od among her mates
and told a simple story. With hopeful anticipation, her many loving
friends will follow her future which seems already unfolding, and
as the child glides to womanhood, our little twinkling star may
rise by and by from dear Melrose, and become resplendent in the
musical firmament, where all the world will love to listen and do
her homage.

The first flowers sent to me at this recital, carefully dried and
pressed, are still one of my dearest souvenirs; and I also treasure
carefully the first card of good wishes sent to me on that occasion. It
bears the carefully engraved name of "Mr. John E. Pilling," and
underneath is written: "May success always attend you." I hope Mr.
Pilling, if he ever sees these lines, will accept the long-deferred
thanks of the little Melrose girl to whom he sent such an encouraging
message.

In my last year of study under Mrs. Long I reveled for the first time in
the joys of grand opera. That winter in Boston, the Castle Square Opera
Company, an excellent organization managed by Henry W. Savage, was
presenting grand opera in English at the old Castle Square Theater. The
leading singers were J. K. Murray and his wife, Clara Lane. I became a
subscriber to this excellent company's performances on Wednesday
matinees. To me these matinees were meat and drink; all performances
were well supported by music-lovers in the vicinity. It was Clara Lane
whom I first heard sing "Carmen," a role which has recently figured
so successfully in my own repertoire at the Metropolitan in New York.
During these enjoyable weeks I heard this company sing most of the grand
opera repertoire, in English, and I was thrilled and fascinated.

[Illustration: JEAN DE RESZKE]

Then came another great and unexpected joy. The Maurice Grau Grand Opera
Company, from the Metropolitan Opera House in New York, visited Boston
for a spring season at Mechanics Hall. My mother decided that I must
hear Calve sing "Carmen." The cast included Jean de Reszke, then at the
height of his success; Emma Eames, Saleza, Pol Plancon as the toreador,
and of course the wonderful Calve. I completely lost my head over this
remarkable performance. For days and nights I reveled in the memories of
that magnificent representation. This, then, was the visualization of
all my dreams of years. This triumph I had witnessed was that toward
which all my hopes, fears, and prayers had been directed. This wonderful
c