy.

It wasn’t polished.

But it was real.

Order in the Midst of It All

For all its energy, the thing held together.

The crowds were vast, but they moved. The police managed them. The firemen stood watch. The machinery of the city seemed, for a moment, to cooperate with something larger than itself.

One observer summed it up best:

“To get and hold a vast throng like this on a weekday for the purpose of hearing the gospel certainly is a tribute to the man himself.”

And It’s Only the Beginning

If you stood there long enough, listening—not to the sermon, but to the people—you began to realize something:

The revival hadn’t peaked.

It hadn’t even arrived yet.

It was building.

You could hear it in the confidence of the man who said, “ask Scranton.”
You could see it in the boy on crutches.
You could feel it in the nervous woman who came anyway.
You could sense it in the man who muttered, “my last drink.”

Billy Sunday may have been the preacher.

But the city—
the crowd—
the conversations spilling out onto the streets—

They were becoming the message.

And Philadelphia, whether it knew it yet or not, was just getting started.

Did converts of Billy Sunday campaigns ‘stick”?

Three years after the Carthage meetings, a Mattoon, Illinois newspaper said that 80% of Carthage converts were still “living the new life. While two years after Keokuk, 75% of the converts “are still leading the new life.”
– JG-TC: Journal Gazette and Times-Courier (Mattoon, Illinois) · Mon, Mar 19, 1906 · Page 1.

Five years after the Belvidere revival of September 1901, a Belvidere newspaper reported that membership of Belvidere Methodist church in 1901 was 500 persons, and five years later it was 850, showing the ‘stickiness’ of Sunday converts over a long period of time.
– Belvidere Daily Republican (Belvidere, Illinois) · Mon, Mar 26, 1906 · Page 2.

January 13 – February 12, 1905. Mason City, Iowa – Billy Sunday revival

January 13 – February 12, 1905. Mason City, Iowa

Billy Sunday conducted a month-long revival campaign in Mason City, Iowa, from January 13 to February 12, 1905, during a period when the city’s population was only about 8,300 and total church membership was roughly 3,000. A temporary tabernacle constructed of rough boards and tar paper—heated by six furnaces to withstand winter conditions—served as the central venue for the meetings.

Attendance was substantial for a community of Mason City’s size. One January meeting drew 2,000 men, while associate evangelist Ira E. Honeywell simultaneously addressed 1,000 women in a separate gathering. During a notable men’s meeting on January 29, Sunday delivered a forceful sermon condemning social vices; more than 50 men responded for prayer and conversion. The revival continued despite severe winter weather, including temperatures reported at twenty below zero.

By the campaign’s conclusion, the meetings had produced approximately 700 conversions, including 200 on the final day. Sunday received a $1,800 love offering, while an additional $2,500 was raised for campaign expenses and $800 for the city’s poor. Contemporary newspapers widely reported the revival and praised Sunday’s energetic preaching style and his unusual ability to sway large crowds.

Billy Sunday on the Chautauqua Circuit: The Brief but Notable Season of 1910

In the summer of 1910, Billy Sunday stood at an interesting crossroads in his rapidly expanding ministry. By this point he was already nationally known as one of America’s most electrifying evangelists. Cities across the country were beginning to build large tabernacles to accommodate the crowds that flocked to hear him preach. Yet during the summer months—when revival campaigns often paused—Sunday occasionally appeared on the Chautauqua circuit, the great American network of traveling lecture assemblies that combined education, entertainment, reform movements, and religion.

Unlike many lecturers who spent the entire season touring the circuit, Sunday’s 1910 Chautauqua schedule was surprisingly limited. He appeared only at a handful of assemblies, and his comments to the press make clear that this was intentional. Sunday had been offered lucrative opportunities to spend the entire summer lecturing. One newspaper reported that he declined an offer of $20,000 to devote the season to Chautauqua work, explaining that the exhausting schedule would leave him unable to conduct revival campaigns in the fall.

“The report that I am to retire is all pure nonsense… I refused $20,000 to give my time to Chautauqua work this summer, as I would be worn out and could not preach before January.”

Sunday’s priority remained evangelistic preaching. Nevertheless, the few Chautauqua appearances he did make during the summer of 1910 provide a fascinating glimpse into his growing national popularity and the remarkable drawing power he already possessed.

Whidbey Island: The Northwestern Chautauqua Assembly

Sunday’s Chautauqua engagements began on July 24, 1910, at the Northwestern Chautauqua Assembly on Whidbey Island, Washington.

At this gathering Sunday delivered a message titled “Forces that Win.” Like many of his sermons, it blended moral exhortation with vivid biblical storytelling. Reports indicate he illustrated his message with the story of David and Goliath, a favorite example of spiritual courage overcoming overwhelming odds.

Even among the prominent lecturers and performers typical of a Chautauqua program, Sunday stood out. His dynamic speaking style—rapid delivery, colorful language, and dramatic physical movement—contrasted sharply with the more measured lecture format audiences often expected.

Hillsboro–Litchfield: A Midwestern Assembly

In early August Sunday appeared at the Hillsboro–Litchfield Chautauqua, running from August 4 through August 11. These regional Chautauqua assemblies usually featured a mixture of lectures, concerts, political discussions, and religious addresses.

Sunday’s presence on such programs reflected the growing recognition that he was not merely a revivalist but also one of the most compelling public speakers in the country.

