t as he found it.
Interviewed, he expressed his displeasure in the newspapers. The
managers of the organization wisely remained silent, and a controversy
was avoided, but the public had received a suggestion of petulance which
could not contribute to the popularity of the new dancer.

Nijinsky danced for the first time in New York on the afternoon of April
12, at the Metropolitan Opera House. The pieces in which he appeared on
that day were _Le Spectre de la Rose_ and _Petrouchka_. Some of us
feared that eighteen months in a detention camp would have stamped their
mark on the dancer. As a matter of fact his connection with the Russian
Ballet had been severed in 1913, a year before the war began. I can say
for myself that I was probably a good deal more nervous than Nijinsky on
the occasion of his first appearance in America. It would have been a
cruel disappointment to me to have discovered that his art had perished
during the intervening three years since I had last seen him. My fears
were soon dissipated. A few seconds after he as the Rose Ghost had
bounded through the window, it was evident that he was in possession of
all his powers; nay, more, that he had added to the refinement and
polish of his style. I had called Nijinsky's dancing perfection in years
gone by, because it so far surpassed that of his nearest rival; now he
had surpassed himself. True artists, indeed, have a habit of
accomplishing this feat. I may call to your attention the careers of
Olive Fremstad, Yvette Guilbert, and Marie Tempest. Later I learned that
this first impression might be relied on. Nijinsky, in sooth, has now no
rivals upon the stage. One can only compare him with himself!

The Weber-Gautier dance-poem, from the very beginning until the end,
when he leaps out of the window of the girl's chamber into the night,
affords this great actor-dancer one of his most grateful opportunities.
It is in this very part, perhaps, which requires almost unceasing
exertion for nearly twelve minutes, that Nijinsky's powers of
co-ordination, mental, imaginative, muscular, are best displayed. His
dancing is accomplished in that flowing line, without a break between
poses and gestures, which is the despair of all novices and almost all
other _virtuosi_. After a particularly difficult leap or toss of the
legs or arms, it is a marvel to observe how, without an instant's pause
to regain his poise, he rhythmically glides into the succeeding
gesture. His danc