In order to bring the work within reach of those to whom it is not possible to give oral instruction, we have a correspondence course for pupils in this and neighboring states. In this way, we are reaching people from Humboldt to San Diego county in this state, and the list includes persons from Arizona, Washington, Nevada and Oregon. This course is well known to every county librarian in the state, and even custodians of very small branches send us the names of blind persons in their vicinity. Among the correspondence pupils is a man who was superintendent of a power plant before losing his eyesight, and he still holds the position, despite his handicap. He tests meters in three power houses daily, walking a distance of three miles in order to reach them all. I taught him to read and write two systems, to use a writing board, and he has now mastered the typewriter. He is a brave man silently fighting his way along the dark trail, and I am privileged in being permitted to guide his unaccustomed feet over the rocks and crevices I have long since learned to avoid. Another of the pupils is in the insurance business, and is also one of the Four Minute men in his country's service. I could give you many more instances of the splendid courage of these men and women who, though deprived of the most important of the special senses in adult life, are cheerfully doing their best, wasting no time in straining after the fruit just over "Fate's barbed wire fence." Our work carries us into hospitals and almshouses, and, through the co-operation of charitable organizations, we find the poor and, in addition to teaching them to read, we endeavor to better their condition, and the charities are always glad to second our efforts. The teacher in Los Angeles goes regularly to the County Hospital and County Farm, and up here I teach in the San Francisco Hospital, Relief Home, and in the San Leandro Infirmary, and it is a great joy to minister to these lonely, friendless souls. In the Relief Home I have a splendid class, and I go there once each week, and read to all the men in the ward, blind and seeing, before giving the lessons. Two of the men are knitting, one is making squares for the Belgian baby blankets, and the other a muffler for the Navy League. When I asked for volunteer knitters, one old colored man said, "Madam, my hands are not steady enough to knit, but I can hold the yarn for some man to wind."