uld have coffee and a triangle of cherry pie,
and what cherry pie! at the _Hundekehle_, an immense restaurant on the
border of a small lake, accommodating I don't know how many fat
Prussians at once with refreshments. Every German town has some such
resort, where inexpensive creature comforts are the reward of a long
walk. Such an expedition of the whole family is their greatest treat,
and one in which they have the sense to indulge as often as possible.
Even on week day afternoons the housewives find time for a stroll, a
reviving cup of coffee, and a little gossip, though of course that is
not the same thing as going _en masse_ with Hans and the Kinder. Of
course, this was long before the war.

CHAPTER VII

MY FIRST OPERATIC CONTRACT SIGNED

By the first of December I had broken the back of the German
declensions, understood a good part of an ordinary conversation, and had
painfully acquired three or four roles in German. The gadfly of my
ambition began to torment me again, and I determined to look for a
"job."

Students often ask me "How did you get your first engagement?" This is
how. I went to see the best agent in Berlin, Herr Harder, a man of the
highest reputation for fair dealing, who was the recognized head of his
profession. Opinion as to the agent's powers of usefulness is divided
among singers. Some maintain that they have made all their good
engagements independently, others tell you that you are safe only in the
hands of a reputable agent. I have closed contracts in both ways. The
agent is not omnipotent. It is his business to watch the operatic field
and notify you when there is a vacancy that he thinks would suit you. He
is apt to know first where such vacancies are likely to occur. Directors
who are looking for singers sometimes go straight to their favourite
agent. Then he, the agent, sends you word that Herr Direktor So and So
will be at his Bureau on such a day to hear singers. When you respond,
you may find yourself the only contralto among many other voices, or you
may find yourself one of six or seven all wanting the same engagement.
The agent keeps contract blanks in his office, and when he hears of a
vacancy in an opera house, he fills in a blank with your name, the name
of the theatre, and tentatively the salary he thinks they will pay, and
sends it to you. You sign it if it suits you, and return it to the
agent. This is really nothing more than a notification that there is, or
wil