een singing in Berlin, when
the impresario of the Royal Opera approached me and asked me if I could
sing _Aida_ on a following Monday. I realized that if I admitted that I
had never sung _Aida_ before, the thoroughgoing, matter-of-fact German
Intendant would never even let me have a chance. Emmy Destinn was then
the prima donna at the Royal Opera, and had been taken ill. The post was
one of the operatic plums of all Europe. Before I knew it, I had said
"Yes, I can sing _Aida_." It was a white lie, and once told, I had to
live up to it. I had never sung _Aida_, and only knew part of it.
Running home I worked all night long to learn the last act. Over and
over the role hundreds and hundreds of times I went, until it seemed as
though my eyes would drop out of my head. Monday night came, and thanks
to my routine experience in smaller companies, I had learned _Aida_ so
that I was perfectly confident of it. Imagine the strain, however, when
I learned that the Kaiser and the court were to be present. At the end I
was called before the Kaiser, who, after warmly complimenting me, gave
me the greatly coveted post in his opera house. I do not believe that he
ever found out that the little Toronto girl had actually fibbed her way
into an opportunity.

TALES OF STRAUSS

Strauss was one of the leading conductors while I was at the Royal Opera
and I sang under his baton many, many times. He was a real genius,--in
that once his art work was completed, his interest immediately centered
upon the next. Once while we were performing _Rosenkavalier_ he came
behind the scenes and said:

"Will this awfully _long_ opera never end? I want to go home." I said to
him, "But Doctor, you composed it yourself," and he said, "Yes, but I
never meant to conduct it."

Let it be explained that Strauss was an inveterate player of the German
card game, Scat, and would far rather seek a quiet corner with a few
choice companions than go through one of his own works night after
night. However, whenever the creative instinct was at work he let
nothing impede it. I remember seeing him write upon his cuffs (no doubt
some passing theme) during a performance of _Meistersinger_ he was
conducting.

THE SINGER'S GREATEST NEED

The singer's greatest need, or his greatest asset if he has one, is an
honest critic. My husband and I have made it a point never to miss
hearing one another sing, no matter how many times we have heard each
other sing in a role. Som