"Joe Eldridge arrived in San Francisco in 1849, and after visiting various parts of the State returned to San Francisco, in the house of Newhall and Co. About this time he lost his right leg in a very remarkable manner. He was in the habit of signalling each sale by a hearty slap of his hand on his right thigh at the word 'gone.' The constant concussion brought on a cancer, and the leg had to be amputated. This misfortune, which would have depressed most men, more or less, for the rest of their lives, had no effect on his energy or his high spirits. He was a most charitable man, and beloved by all who knew him, being one of the founders of Mill's Seminary, whilst he was a pillar of strength at Dr. Stone's first Congregational Church." One word as to Joe Eldridge's method of doing business. No one could get such prices as he obtained; and these he often secured by pretending to have heard bids which had never been made. "Nine dollars," an intending purchaser would say. "Ten dollars," Joe would cry. "I said nine," the bidder would explain. "Eleven!" shouted Joe. "I know your income, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself. Twelve!" he would then exclaim, supported and encouraged by the laughter and applause of the public. "And if you say another word I'll make it thirteen." A very different sort of man was the auctioneer by whom poor Eldridge was succeeded. He called me the spirited "impresio," and sang the praises of Mdme. Bauermeister, whose name he pronounced "Boormister," and Mdme. Lablache, whom he described as the famous "Labiche." Rinaldini was another of my singers whose name, sadly as he mutilated it, had evidently taken his fancy. Mdme. Bauermeister, Mdme. Lablache, and Signor Rinaldini are excellent artists. But it was a mistake to insist so much on their merits while passing over altogether those of Mdme. Patti, Mdlle. Nevada, and Mdme Scalchi. In due course we arrived at San Francisco, where the usual crowd was awaiting us. During the latter part of the journey one of my _corps de ballet_ became seriously indisposed, and died the following Tuesday in St. Mary's Hospital. She was but sixteen years of age, and had been with me eight years, being one of my Katti Lanner school children. She had taken cold in the dressing-room at Cheyenne. During the journey, the train being twenty-three hours late, she received the attention of Dr. Wixom, Mdme. Nevada's father, also of Dr. Palmer, Mdme. Nevada's present husband.