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From 1870 to 1882 it was my custom to go to Gilroy Mineral Springs for my vacation. Many and varied were the programmes we gave there each year, and not an evening of our stay lagged for entertainment. In 1879 I happened to be there at the time of my birthday. There were 150 guests and all entered with zest into a plan to honor me. I was not aware that any one knew of my forty-third birthday, so unconsciously I was doing my utmost to serve the many prominent guests and my friends, George Roop and wife, who were the proprietors of the Springs. Among the guests were: Mr. John F. Merrill and wife, the Misses Dolly and Susie Sroufe, Phil McGovern and party, prominent merchants and families from the neighboring towns of Santa Cruz, San Jose, Gilroy and Monterey, Mr. and Mrs. George A. Smiley and others from San Francisco, Isadore Lazinski of business college fame, the Remillards and Folkers and Cottles and others.

After an early dinner the dining hall was cleared for our entertainment. The room was decorated with ferns and wild flowers, and flags and ribbons streamed in graceful folds. The programme consisted of songs, music of piano, guitar, violin, classic and negro melodies, etc. It was after I had given "Sarah Walker's Opinion" that Miss Grace Roop stepped forward and placed a laurel wreath with streaming ribbons floating gracefully from it upon my head, wishing me a happy birthday. To my utter surprise, scarcely had she stepped aside when Mrs. Geo. Smiley of San Francisco came forward and began reading a letter of thanks and congratulations from the guests who had enjoyed the many evenings of entertainment to which I had contributed. She then placed an envelope in my hand containing three $20 bills and one of $5, as a token of regard and appreciation from the guests. After a short speech of thanks and the closing song and chorus of Home, Sweet Home, the eventful day came to its close.

This was one of the many seasons that, away from the cares of life, I gave others who were afflicted with many ills a little brightness of song life. My coming was always heralded a week before, and expectant faces awaited me, knowing I would give entertainment. There was one poor sufferer who never expected to see his home again. On my arrival he was not able to leave his room. Being informed that the singing lady had arrived, he sadly sighed on his pillow, "Then I'll not hear her, as I had hoped." After the second evening Mrs. Roop related the story of the young man who was dying slowly and was so disappointed that he could not hear me sing before he passed away. I was touched by this appeal. I soon found four good voices among the guests and we arranged the quartette and practiced together until we could sing with soft effect. After we had entertained the guests for an hour we all marched quietly to the cottage of the young man. The moon was at its height and the time and scene befitting our tribute to the dying soul. The nurse opened the door quietly. The invalid had fallen asleep in the back room, the moon shining in at his window in soft light upon his pale face. With voices subdued we began the song of Home, Sweet Home. He talked in his sleep, "Yes, I am coming home." He heard, yet was not enough awake to know the song was sung by earthly voices. At last, with a deep sigh, he awoke and said, "Nurse, I have been called home. Shall I hear her sing before I go?" "Yes, I think so." While he spoke the sign was given and I sang Nearer, My God, to Thee, with the other voices softly following each verse. "Oh, the angel has come at last." "Listen, she is singing to you," said the nurse. "Hark, is it not the angel voices? Is it real? Then I have heard the heavenly song before I go. Oh, how beautiful it all is and how kind of all these friends to come to me and make me so happy with their song in my last hours on earth. Listen," he whispered. "Still another song for me," he gasped out. Safe in the Arms of Jesus we sang and he was listening intently as his life was ebbing away. As we closed the hymn, Sweetly His Soul Shall Rest, he had crossed the River of Life and nothing remained but the casket, emaciated and cold in death, with the face of a saint and a smile on his silent lips—gone to his eternal rest to hear the music of angelic voices around the Throne of God. This is the cup of cold water our Savior bade us to give. If the gift of the human voice is sanctified in such work of love, then it is worth while for every one who can sing and has this glorious gift of song to strive for the most beautiful use of it known to the art of tone production so as to bring happiness to the singer and his enwrapt listeners, be they young or old, rich or poor, sick or dying, in the sanctuary or for the bridal rejoicings. Vitiate not this gift with the lower thought of the art of singing. Strive for the highest ideals and your happiness will be tenfold greater.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

AUTHORS' CARNIVAL, 1880, PRESIDENT HAYES AND GENERAL SHERMAN PRESENT

HE GRAND Authors' Carnival given for the Associated Charities of San Francisco, October 18 to October 28, 1880, can well be classed as the crowning effort of anything attempted upon so large a scale. If there are still living in San Francisco auditors of the wonderful performance given by the 2000 participants who were enlisted in the great work they will corroborate my statement. The wealthy women who managed these homes financially, were also the officers of them and had called for aid. It was so beautiful to see the spirit of these people in completing the arrangements for this carnival. Meetings were held weekly until their plans had matured and it was agreed unanimously that the Booths of All Nations should be featured with the principal works of the world's greatest writers. Charles Crocker was chosen as treasurer. The books were selected and the booths received their names from the author of the books. The book that fell to our lot of actors was Martin Chuzzlewit, by Charles Dickens. At first our committee was inclined to refuse to act these queer characters, but we had given our word to help and we could not go back on that. I asked Mrs. Grove to let me take the book to see what could be done at this late hour. All the other booths had begun their rehearsals. It was fortunate for me that I had traveled much and seen so many odd characters. As I read carefully I was convinced we could excel in this very book. I went to the library and got a Dickens book illustrated by Cruikshank. We called a meeting and found we needed thirty-two persons. At this meeting I showed the possibilities of these seemingly ugly characters. Parts were assigned and arrangements made for rehearsals.