The Intermountain Catholic. (Salt Lake City [Utah] ;) 1899-1920, 1903-05-30

questioning her on those bygOne times,
she told me the tale in her own pref
ty, spontaneous fashion, smiling half
gladly, half sadly, as one memory after
another arose before her.
you ask me-" she said, what can
first remember. Indeed, l hardly
know; but l can, at least, repeat all
that my parents had to say of me
from my cradle upwards. My dear
mother declared that my first cry was
song in itself-a melodious call for
help. But for my part, believe cried
just as shrilly as any other baby.
Let me see, how can 1 first picture
myself? l think the picture must be
OF tiny girl with pale face and very,
very big black eyes, running down
Broadway trundling a hoop. oh, the
pride and feryor 1 put into my task.
And l trundled my hoop WE'LL What
ever 1 did 1 always put my whole
heart into it. 1 am not sure that has
not been the secret of my success
all through life.
After a while l can remember my
| father and mother taking me with
them, night after night, to the opera
house, where they were engaged for
! a season, at New York. That remem-
branC IS a vivid one. 1 used to watch
their performance through hole in
the curtain, and the singers, as they
passed by, often gave me. toys and
kisses, and filed my pockets with
sweets. No other artist did 1 consider
equal to my beloved mother. One
great soprano who appeared for few
nights as a star must have thought
me a strange little creature. She had
just finished long aria with trill at
the end, and was coming off the stage
to the sound of tremendous applause,
when l ran up to her, quite naively
saying, Oh, dear! how badly you did
that trill. Not nearly close enough.
Listen to me. There, this is the way!'
had been taught how to shake
but it came to me naturally, and 1 am
told that trill was very good one
After being put to my bed on my re-
turn home from being at the opera,
used to hop out again when | was
quite certain that my father and
mother and every one in the house
had gone to sleep. l can see myself,
now, dancing and singing, dressed up
in all the oldest costumes | could lay
hold Of l was particularly fond of
death scenes. Norma was my favor
lite of all; and if satisfied with my
own performance I cried out, Bravo!
Bravar Adelina! and threw boquets
and wreaths at my own little bare
feet. Those bouquets and wreaths
were made of old newspapers.
After while my mother gave me
lessons in the theory of music, and, as
far as 1 can remember, 1 practiced
"a few solfeggi with her l was only
seven years old when the opera COM
pany to which my father and mother
belonged began to fail 1 can now re-
call how sad and anxious they both
We're; how money was wanting: and
how at last, one day 1 could bear my
fathers troubled face no longer.
Don't sell your beautiful turquoise
pin to help us. papa" | said, L will
help you. Let me be a little singer.
lam sure [ sing well enough Ny
fathers eyes filled with tears at the
thought. No, no.; he said. What
you say is impossible But the idea
mad taken hold of me. 1 gave no
peace to my family, until my appear
ance at Niblo's Gardens as a prima
donna of seven summers was a fat
accompli. My anxiety to be dressed
like a real prima donna was great;
and to please me my mother braided
my hair and powdered my tiny brown
face. I don't think l was nervous or
frightened; and when came to sing
Una Voce, and the 'Sonnambula,'
was full of childish faith and hope.
The non Dieu was at my side. 1 be-
came great success from that mo-
ment. Money poured in at every ap,
pearance at Niblo's Gardens, and my
father and mother were once more at
ease. 1 don't think there was proud
er heart in all New York than when a
cosy red-brick house was bought with
my earnings and my whole family in
stalled there. All, that house is
standing now.
You asked if, as child, I ever
heard the prima donna of a by-gone
time? Yes; 1 once heard Jenny Lind,
and dear Alboni with the grand, rich
voice, and wonderful method. and
Henrietta Sontag. She sang like an
angel from heaven. 1 can hear her
now in theeDove Song from Mozart's
'Nozze di Figaro 1t was glorious.
OF me she formed the opinion that |
had been too early brought out to sue
ceed later on in life; but she was
very kind to me, and when 1 left her
she gave me charming souvenir
real fan which she had worn at her
glrdle. Then Mario and Grisi. Their
debut in New York was one of the |
eXcitments of my life. So eager
was to see and hear the king and
queen of song, as my father and
mother had taught me to consider
them, that l could think of nothing
else for weeks before the great event
came off. 1 saved up my every cent
to buy bunch of camellias, which 1
to offer to Grisi as a proof |
Of my admiration. At. length the
great day arrived, and l cannot tell
you with what joy, what fear and
trembling, chung to my mothers
skirts as we went together to the ar
lists room at the close of the per-
torrance to be introduced to the