第16章

类别:其他 作者:Willa Cather字数:10752更新时间:19/01/07 15:03:41
Isometimeswonderwhethersheisnotglad。Freshassheisatitall,I’veoccasionallyfanciedthat,ifsheknewhow,shewouldliketo——diminish。\"HemovedhislefthandoutintotheairasifheweresuggestingaDIMINUENDOtoanorchestra。 V BYthefirstofFebruaryTheahadbeeninChicagoal— mostfourmonths,andshedidnotknowmuchmoreaboutthecitythanifshehadneverquittedMoonstone。 Shewas,asHarsanyisaid,incurious。Herworktookmostofhertime,andshefoundthatshehadtosleepagooddeal。Ithadneverbeforebeensohardtogetupinthemorning。Shehadthebotherofcaringforherroom,andshehadtobuildherfireandbringuphercoal。HerroutinewasfrequentlyinterruptedbyamessagefromMr。Larsensummoninghertosingatafuneral。Everyfuneraltookhalfaday,andthetimehadtobemadeup。WhenMrs。 Harsanyiaskedherifitdidnotdepresshertosingatfu— nerals,sherepliedthatshe\"hadbeenbroughtuptogotofuneralsanddidn’tmind。\" Theaneverwentintoshopsunlessshehadto,andshefeltnointerestinthem。Indeed,sheshunnedthem,asplaceswhereonewassuretobepartedfromone’smoneyinsomeway。Shewasnervousaboutcountingherchange,andshecouldnotaccustomherselftohavingherpurchasessenttoheraddress。Shefeltmuchsaferwithherbundlesunderherarm。 DuringthisfirstwinterTheagotnocityconsciousness。 Chicagowassimplyawildernessthroughwhichonehadtofindone’sway。Shefeltnointerestinthegeneralbrisknessandzestofthecrowds。Thecrashandscrambleofthatbig,rich,appetentWesterncityshedidnottakeinatall,excepttonoticethatthenoiseofthedraysandstreet—carstiredher。Thebrilliantwindowdisplays,thesplendidfursandstuffs,thegorgeousflower—shops,thegaycandy—shops,shescarcelynoticed。AtChristmas—timeshedidfeelsomecuriosityaboutthetoy—stores,andshewishedsheheld Thor’slittlemittenedfistinherhandasshestoodbeforethewindows。Thejewelers’windows,too,hadastrongattractionforher——shehadalwayslikedbrightstones。 Whenshewentintothecitysheusedtobravethebitinglakewindsandstandgazinginatthedisplaysofdiamondsandpearlsandemeralds;thetiarasandnecklacesandear— rings,onwhitevelvet。Theseseemedverywellworthwhiletoher,thingsworthcoveting。 Mrs。LorchandMrs。AndersenoftentoldeachotheritwasstrangethatMissKronborghadsolittleinitiativeabout\"visitingpointsofinterest。\"WhenTheacametolivewiththemshehadexpressedawishtoseetwoplaces:MontgomeryWardandCompany’sbigmail—orderstore,andthepacking—houses,towhichallthehogsandcattlethatwentthroughMoonstonewerebound。OneofMrs。Lorch’slodgersworkedinapacking—house,andMrs。AndersenbroughtTheawordthatshehadspokentoMr。EckmanandhewouldgladlytakehertoPacking— town。EckmanwasatoughishyoungSwede,andhethoughtitwouldbesomethingofalarktotakeaprettygirlthroughtheslaughter—houses。Buthewasdisap— pointed。Theaneithergrewfaintnorclungtothearmhekeptofferingher。Sheaskedinnumerablequestionsandwasimpatientbecauseheknewsolittleofwhatwasgoingonoutsideofhisowndepartment。Whentheygotoffthestreet—carandwalkedbacktoMrs。Lorch’shouseinthedusk,Eckmanputherhandinhisovercoatpocket——shehadnomuff——andkeptsqueezingitardentlyuntilshesaid,\"Don’tdothat;myringcutsme。\"Thatnighthetoldhisroommatethathe\"couldhavekissedheraseasyasrollingoffalog,butshewasn’tworththetrouble。\"AsforThea,shehadenjoyedtheafternoonverymuch,andwroteherfatherabriefbutclearaccountofwhatshehadseen。 OnenightatsupperMrs。Andersenwastalkingabouttheexhibitofstudents’workshehadseenattheArtIn— stitutethatafternoon。Severalofherfriendshadsketchesintheexhibit。Thea,whoalwaysfeltthatshewasbe— hindhandincourtesytoMrs。Andersen,thoughtthatherewasanopportunitytoshowinterestwithoutcommittingherselftoanything。\"Whereisthat,theInstitute?\"sheaskedabsently。 Mrs。Andersenclaspedhernapkininbothhands。\"TheArtInstitute?OurbeautifulArtInstituteonMichiganAvenue?Doyoumeantosayyouhavenevervisitedit?\" \"Oh,isittheplacewiththebiglionsoutinfront?I remember;IsawitwhenIwenttoMontgomeryWard’s。 Yes,Ithoughtthelionswerebeautiful。\" \"Butthepictures!Didn’tyouvisitthegalleries?\" \"No。Thesignoutsidesaiditwasapay—day。I’veal— waysmeanttogoback,butIhaven’thappenedtobedownthatwaysince。\" Mrs。LorchandMrs。Andersenlookedateachother。 Theoldmotherspoke,fixinghershininglittleeyesuponTheaacrossthetable。