A maid in a “white cap” comes to the door and informs me that a “roomful of people” are waiting to see me downstairs.  It is the usual routine of my morning’s work, when I receive all who come to me for advice and consolation.  The reporter regards it, however, as an event, and writes about it in this way:—­

“Visitors to the Talmage mansion are ushered through a broad hall into the great preacher’s back parlour.  They begin to arrive frequently before breakfast, and the bell rings till long after the house is closed for the night.  There are men and women of all races, some richly dressed, some fashionably, some very poorly.  Many of them had never spoken a word to Dr. Talmage before.  They think that Talmage has only to strike the rock to bring forth a stream of shining coins.  He steps into their midst pleasantly.

“‘Well, young man,’ he says to a youth of seventeen, who stands before him.  He offers the boy his hand and shakes it heartily.

“‘I don’t suppose you know me,’ says the lad, ’but I’m in your Sunday School.  Mother thinks I should go to work and I have come to you for advice.’

“Then follows in whispers a brief conversation about the boy himself, his parents, his education and mode of life.

“‘Now,’ says the preacher, leading him by the hand to the door, ’get a letter from your mother, and also one from your Sunday School teacher, and one from your Day School teacher, and bring them to me.  If they are satisfactory I will give you a letter to a warm friend of mine who is one of the largest dry goods merchants in New York.  If you are able, bright, and honest he will employ you.  If you are faithful you may some day be a member of the firm.  All the world is before you, lad.  Be honest, have courage.  Roll up your sleeves and go to work and you will succeed.  Goodbye!’ and the door closes.

“The next caller is an old woman who wants the popular pastor to get her husband work in the Navy Yard.  No sooner is she disposed of, with a word of comfort, than a spruce-looking young man steps forward.  He is a book agent, and his glib tongue runs so fast that the preacher subscribes for his book without looking at it.  As the agent retires a shy young girl comes forward and asks for the preacher’s autograph.  It is given cheerfully.  Two old ladies of bustling activity have come to ask for advice about opening a soup kitchen for the poor.  A middle-aged man pours out a sad story of woe.  He is a hard-working carpenter.  His only daughter is inclined to be wayward.  Would Dr. Talmage come round and talk to her?

“Finally, all the callers have been heard except one young man who sits in a corner of the room toying with his hat.  He has waited patiently so that he might have the preacher all alone.  He rises as Dr. Talmage walks over to him.

“‘I am in no hurry,’ he says.  ’I’ll wait if you want to speak to—­to—­to that man over there,’ pointing to me.