Street near O. I did not have the pleasure of attending the opening of
this "shelter," because of a direct call to service about this time
with some traveling evangelists. I assisted them by giving out the
"good news" in song.

While I was traveling northward with these evangelists, there came into
my possession, in answer to prayer, my treasured, God-given little
autoharp, No. 1. My second was at one time the property of a now
pardoned State prisoner--his companion in his lonely hours when locked
in his cell.

"Where were your husband and your son all this time?" you inquire. The
former was away prospecting--his favorite occupation. The latter,
because of his love for the water and his desire to see other
countries, was an employee on an ocean-steamer.

MY SPIRITUAL MOTHER.

On Sept. 1, 1902, there passed into eternal rest one of the oldest
members of the First Methodist Episcopal church of San Francisco, Mrs.
Salemma Williams.

For more than twenty years this dear sainted friend, though I knew it
not, daily prayed and believed for my conversion. Five years before she
was made aware of the fact, her prayer had been answered. Her joy, when
one day I called upon her to impart the welcome news, knew no bounds,
and until she passed away we spent many happy days in each other's
company. A few hours before she went home, she gave her children and me
her parting blessings. The precious prayer of this dying saint as she
held her aged hands on my head comforts, sustains, and encourages me