Stein, was to have followed him in ten days.
The war changed that. The war was to change many things. Fanny seemed to
sense the influx of musicians that was to burst upon the United States
following the first few weeks of the catastrophe, and she set about
forestalling it. Advertising. That was what Theodore needed. She had
faith enough in his genius. But her business sense told her that this
genius must be enhanced by the proper setting. She set about creating
this setting. She overlooked no chance to fix his personality in the
kaleidoscopic mind of the American public--or as much of it as she could
reach. His publicity man was a dignified German-American whose methods
were legitimate and uninspired. Fanny's enthusiasm and superb confidence
in Theodore's genius infected Fenger, Fascinating Facts, even Nathan
Haynes himself. Nathan Haynes had never posed as a patron of the arts,
in spite of his fantastic millions. But by the middle of September there
were few of his friends, or his wife's friends, who had not heard of
this Theodore Brandeis. In Chicago, Illinois, no one lives in houses, it
is said, except the city's old families, and new millionaires. The rest
of the vast population is flat-dwelling. To say that Nathan Haynes'
spoken praise reached the city's house-dwellers would carry with it a
significance plain to any Chicagoan.

As for Fanny's method; here is a typical example of her somewhat crude
effectiveness in showmanship. Otti had brought with her from Vienna
her native peasant costume. It is a costume seen daily in the Austrian
capital, on the Ring, in the Stadt Park, wherever Viennese nurses
convene with their small charges. To the American eye it is a musical
comedy costume, picturesque, bouffant, amazing. Your Austrian takes
it quite for granted. Regardless of the age of the nurse, the skirt is
short, coming a few inches below the knees, and built like a lamp shade,
in color usually a bright scarlet, with rows of black velvet ribbon at
the bottom. Beneath it are worn skirts and skirts, and skirts, so that
the opera-bouffe effect is complete. The bodice is black velvet, laced
over a chemise of white. The head-gear a soaring winged affair of
stiffly starched white, that is a pass between the Breton peasant
woman's cap and an aeroplane. Black stockings and slippers finish the
costume.

Otti and Mizzi spent the glorious September days in Lincoln park,
Otti garbed in staid American stripes and apron, Mizzi res