Maxwelton, Washington: Crowds Even in Small Communities

On August 6, Sunday spoke at the Maxwelton Chautauqua in Washington, addressing a crowd estimated at 4,500 people.

The size of the audience is striking. Maxwelton itself was a small community, yet thousands gathered to hear Sunday speak. Even outside the large urban revival campaigns for which he would soon become famous, his reputation alone was enough to draw impressive crowds.

Patterson Springs: Record-Breaking Interest

Another Chautauqua stop came on August 10 at Patterson Springs. Newspapers noted that Sunday had previously delivered a lecture there that produced $3,600 in ticket receipts, reportedly a record for a single Chautauqua lecture.

This financial success reveals something important about Sunday’s role in the Chautauqua movement. He was not just a preacher filling a religious slot in the program. He was one of the circuit’s major attractions, capable of drawing large audiences and generating significant revenue.

Even so, Sunday resisted becoming primarily a Chautauqua lecturer. His heart remained in revival work.

Lake Whatcom: The “Human Interest” Lecturer

On August 24, Sunday appeared at the Washington Assembly Chautauqua near Lake Whatcom. Promotional material advertised him as delivering the program’s “human interest” lecture, a category that perfectly suited his style.

Sunday’s talks often mixed humor, storytelling, social criticism, and passionate moral appeal. He could move easily from a humorous anecdote to a blistering denunciation of vice, particularly the liquor trade. This blend of entertainment and moral seriousness made him an ideal Chautauqua speaker.

Richmond, Indiana: A Crowd of Eight Thousand

Sunday’s most dramatic Chautauqua appearance of 1910 came on August 28 at the Richmond, Indiana Chautauqua.

The crowd numbered roughly 8,000 people, and Sunday delivered one of his most famous temperance sermons, “Booze.”

Contemporary accounts describe a performance that was nothing short of theatrical. Once fully warmed up, Sunday removed his coat and launched into an explosive denunciation of the saloon. At one point he grabbed a red flag representing the liquor trade, hurled it to the ground, and stamped on it before triumphantly seizing the American flag to symbolize moral victory.

Such dramatic gestures were typical of Sunday’s style. Critics sometimes mocked them as stage tricks, but audiences loved them. They reinforced his reputation as the relentless enemy of alcohol and social vice.

Why the 1910 Season Was Short

One of the most interesting aspects of Sunday’s Chautauqua activity in 1910 is how limited it was.

Rumors circulated in the press that he might be retiring from public speaking altogether. In reality, the opposite was true. Sunday simply refused to devote the entire summer to the lecture circuit.

He explained that constant Chautauqua travel would leave him exhausted and unable to conduct the revival campaigns that he believed were his true calling. Instead, he used the summer months partly for rest and partly for select speaking engagements before returning to the intense schedule of fall revivals.

This decision proved wise. Later in 1910 Sunday conducted major campaigns in New Castle, Pennsylvania, and Waterloo, Iowa, drawing enormous crowds and recording thousands of conversions.

A Glimpse of Sunday’s Expanding Influence

Though brief, Billy Sunday’s 1910 Chautauqua season reveals several important aspects of his rising influence.

First, it demonstrates the extraordinary demand for him as a public speaker. Even isolated appearances drew crowds in the thousands.

Second, it shows that he was already a major figure in the reform movements of the era—especially the temperance crusade.

Finally, it highlights Sunday’s own priorities. While many speakers made their careers on the Chautauqua circuit, Sunday viewed it as secondary. His passion remained revival preaching and evangelism.

In hindsight, the summer of 1910 marks a moment when Billy Sunday could have easily become one of the most lucrative lecturers in America. Instead, he chose the harder path—returning to the sawdust floors of revival tabernacles and the exhausting pace of evangelistic campaigns.

And in doing so, he continued building the ministry that would soon make him the most famous evangelist in America.

What was the religious temperature in the Midwest c.1910?

The following article excerpt was carried in several newspapers in mid August 1910.

MIDDLE WEST HAS A RELIGIOUS FERMENT

In Chicago Itself Other World Matters Have the Floor.

“The rest of the country can hardly realize the breadth and the depth and the fervor of the spiritual tumult which is stirring the Middle West with Chicago as its center. Chicago newspapers regularly carry columns of sermons in their paid advertising columns. In Chicago street cars are displayed glaring placards advertising the “Book of Mormon,” and 48,000 copies have been sold in the city during the past two or three years. Billboards are covered with big four-sheet posters in colors, calling upon the public to attend great free mass meetings in the Coliseum, with a gospel choir of 2000 voices as the special attraction. Every Sunday morning the Auditorium—the largest theater in the city—is packed with the congregation of Central Church, and every Sunday evening Orchestra Hall is filled with people attending the religious services, which are supported by a voluntary club of Chicago business men. And during the clement season of each recent year scores of Middle West towns, with populations of ten and twenty thousand people, have practically dropped all their ordinary occupations and given themselves over for weeks at a time to a strange, fanatical religious ecstasy, under the acrobatic ministrations of “Billy” Sunday, baseball evangelist. And these are only the more normal the more nearly orthodox manifestations of the spiritual unrest.”—Henry M. Hyde in Collier’s.

The Buffalo News. Tue, Aug 16, 1910 ·Page 5