The same performance was gone through after service except that the horses were allowed to be hitched back on the carriage. The mob followed for at least half a mile, shouting praises for “Talmodge” as we drove away. Dr. Baxter left us at the hotel and for the first time our party was left alone free from visitors. The Doctor was very tired. At dinner both he and Mrs. Talmage could talk of nothing but this “overwhelmingly cordial greeting to an American minister.” “Major, did you ever hear of such greeting to a minister?” I was asked, and I certainly never had. “This is going to be awful. How can I ever live through a succession of ovations like that?” he said to all of us. “DeWitt, you never can endure it,” said Mrs. Talmage; “I am sure you cannot.” This was the burden of the conversation at dinner. When I retired to the reading room the Doctor soon followed me, to remark: “Major Pond, was ever such an ovation given to an American minister in London before?” “Never,” said I instantly and emphatically. “Major, what would the American papers say of this if they knew the facts? Hadn’t some account of this tremendous reception better be cabled to the Associated Press?” The next morning the following despatch appeared in the New York _Herald_: * * * * * “LONDON, June 15, 1879. “_Herald_, New York: “Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage preached to-day at the Islington Presbyterian Church, Colebrooke Road, to an enormous congregation. Much curiosity was evinced by the people to see the famous American preacher; a dense crowd blockaded the streets leading to the church. The enthusiasm was immense. Half a mile before the Presbyterian church was reached the carriage of the reverend gentleman was lifted from the ground and carried bodily to the church. It was one of the most tremendous ovations ever paid to an American minister in London.” * * * * * That Sunday evening Dr. Talmage and I walked out and had our first private business talk. We crossed the street to Westminster Abbey and walked all around it, discussing the wonders of the historic Abbey for some time, when the Doctor suddenly changed the subject. “Wasn’t that the most tremendous, overwhelming reception that a minister ever had?” he said to me. “This excitement is going to use me all up. I never can stand it. What have you done?” I replied that I had fixed my first ten nights with the Leeds Y. M. C. A., all in the large cities. “I cannot stand it. I am sure it will break me down. How much am I to get out of it?” I replied, “You get your $100 a night and your expenses; isn’t that our contract?” “Oh, I can’t do that. It would be the ruin of my health; and you would be getting rich and I have nothing.” “Wait, my dear Dr. Talmage, and see how it starts. I came here under terms of a contract with you, and now you don’t seem to consider it binding.”