the Munsters--Irish Roman Catholics. You would have
got on all right last week; we had the York and Lancasters."

"Do you think they will come to the meetings?"

"I don't know," he replied; "they come for everything else! They come for
their smokes, candles, soap, buttons--bachelor's buttons--postcards, and
everything else they want. But whether they will come for the religious
part, I don't know."

"Well," I said, "we can but try."

It was about midday when we were talking, and the meeting was to be at
6.30.

"Have you got a boy who could write a bill for me?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, "I've got a boy who could do that all right."

"Print it on green paper," said I.

Why not? They were the Munsters. Why shouldn't we use our heads? People
think mighty hard in business, why shouldn't we think in the religious
world?

"Just say this and nothing more," I said.

"'_Gipsy Smith will give a talk in the Hut to-night at_ 6.30.
_Subject--Gipsy Life_.'"

I knew that would fetch them.

At half-past six the hut was crowded with eight hundred Munsters. If you
are an old angler, indeed if you know anything at all about angling, you
know that you have got to consider two or three things if you are to stand
any chance of a catch. You have got to study your tackle, you have got to
study your bait, you have got to study the habits of your fish. When the
time came to begin that meeting, one of the workers said,

"Shall I bring the box of hymn-books out?"

"No, no," I replied; "that's the wrong bait."

Those Munster boys knew nothing about hymn-books. We preachers have got to
come off our pedestals and not give our hearers what we want, but the
thing that will catch them. If a pretty, catchy Sankey hymn will attract a
crowd, why shouldn't we use it instead of an anthem? If a brass band will
catch them, why shouldn't we play it instead of an organ?

"Keep back those hymn-books," I said. "They know nothing about
hymn-books." I had a pretty good idea of what would have happened if those
hymn-books had been produced at the start.

I got on that platform, and I looked at those eight hundred Munsters and
said, "Boys, are we down-hearted?"

"_No_," they shouted.

You can imagine what eight hundred Munsters shouting "No" sounds like.
They were all attention instantly. I wonder what would happen if the Vicar
went into church next Sunday morning and asked the question, "Are we
down-hearted?" I knew it would cause a sensation,