s
still under age. It was agreed that I was to sing "Faust," "Traviata,"
and "Pagliacci," three roles, in Italian, but I was not to be required
to sing in German until I should perfect myself in the language.

[Illustration: SIGNED PHOTO OF WILHELM II OF GERMANY WITH A CHILD]

Then ensued a spring and summer of great preparations, for my contract
did not begin until the following autumn. We went to Lake Constance,
Switzerland, to study with Graziani. I was as thin as a young girl could
well afford to be, yet I worked to the full limit of my strength, for I
realized that my wonderful opportunity had at last arrived. I literally
floated on air that summer.

Then, too, I had planned a surprise that would especially please the
women: the matter of dress. There lives in Paris an artist to her
finger-tips in the matter of creating stage frocks, and that wonderful
woman has made every costume from head to feet that I have ever put on
in the theater. She had already "combined me" such lovely things as made
my heart thrill to appear in them!

The night of October 15, 1901, was my debut at the Royal Opera, Berlin.
There was no advance notice, no presswork. The bill bore the usual three
asterisks in this wise, as I was a "guest" and not a member of the
company:--

MARGUERITE........... ***

At the bottom of the programme, in small type, the three asterisks were
repeated, and the line:--

*** MISS GERALDINE FARRAR AUS NEW YORK

In the simplest of dainty blue crepe-de-Chine frocks, with a lace bonnet
over blond curls, "Marguerite" Farrar tripped engagingly down to the
footlights with a shy glance of inquiry to the ardent "Faust" who
commenced so successful a wooing with "May I give you my arm?"--and
everybody felt at that moment how regretful "Marguerite" Farrar was,
that the exigencies of the opera did not permit a courteous acceptance
of so charming a support to her gateway.

I remember that Dr. Muck conducted divinely; that I was very happy and
self-possessed, and my mother said I looked like an angel. I had at last
made my debut.

The following morning the criticisms were so splendid that I told my
mother I would never get any more to equal them--and I did not for a
long time. Instantly after my success the hammers came out. The idea of
letting an American girl sing in Italian in the sacred Royal Opera
House--it was preposterous! Count von Hochberg was mildly censured by
the press for permitting such proceedings. Ne