the unwary students seem to believe in them. People
like to be deluded, you know. But I am not able to gratify their desires
in this direction; for I can't lie about music!

"I was present at a vocal lesson given by one of these so-called
instructors. 'You must sing in such a way that the tone will seem to
come out of the back of your head,' he told the pupil, and he waved his
arms about his head as though he were drawing the tone out visibly.
Another pupil was placed flat on his back, then told to breathe as
though he were asleep, and then had to sing in that position. Another
teacher I know of makes pupils eject spit-balls of tissue paper at the
ceiling, to learn the alleged proper control of the breath. What
criminal nonsense this is!

"As I have said, I believe in knowing what is necessary about anatomy,
but not in too great measure. A new book will soon be issued, I am told,
which actually dissects the human body, showing every bone and muscle in
any way connected with breath or voice. All this may be of interest as a
matter of research, but must one go into such minutiae in order to teach
singing? I think the answer must ever be in the negative. You might as
well talk to a gold-fish in a bowl-and say: 'If you desire to proceed
laterally to the right, kindly oscillate gently your sinister dorsal
fin, and you will achieve the desired result.' Oh, Art, what sins are
committed in thy name!"

IN THE STUDIO

It is often affirmed that an artist finds experience the best teacher.
It must be equally true that the artist-teacher of wide experience in
both performance and instruction, should be a safe guide, just because
of this varied experience.

I was impressed with this fact when I recently had the privilege of
visiting Mr. Bispham's studio during lesson hours, and listening to his
instruction. A most interesting sanctum is this studio, filled as it is
with souvenirs and pictures of the artist's long career on the operatic
stage. Here hangs a drawing in color of Bispham as Telramund, in shining
chain armor; there a life-size portrait as "Beethoven," and again as
himself. In the midst of all is the master, seated at a table. In front
of him, at the piano, stands the student. It is an English song she is
at work on, for Mr. Bispham thoroughly believes in mastering English as
well as other languages.

How alert he is as he sits there; how keen of eye and ear. Not the
slightest fault escapes him. He often sings the