larly unheroic person
sneaks in with his wife, whom he commissions to interview Butterfly
while he waits in the garden outside. Mrs. Pinkerton rather
cold-bloodedly offers to take charge of the child, to which Butterfly
agrees, and, after a passionate farewell, kills herself behind a
screen. Puccini's music is unquestionably the strongest thing he has
done yet. The score is richer and more solid than that of any of his
earlier works, and the orchestration shows no falling off in ingenuity
and resource. Melodically 'Madama Butterfly' is perhaps not so fresh or
abundant as 'La Boheme,' but the composer's touch is firmer and surer in
handling dramatic situations. 'Madama Butterfly' is unquestionably one
of the most interesting and important operas of modern times, as it is
one of the most attractive. It has established Puccini more firmly than
ever in the position of the leading operatic composer of the day.

The name of Pietro Mascagni is chiefly connected in the minds of
opera-goers with 'Cavalleria Rusticana,' This work, which was produced
in 1890, lifted its composer at once into popularity. The story is
founded upon one of Verga's Sicilian tales. Turiddu, a village Adonis,
is beloved by the fair Lola. He enlists as a soldier, and on his return
from the wars finds that the fickle damsel has married Alfio, a carter.
He looks round him for fresh conquests, and his choice falls upon
Santuzza. This arouses all Lola's latent coquetry, and she soon
contrives to win him back to her side. The deserted Santuzza appeals in
vain to his love and pity. He repulses her roughly, and in despair she
tells Alfio the story of his wife's inconstancy. Alfio challenges
Turiddu to mortal combat, and kills him as the curtain falls. Squalid as
the story is, it is full of life and movement, and has that simple
directness which is essential to success. The music is melodious, if
not very original, and vigorous even to brutality. Mascagni here shows a
natural instinct for the theatre. His method is often coarse, but his
effects rarely miss their mark. At its production 'Cavalleria' was
absurdly overpraised, but it certainly is a work of promise.
Unfortunately the promise so far has not been fulfilled. 'L'Amico Fritz'
and 'I Rantzau,' two adaptations of novels by Erckmann-Chatrian,
produced respectively in 1891 and 1892, have almost disappeared from the
current repertory. The first is a delicate little story of an old
bachelor's love for a pretty