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VOLUME EIGHT
NUMBER THIRTY-SIX
BROUGHTON “PESTERED” BY LONDON FOG
The Intrepid American Preacher Who “Kicked Up Dust" For Evil Doers in This Country and Brushed Away the Fogs
They Made For Him, Confessed Himself Almost “Knocked Out" by the Fogs of London Town,
ROUGHTON has been conquered at
last! The London fog has done it
—and the “lonesome friends whom
he left on this side are not going
to shed, any “weeps” over his dis
comfiture. When Len G. Brough
ton was in Atlanta, his enemies—
that is, the enemies of the manifold
good he was doing, and especially
r
the way in which he did it —were always com
plaining that “Broughton kicks up too much
dust.”
He did— for them! And when they tried to
cover him in a cloud of dust and an ocean of
fog he always rose like an eagle and soared
above the ocean, and perched in victory in the
pure empyrean far above the cloud!
Indeed, we have heard it freely said, not only
in Georgia, but beyond her borders, that “If
Broughton had stayed in Atlanta the ‘wide
open’ forces would never have triumphed in
the last municipal campaign.”
But the London fog has “got him!” Ha,
h a!
Dr. Broughton’s personal letter to the Editor
of The Golden Age is so Broughtonian and de
lightful that we are going to share it with the
thousands who feast and feed upon his ser
mons from London —found exclusively in The
Golden Age every week:
CHRIST CHURCH
(Perpetuation of Surrey Chapel)
Pastors: Telephone:
Dr. LEN G. BROUGHTON HOP 52
REV. ALBERT SWIFT
CHRIST CHURCH,
WESTMINSTER BRIDGE ROAD,
LONDON, S. E.
October 16th, 1912.
Mr. Will D. Upshaw,
Editor of The Golden Age,
Atlanta, Ga., U. S. A.
Aly Dear Will:
I feel just in the frame to write ,a letter to
all the homefolks today. To begin with, we
are in the midst of a real, sure enough, old
fashioned London fog. You do not know
what that means, and I wish I did not. As I
look out from my window, in my study at
home, at the present moment, there is very
little that I can see, except fog, fog, fog every
where. We have been having them, more or
less, for several days, and now the prospect is
that it will be much heavier tonight than ever
before. lam expecting that traffic through
A GOOD MAN’S GREAT MISTAKE--Page Four
ATLANTA, GA., OCTOBER 31, 1912
the city will be seriously hampered by night,
if not stopped entirely. It is something fierce
to one not accustomed to it; it just makes one
solemn enough to write home.
But there is something really inspiring,
though it may be hard to believe it, about
one of these fogs—the peculiar noise that you
hear! It is of a rumbling, muttering character,
like the distant roar of artillery. That, if
nothing else, is interesting.
But I am not going to write about fogs.
Another thing that makes me feel like writ
ing home is the fact that yesterday, Leonard,
who is all that we have in the way of blood
ties in this part of the moral vineyard, left for
Oxford University, where he sets in for the
DR. LEN G. BROUGHTON.
--4
completion of his education, and equipping
himself for his career as a physician. His
mother, and Miss Long, of Alabama, who is a
part of our household, accompanied him. They
will remain in Oxford near by him until he
finds his feet, which will take only a few days.
So I am here, all by my lonesome. Leonard
enjoys a very unique experience, in that he en
ters the University with the Prince of Wales.
The young prince, who is heralded as the fu
ture King of England, is said to be a fine young
fellow, and is going up to Oxford for special
izing in literature and history.
“Len, Jr.,” in an Oxford Gown.
It is hard to realize that our boy is now
wearing his Oxford gown and cap. It seems
only yesterday that he was a little tot in kilt
skirts, with long beautiful golden curls, dang
ling down his back, holding my hand as we
stepped off the train at the old ear shed in At
lanta, to begin our life in that city. How
rapidly time has gone, and how busy the days
have been; many of them days of greatest de
light. As 1 reflect upon them they grow in
delightfulness. Never again do 1 expect to
have any experiences more pleasant than many
of those days that have now gone to make up
the record of the past.
But not all of them have been of that char
acter. There have been days of sorrow and
trial, days of great struggle and anxiety. Still,
as I think over them all, good and bad, the
good outweighs the bad. But I must not write
on this line, however; certainly, not until this
fog lifts! I cannot keep my mind off of this
fog, it looks like I will have to talk about it in
spite of myself. It is getting thicker now.
Broughton Rejoices Over Seeing American
Missionaries.
What I want to tell you about in particular is
a most unique meeting which was held at
Christ Church last Monday night. Sunday
was the opening of our fall work at the Church.
For two months I had been away, and so had
everyone else excepting the workmen. They
had been there; a regular army of them, re
modelling the Church proper, and almost
building anew the school premises and insti
tute adjoining it. The Church was ready
last Sunday, though the other premises will
not be ready until about the Ist of December.
A prettier Church auditorium this world does
not contain, than this is now. But it is not
that lam interested in most. The fact is, lam
earing less about such things as I grow older.
What I am interested in is the work, the living
Church. With the opening of our fall work,
we began on Monday night a meeting which
will be held every Monday night, to be known
as a “Missionary Rendezvous,” a purely Mis
sionary Meeting for all kinds of mission
work —a meeting for prayer, praise and mis
sionary testimony.
Dr. Campbell Morgan and his Church have
joined in with us in holding the meeting. He
will share with me in presiding over it. Let
ters have been written to every missionary
board and society in the world that we can
learn about, and missionaries are invited, when
in London, to attend it. Last Monday night,
when I invited all missionaries on the pkit
(Continued on Page 5.)
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