On January 6, 1901, I sang for the last time in regular active service. Later in the year I assisted at different times the Fruitvale Congregational chapel, Eighth Avenue Methodist Church, Brooklyn Presbyterian Church, churches in Alameda and other small struggling churches when they needed a helping hand. It was my pleasure to do what I could to encourage the pastors and people of these small mission churches and in other churches where I had sung before on extra occasions. On September 1, 1901, on returning from St. Paul's Church, after having heard the monthly programme of song, I met my old Santa Cruz friends of 1864, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Metti and with them walked to their home. After spending a pleasant hour with them Mr. Metti escorted me to the San Pablo avenue cars. On alighting from the car at the corner of Broadway and Thirteenth street the motorman started up when I was but half way down and I was not able to hold on firmly enough, consequently the car shot out and left me on the street with a broken body. The accident closed forever my usefulness as a public singer and rang down for me the curtain upon any future work of this kind, to my great sorrow. Twelve long years I have borne this unhappy condition of things, yet I have not been a drone in the hive of busy humanity. I have fought the battle and won, and am still able to wear a smiling countenance and guide the young people into the pleasant path of song, and my success has been a compensation for all the suffering which has passed. As long as I am a factor for usefulness I will cheerfully do my duty. As long as I am able to chronicle the best results as a competent teacher of voice, which has been my vocation for over thirty years, I will be content. I have been rewarded by having given to our state many beautiful singers who remember with gratitude their aged instructor, no matter where they may reside, and a number of them are climbing and have climbed to high positions of prominence as singers of ability, and with personal attractions which have given them their stepping-stones to higher attainments in the art of vocal music. CHAPTER ELEVEN GOLDEN JUBILEE OF SONG SERVICE, JUNE 12, 1896 Three days before my sixtieth birthday, which occurred on June 12, 1896, I incidentally mentioned to a friend that, on that date, I would also be fifty years a singer before the public. The next morning a phone message asked me to come down to the _Call_ office on some G.A.R. business, as I supposed. This I did. When I entered the office I was engaged in conversation for an hour while, unknown to me, a shorthand reporter and an artist were taking notes. I returned to my studio unconscious that my words had been recorded and that my picture had been sketched by the quick hand of Richard Partington. What was my great surprise on opening the _Call_ on the morning of the 12th to find myself pictured on the first page as happily laughing as could be. The headlines ran like this: