l. In return, she may have to sacrifice many of
the comforts and pleasures which women covet. The more successful she
is, the more of a nomad she must become. She will know but few days for
years when she will not be compelled to practice for hours. She becomes
a kind of chattel of the musical public. She will be harassed by
ignorant critics and perhaps annoyed by unreliable managers. In return
she has money and fame, but, in fact, far less of the great joy and
purpose of life than if she followed the customary domestic career with
some splendid man as her husband. When I was younger I used to preach
quite an opposite sermon, but the more I see of the hardships of the
artist's life the less I think of the dollars and the fame it brings. It
is hard enough for a man, but it is twice as hard for a woman."

GOLDEN BAIT

Some cynic has contended that the much-despised "Almighty Dollar" has
been the greatest incentive to the struggling virtuoso in European music
centers. Although this may be true in a number of cases, it is certainly
unjust in others. Many of the virtuosos find travel in America so
distasteful that notwithstanding the huge golden bait, the managers have
the greatest difficulty in inducing the pianists to come back. Indeed,
there are many artists of great renown whom the managers would be glad
to coax to our country but who have withheld tempting offers for years.
One of these is Moritz Moszkowski, probably the most popular of modern
pianoforte composers of high-class music. Grieg, when he finally
consented to make the voyage to America, placed his price at two
thousand five hundred dollars for every concert--a sum which any manager
would regard prohibitive, except in the case of one world-famous
pianist. Grieg's intent was obvious.

The inconveniences of travel in America have been ridiculously
exaggerated in Europe, and many virtuosos dread the thought of an
American trip, with the great ocean yawning between the two continents,
and red-skinned savages just beyond New York or certainly not far from
Chicago. De Pachmann detests the ocean, and when he comes over in his
favorite month of June he does not dare return until the following June.
Others who have never visited America must get their idea of American
travel from some such account as that of Charles Dickens in his
unforgivable _American Notes_ (1842), in which he said, in describing
one of our railroads:

"There is a great deal of jolting, a