The Washington times., 1938-05-14

curiosity. I'm very fond of good
music"
HIS VOICE AND WIFE
She gave me q queer glance
from the corners Of her long black
eyes. "Signor Amato is q great
singer" she said simply. "Soon
the Opera begins. He sings there
each year. Now he must rehearSe
his roles"
His wife?" I asked.
"She is a delicate invalid. All!
He is SO tender with her! Could
all men be sol Many years they
have lived here in my house. He
can no longer travel with the
famous Opera companies all over
the world, because he will not
leave her. She cannot travel. But
every year he sings in the Opera
when 1t come here-Ah, what a
voice for pOpera!"
I studied her expression closely,
but 1t was intent. serious.
The days dreamed away. We
had even become Injured to Signor
Amato's singing. Now the Opera
had begun. We saw the same
preparations each evening across
the court. The talk silk hat was
brushed until 1t shone, the fine
great-coat with fur collar donned,
and with much gaiety, he de-
parted.
We could not help hear his late
return. He brought her flowers,
gave fulsome descriptions of his
encoreS and ovationS. Listening to
it all I began to believe I had
grown tone deaf-Perhaps he DID
sing at the Opera!
The next night we were stroll
ing down Canal Street. A sudden
crowd rushed together on the cor
ner Of q cross street. An accident
of some kind had taken place. We
hastened our steps and Joined the
throng.
A push-cart laden high with
bananas had been struck by a
car. The mashed golden fruit lay
strewn all over the pavement. In
the gutter with head against the
curb lay the unconscious owner.
drew nearer. Something seemed
familiar about the stout recum-
bent form. It was Signor Amato.
KIND NEIGHBORS
The ambulance came. We told
the doctor we knew the injured
man, and rode with them to the
city hospital. There were no brok-
en- bones, he was only bruised and
battered. His first words after he
knew where he was. were, What
is the time?"
We came over to the bed on
which he was lying.
TITS after II, Signor Amato,"
said my husband.
Look" said I, displaying the
contents Of the carefully wrapped
bundle had rescued from the
push-cart, here are your overcoat
and hat. They are not hurt. Put
them on and we will take you
home in a cab. It's time-time for
the Opera to be finished.
You are my neighborS at Ma
dame La Rue's," he murmured. ut
is so kind Of you.
Going home in the cab he said:
"I am glad you do not think me
one crazy one. You have heard
me sing and said nothing. OF
course, you must know my wife;
she is deaf now. But once I sang.
In Milan, Rome, Paris-all over
the world; before kings and
prices. We arrived in New
orleans. It was the fever time
and I became very i'll. Long I lay
as one dead. And when I was
well, the voice, it was gone-gone
forever.
But my Angelo was i'll Of the
fever, too. She it crippled and,
most strange Of all, she could hear
no more. I have never told her
the voice is gone. That could
spare her. Still she thinks I am
the greatest living tenor.
A GIFT FOR MADAME
"Signor Amato," I said, "how
can one measure greatness? You
are still great"
Mardi Gras had come and gone
and other places beckoned US.
Packing. T stood regarding the
canary had been unable to with
stand buying one day. I could not
take him with me. A sudden
thought. I lifted his cage and
went to Madame La Rue's door.
IF I might offer him to Ma
dame Amato?" I asked.
Come" she said, I'VE will go to
her"
We traversed the long hallway
around the inner court. Madame
opened a door.
I crossed to the great easy chair
by the windows.
madame Amato," I addressed