n _how_ to sing,' he said to me; 'you must
study.' He introduced me to a young man who at once took an interest in
me and brought me to a singing master named Vergine. I sang for him, but
he was very discouraging. His verdict was it would be hopeless to try to
make a singer out of me. As it was, I might possibly earn a few lire a
night with my voice, but according to his idea I had far better stick to
my father's trade, in which I could at least earn forty cents a day.

"But my young friend would not give up so easily. He begged Vergine to
hear me again. Things went a little better with me the second time and
Vergine consented to teach me.

RIGID DISCIPLINE

"And now began a period of rigid discipline. In Vergine's idea I had
been singing too loud; I must reverse this and sing everything softly.
I felt as though in a strait-jacket; all my efforts at expression were
most carefully repressed; I was never allowed to let out my voice. At
last came a chance to try my wings in opera, at ten lire a night
($2.00). In spite of the regime of repression to which I had been
subjected for the past three years, there were still a few traces of my
natural feeling left. The people were kind to me and I got a few
engagements. Vergine had so long trained me to sing softly, never
permitting me to sing out, that people began to call me the Broken
Tenor.

THE FIRST REAL CHANCE

"A better chance came before long. In 1896 the Opera House in Salerno
decided to produce _I Puritani_. At the last moment the tenor they had
engaged to sing the leading role became ill, and there was no one to
sing the part. Lombardi, conductor of the orchestra, told the directors
there was a young singer in Naples, about eighteen miles away, who he
knew could help them out and sing the part. When they heard the name
Caruso, they laughed scornfully. 'What, the Broken Tenor?' they asked.
But Lombardi pressed my claim, assured them I could be engaged, and no
doubt would be glad to sing for nothing.

"So I was sent for. Lombardi talked with me awhile first. He explained
by means of several illustrations, that I must not stand cold and stiff
in the middle of the stage, while I sang nice, sweet tones. No, I must
let out my voice, I must throw myself into the part, I must be alive to
it--must live it and in it. In short, I must act as well as sing.

A REVELATION

"It was all like a revelation to me. I had never realized before how
absolutely necessary it wa