buildings, their
pinnacles sharply tilted against the dazzling blue of the sky. The
harbor swarmed with seagoing craft; all was excitement and interest,
particularly so when the revenue cutter and the mail boat were shortly
made fast alongside the big liner. The kindly purser was soon pouring
hundreds of letters and telegrams into my eager hands, sweet and
welcoming messages--happy augury! All the world seemed to smile on me
that day. Not even the persistent reporters could curb my enthusiasm or
spoil my high spirits. How we laughed and chatted, Mr. Conried an amused
spectator at my side.

An avalanche of questions, almost all pointedly personal, were hurled at
me, everybody talking at once. The role of the modest violet was not to
be mine, I could see from the outset.... Yes, I loved Berlin.... Yes, I
had sung for the Emperor.... Yes, the Crown Prince and the Crown
Princess were a charming couple.... Yes, I hoped to duplicate my
European successes in my own country.... No, I was not engaged.... Nor
secretly married.... Why?... Well, because I just wasn't. And so
on--endlessly, it seemed. Pencils scribbled unceasingly and cameras
clicked at all possible angles. I did not care for that, since I wore a
most fetching little turban and some beautiful furs (the pictures
wouldn't be unattractive). I was hardly settled at my hotel when the
editions of the papers were being sold, and their readers learned from
the notices, profusely illustrated (the turban really did come out
well!), that "Geraldine Farrar had arrived."

Dazed and tired by the excitement of arrival and the thousand-and-one
greetings of welcoming friends, I could think of but one thing, my
debut. It pursued me by day and haunted my sleepless nights. No one can
imagine what anguish I endured once I was alone, and how difficult it
was to discuss the event with an airy indifference to outsiders. I told
myself there was nothing to fear; that my home people would love and
support me as had my loyal Berliners. If only the trying ordeal were
over!

[Illustration: PHOTO OF MARK TWAIN, SIGNED

TO MISS FARRAR, WITH THE KINDEST REGARDS OF

MARK TWAIN JAN. 1908]

To my disappointment "Romeo and Juliet" had been chosen, not only for my
debut, but for the opening performance of the season as well. In vain I
pleaded that, under such a strain I should acquit myself much better in
Elizabeth ("Tannhaeuser"), which I had just sung in Berlin and Munich
with great success. M