"God's Trombone"

His voice strained raw, his fists milling, a Negro evangelist towered above his wailing audience in the little Mount Olive (African Methodist Episcopal) Zion Church at Waterbury, Conn., last week. He rose to his toes and menaced the moaning Negroes with all the horrors of hell. Hysterical cries burst from the listeners: "That's right, preacher! Go on and preach, man! Amen, amen!"

In front of the platform was a casket piled with flowers.

According to previous newspaper announcements, this was to be the funeral of a certain neighbor. The evangelist chanted no eulogy over the coffin. The dead man had committed every sin, he screamed. He was wicked, he had not been ready when the trump of Gabriel called him to judgment, and therefore he would go to eternal torment.

_ At last, eager to see what this horrible sinner could look like, staggering, moaning, the congregation filed forward. Each man and woman peered. The casket was empty. A mirror in the bottom reflected the face of the person who stared.

Evangelist W. F. Fisher, who staged the mock funeral, has made a specialty of this sort of thing. Once he saved 50 in one night. At Waterbury only six were saved.