ower of mimicry, but nothing comes
from within. The fine teacher can, of course, take a fine sense of tonal
values, etc., and, provided the student has a really good natural voice,
lead him to reveal to himself the ways in which he can use his voice to
the best advantage. Add to this a fine musical training, and we have a
singer. But no teacher can give to a voice that velvety smoothness, that
liquid fluency, that bell-like clarity which the ear of the educated
musician expects, and which the public at large demands, unless the
student has the power of determining for himself what is good and what
is bad.

FOUR YEARS OF HARD TRAINING

It was no easy matter to give up the gratifying success which attended
my pianistic appearances to begin a long term of self-study,
self-development. Yet I realized that it would hardly be possible for me
to accomplish what I desired in less than four years. Therefore, I
worked daily for four years, drilling myself with the greatest care in
scales, arpeggios and sustained tones. The colorature facility I seemed
to possess naturally, to a certain extent; but I realized that only by
hard and patient work would it be possible to have all my runs, trills,
etc., so that they always would be smooth, articulate and free--that
is, unrestricted--at any time. I studied the roles in which I aspired
to appear, and attended the opera faithfully to hear fine singing, as
well as bad singing.

As the work went on it became more and more enjoyable. I felt that I was
upon the right path, and that meant everything. If I had continued as a
pianist I could never have been more than a mediocrity, and that I could
not have tolerated.

About this time came a crisis in my father's business; it became
necessary for me to teach. Accordingly, I took a number of piano pupils
and enjoyed that phase of my work very much indeed. I gave lessons for
four years, and in my spare time worked with my voice, all by myself,
with my friend, the piano. My guiding principles were:

_There must be as little consciousness of effort in the throat as
possible._

_There must always be the Joy of Singing._

_Success is based upon sensation, whether it feels right to me in
my mouth, in my throat, that I know, and nobody else can tell me._

I remember that my grandmother, who sang _Una voce poco fa_ at
seventy-five, always cautioned me to never force a single tone. I did
not study exercises like those o