An American Girl in Munich

ake Garda,

Cec

ve me are the apple blossoms; on either side lie tangles of vine and roses. In the distance are the neat white paths leading to the hotel where we are staying. It is not quite so civilized here as farther up the slope, where the

hes under the heavy weight of ice. Now the whole earth seems made new with the soft green of spring. As we rode along every now and then we caught sight of a fruit tree in full bloom: peach blossoms of mist

but it was a wonderfully beautiful room if we cared to see it. We assured her that we would take it on the spot, and gratefully climbed three narrow flights of stairs without a murmur. Though extremely primitive, the house was neat and clean, but we involuntarily exchanged glances when the landlady threw open the door at the head of the last flight and bowed for us to pass into the room she had so flatteringly described. Such a cubby-hole of a place, with a sloping roof, no carpet and one diamond-paned window, from which, by stretching out my arm, I could touch the window of the opposite house!

, the narrow streets and picturesque shrines. Our drive to Gries was through a veritable garden, for the fruit trees were abloom on e

oh! how he tried to cheat me! I had not had the sad and bitter experiences of shopping in Rome six years ago for nothing, however, and so I determined to settle on a price and remain firm. Accordingly I offered twenty heller for four oranges. My Italian is not fluent. It is limited to musical terms and a few selections from grand opera. I tried to recall something fitting, but the only lines which came to me were those of an aria from Semiramide, which could hardly be said to fit the occasion. How grieved, how shocked he looked-the old rascal!-a

man who sat next us. "Why, my dear young lady, for thi

lsides, such quaint spired churches perched in the most inaccessible places! The "witchery of the soft blue sky" enchants one. The lake, too, is

blue aprons over their short skirts, the men and boys in loose shirts, with scarlet handkerchiefs carelessly knotted about their throats and any sort of a cap on the back of their heads. They shouted to each other, they gesticulated wildly, they speculated on the length of time before we could be launched. Indeed, I do not believe there had been as much excitement in the little village for years. So

They lack that broad, cantabile style. Indeed, this branch of music is heard least of all here. Outside of the Rhine towns, which, I hear, have occasional festivals, little interest is shown in oratorio. At the St. Matthew the artists sang unsympathetically, but the choral singing was magnificent

nd an obligato 'cello. Last of all was Beethoven's ninth symphony. The stage had been enlarged to accommodate the big chorus. This was the first time I had ever heard this stupendous work. The singers sang with great spirit and as though they loved every n

to bow his thanks, he finally expressed them in a graceful little speech. I was too far away to catch all that he said, but at the end his Auf Wiedersehen bis n?chstes Ja

ake and then the train to Milan,-so addio ca

ter Sunday

ar old Hof-Theatre be but a day's trip away? When one has for months been going to the opera at seven and returning at the discreet hour of nine-thirty it seems nothing less than wild di

ired row. Here, however, the usher seized our checks, muttered to himself, shouted excitedly to a fellow-usher, tried to direct us and seve

t tell you what a peaceful, refreshing change it was to hear a soft Cielo! issue from the soprano's lips, instead of the Ach, Gott! to which we were accustomed; and to remark how easily the tenor floated along on br

t student life here. It seems that it is the height of a singer's ambition to make his début at La Scala which Toscanini, the conductor, rules with a rod of iron

ts after the season, but they are, as a rule, unsuccessful," h

operas produced

in favor, but the Italians

. P-- says he has been on the stage but a short time. There was one singer of whom the people decidedly disapproved, to judg

a most elaborate production lasting an hour, but had nothing to do with what went before, and to tell