Sunday, March 9th. Having met some pleasant people in our travels, Mrs. Baxter of Tacoma, Mrs. Gaten of Portland, and a friend of mine, Mrs. Kilbourn, we were enabled to see more of the places of interest during our stay in Portland. At ten o'clock our friends arrived at the hotel and in a smart conveyance we were soon enjoying the brisk morning air. Our destination was a Sisters' Hospital. After an hour's ride we alighted in front of this spacious, comfortable-looking building which proved to be St. Joseph's Hospital. We were welcomed by Sister Josephine who guided us all over the place, the dormitories, dining room, halls and corridors. Everything was kept in the neatest order. At last we stopped in front of the chapel. The place was partially lighted, showing the altar of white and gold, the brass candlesticks and vases of marble filled with roses. The altar was draped with white linen and pink silk linings and lace frills. A soft pink light pervaded the place, which gave it an ethereal appearance and filled me with solemn awe as I turned away. The day had begun very fair but when we returned to the hotel the rain was in full force. After dinner our friends called again and we were taken to their beautiful mansion where we met a company of eight very interesting persons, and with pleasant repartee and some good music we enjoyed the hours until ten o'clock when we were once more returned to the hotel and, tired out from our day's adventures, sleep soon claimed us. Monday, the 20th, we gave our last concert and we had a most magnificent reception and a crowded and enthusiastic house. Vivian was in great form and his "Ten Thousand Miles Away" and "Where's Rosanna Gone" took the house by storm. Walter and I received our share of glory as did Mr. Wand and Mr. Kohler. Thus ended our three nights and one matinee in Portland, Oregon. Left Portland for Oregon City and arrived about six o'clock in the evening. The scenery here is magnificent. The city is one long street, the valley is not wider than to allow one street and two rows of railroad tracks, then comes the Willamette river and across that the canal and the high mountains again. Above the Imperial Mills are the Willamette Falls. As I stood within several feet of the falls I looked on the scene below the large mills, the canal, mountains, the small quaint town. We could see the boats in the canal unloading their freight. The Cliff House was the only hotel; not attractive but well kept. Our house was not well filled; the mill men were angry at a dollar admission so remained away and missed the fun for their pains. [Illustration: WILLIAM H. KEITH, Baritone Pupil in 1881]