Miss M. Hyde, accompanist and director.
Miss Lulu Joran, 16 years old, piano virtuoso.
Miss Pauline, 14 years old, violin virtuoso.
Miss Elsie, 12 years old, piano virtuoso.
Mrs. M.R. Blake, soloist.
It was most remarkable how these children interpreted the most difficult masterpieces, and played them with art. Once at a special concert in the Metropolitan temple, San Francisco, the youngest of them, Miss Elsie, was seated at a Steinway grand piano, too small to touch the pedals, (an adjustment had to be made) and with sixty of our best musicians on the stage she played from memory the most difficult concerto. All the children possessed the art of absolute pitch and they were able with bandaged eyes to tell the notes of any chords that were sounded. Miss Pauline was an excellent violinist besides possessing a fine contralto voice which I had trained for the space of a year and a half. She is, I am very proud to say, a most beautiful singer in London today at the age of forty years. In 1910 I clipped from one of the English papers the following: "Pauline Joran, one of the most gifted young American opera singers now in Europe, made her debut recently in Milan under Sonzogno, singing at the Teatro Lirico, the role of Santuzza and Nedda with the greatest success. She has been singing in Great Britain under Sir Augustus Harris and will be heard here next season."
A teacher can be proud that her work of the foundation of tone building resulted in such a successful finish. Pauline possessed the talent and I could foresee the future if she had the proper means, for she sang with taste and feeling. She accompanied the singer with graceful interpretation on her violin and played the piano like an artist. We traveled and sang together for two years and went to Stockton, Sacramento, San Jose and all the smaller places around San Francisco. The latter part of the eighties the Jorans returned to London where they have remained ever since. In her girlish way Pauline used to say, "Oh, dear auntie, when I am a great singer won't you be glad and proud of me?" And so I am, and I hope all who have had the same help will be as successful as this young pupil.
WM. P. MELVIN
During my professional life as a vocal teacher I have been called upon to part with some of my musical family and also to perform the last tribute which one friend can pay to another—to sing the song asked for on his deathbed. During my residence in Oakland I have parted with five of my beloved pupils. The first string of my lute was severed by God's decree when he called William P. Melvin to a higher life. He was born in Steubenville, Ohio, March 18, 1859, and came here in his infancy with his parents from Springfield, Ill. Dr. Melvin, his father, entered the drug business and William was engaged in the same business with him. Later on William was secretary of the Mountain View Cemetery association, which office he held until his last illness.
He had a beautiful, resonant and full bass voice. He came to my studio some time in 1895 and was enrolled among my students, and coming from a musical family, his brother, Supreme Justice Henry Melvin, possessing a fine baritone voice, and his beloved sister, Mrs. Mollie Melvin-Dewing, an excellent mezzo-soprano, it was not strange he sang so well in a few months. William received his instruction in the evening when his daily duties were over and came to my studio which was on the third floor of the building at 1108-1/2 Broadway, over the Clark Wise music store. He continued his studies until 1897 when his sickness began to affect his beautiful voice and his lessons were necessarily discontinued. The first two years his progress was so satisfactory that I hoped his third year would be the crowning year of his efforts as an efficient and splendid bass singer. My heart sank within me when I had learned the nature of the sickness that had permanently fastened itself upon him. He was as reluctant to discontinue as I was to have him, but we were obliged to submit to the inevitable decree, "Thou shalt die and not live." It was a sad parting. I tried to be cheerful and held out hopes for his recovery, but it was not to be. On October 3, 1899, he was laid away in the quiet tomb amidst beautiful blossoms and many tears from those who knew him best. Mr. Melvin was one of the most delightful personalities—gentle and kind as a woman, always genial and accommodating, with always a pleasant word for every one. Even though suffering from this disease which no doubt made life a burden, no one in his presence was aware of his suffering. He was always bright and cheery. As I passed his casket with other sad friends to take a farewell look upon him and place upon his coffin my tribute of violets, my tears dropped upon his last resting place as I beheld all that was mortal of my beloved and affectionate pupil for whom I mourned as a mother mourns for her son. A prayer arose to my lips to the God of the universe that as peacefully as he slept in his earthly casket that He would give him the peace that passeth all understanding when he entered the portals of Heaven. Rest, sweet spirit, rest. You are absent but not forgotten by your sincere and devoted teacher and friend.
ROSE CHAMPION
The second one of my musical family to pass out of life was Miss Rose Champion. As Jesus wept at the grave of his dear friend Lazarus, I wept, that one so young and gifted should be taken away from her little family of three beautiful girls, and a sweet-voiced singer should be forever stilled. She began her lessons with me in 1897 and continued until 1899. She was possessed of a clear, lyric soprano voice and sang with ease and grace and with soulful touch she fascinated the listener by her intelligent interpretation of song. I predicted for her a future to be envied, but circumstances over which I had no control came in the way of her future progress and she unwillingly made a change and I never heard a song from her after that. When she was married she sent for me to sing at her wedding at her home. As I was ready to return to my home she came to me before she went on her trip, and embraced me and said, "I knew you would come, and you have made me most happy for I always loved you so. It was not my fault that I left you." I told her I was sure of that and that I sang for her with all my heart and the fact that she had sent for me to perform the highest favor she could ask was sufficient proof that she had been loyal to her first instructions. For several years she lived happily as Mrs. James Lanyon. On April 21, 1908, I read with the deepest regret the announcement of her death. Having met with an accident I was not able to attend the funeral or to hear the story of the taking away of such a bright, intelligent and young mother and sweet singer, but there lingers a sweet memory which will last as long as I live. When I think of her, I also think of what might have been had circumstances decreed otherwise. It is to be hoped she may be foremost in the songs of the Immortal Choir. Sweetly sleep, sweet singer, until the Grand Amen of the Lost Chord shall be sung at the last great day, with all the redeemed in the congregation of the righteous.
