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Newspaper Page Text
A DAY WITH W.J. BRYAN OUT ON THE PRAIRIES.
By Oliver P. Newman.
Sac City, "la., July 20. With a
Snort and jerk a dinky, two-car
passenger train jolted into Sac
City at 1:10 o'clock
on this baking hot,
The dingy station,
the dusty road lead
ing away from it
into "town," the
broad Iowa prairies
steaming in the
July sun all was
as it should be in a
middle west town
of 3,000 people, all
except the usual
Instead of being deserted, the
station, the road, tracks and near
by fields were filled with brawny,
red-faced farmer folk, eyes shin
ing and lips smiling. Before the
train came to a stop the crowd
surged towards it The conduc
tor dropped off the front step of
the smoker, waved his arms over
the crowd and yelled:
"He's here in the rear car."
The town band struck "Dixie,"
the crowd held its breath for an
instant, eyes glued to the front
platform of the rear car. Sud
denly the face of William Jen
nings Bryan appeared, and a yell
split the hot air like a clap of
"There's he old fellow!"
"How are you, Bill?"
"What's the matter with
"Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!"
"We want you in 1916!"
Bryan literally had to force his
way to a waiting automobile.
The official reception committee
headed bya former judge, a
bank president who had been a
stanch Republican since he was
old enough to vote was swept
aside by the farmers, who took
possession of the1 Commoner,
shook hands with him, slapped
him on the back, held onto his
arm, carried his grip and heaped
compliments upon him.
The crowd beamed at -Bryanj
and in every utterance was a note
of deep affection. Bryan shook
hands with both hands as rapidly
as he could, smiled with genuine
appreciation, and looked into the
honest, beaming faces with eyes
suspiciously rrioist. He replied to
all questions thaf he could, fre
"Thank you, old fellow. It's
good to hear that. Thank you,
but I'm afraid you exaggerate
what I did." .
Behind Mr. Bryan's automobile
came a string of other cars
those Iowa farmers all seem to
have autos followed by horses
and carriages, and the rest of the
crowd on foot. They followed
Bryan to the little country town
hotel, cheering and calling out to
him all the way. At the hotel he
again had to struggle through a
hand-shaking crowd on the side
walk and lobby.
People came to his room to
shake hands with him while he
was shaving; they stormed him