\"Ah,butMissKronborg,thereareoldmasters!Oh,manyofthem,suchasyoucouldnotseeanywhereoutofEurope。\" \"AndCorots,\"breathedMrs。Andersen,tiltingherheadfeelingly。\"SuchexamplesoftheBarbizonschool!\" ThiswasmeaninglesstoThea,whodidnotreadtheartcolumnsoftheSundayINTER—OCEANasMrs。Andersendid。 \"Oh,I’mgoingtheresomeday,\"shereassuredthem。 \"Iliketolookatoilpaintings。\" OnebleakdayinFebruary,whenthewindwasblow— ingcloudsofdirtlikeaMoonstonesandstorm,dirtthatfilledyoureyesandearsandmouth,TheafoughtherwayacrosstheunprotectedspaceinfrontoftheArtInstituteandintothedoorsofthebuilding。Shedidnotcomeoutagainuntiltheclosinghour。Inthestreet—car,onthelongcoldridehome,whileshesatstaringatthewaistcoatbut— tonsofafatstrap—hanger,shehadaseriousreckoningwithherself。Sheseldomthoughtaboutherwayoflife,about whatsheoughtoroughtnottodo;usuallytherewasbutoneobviousandimportantthingtobedone。Butthatafternoonsheremonstratedwithherselfseverely。Shetoldherselfthatshewasmissingagreatdeal;thatsheoughttobemorewillingtotakeadviceandtogotoseethings。ShewassorrythatshehadletmonthspasswithoutgoingtotheArtInstitute。Afterthisshewouldgoonceaweek。 TheInstituteproved,indeed,aplaceofretreat,asthesandhillsortheKohlers’gardenusedtobe;aplacewhereshecouldforgetMrs。Andersen’stiresomeoverturesoffriendship,thestoutcontraltointhechoirwhomshesounreasonablyhated,andeven,foralittlewhile,thetormentofherwork。Thatbuildingwasaplaceinwhichshecouldrelaxandplay,andshecouldhardlyeverplaynow。Onthewhole,shespentmoretimewiththecaststhanwiththepictures。Theywereatoncemoresimpleandmoreperplexing;andsomewaytheyseemedmoreimportant,hardertooverlook。Itneveroccurredtohertobuyacatalogue,soshecalledmostofthecastsbynamesshemadeupforthem。Someofthemsheknew;theDyingGladiatorshehadreadaboutin\"ChildeHarold\"almostaslongagoasshecouldremember;hewasstronglyas— sociatedwithDr。Archieandchildishillnesses。TheVenusdiMilopuzzledher;shecouldnotseewhypeoplethoughthersobeautiful。ShetoldherselfoverandoverthatshedidnotthinktheApolloBelvedere\"atallhandsome。\" Betterthananythingelseshelikedagreatequestrianstatueofanevil,cruel—lookinggeneralwithanunpro— nounceablename。Sheusedtowalkroundandroundthisterriblemanandhisterriblehorse,frowningathim,brood— inguponhim,asifshehadtomakesomemomentousde— cisionabouthim。 Thecasts,whenshelingeredlongamongthem,alwaysmadehergloomy。Itwaswithalighteningoftheheart,afeelingofthrowingofftheoldmiseriesandoldsorrowsoftheworld,thatsheranupthewidestaircasetothepic— tures。Thereshelikedbesttheonesthattoldstories。 TherewasapaintingbyGeromecalled\"ThePasha’sGrief\"whichalwaysmadeherwishforGunnerandAxel。 ThePashawasseatedonarug,besideagreencandleal— mostasbigasatelegraphpole,andbeforehimwasstretchedhisdeadtiger,asplendidbeast,andtherewerepinkrosesscatteredabouthim。Sheloved,too,apictureofsomeboysbringinginanewborncalfonalitter,thecowwalkingbesideitandlickingit。TheCorotwhichhungnexttothispaintingshedidnotlikeordislike;sheneversawit。 Butinthatsameroomtherewasapicture——oh,thatwasthethingsheranupstairssofasttosee!Thatwasherpicture。Sheimaginedthatnobodycaredforitbutherself,andthatitwaitedforher。Thatwasapicturein— deed。Shelikedeventhenameofit,\"TheSongoftheLark。\"Theflatcountry,theearlymorninglight,thewetfields,thelookinthegirl’sheavyface——well,theywereallhers,anyhow,whateverwasthere。Shetoldherselfthatthatpicturewas\"right。\"Justwhatshemeantbythis,itwouldtakeacleverpersontoexplain。Buttoherthewordcoveredthealmostboundlesssatisfactionshefeltwhenshelookedatthepicture。 BeforeTheahadanyideahowfasttheweekswerefly— ing,beforeMr。Larsen’s\"permanent\"sopranohadre— turnedtoherduties,springcame;windy,dusty,strident,shrill;aseasonalmostmoreviolentinChicagothanthewinterfromwhichitreleasesone,ortheheattowhichiteventuallydeliversone。OnesunnymorningtheappletreesinMrs。Lorch’sbackyardburstintobloom,andforthefirsttimeinmonthsTheadressedwithoutbuildingafire。Themorningshonelikeaholiday,andforheritwastobeaholiday。Therewasintheairthatsudden,treacher— oussoftnesswhichmakesthePoleswhoworkinthepack— ing—housesgetdrunk。Atsuchtimesbeautyisnecessary,andinPackingtownthereisnoplacetogetitexceptatthe saloons,whereonecanbuyforafewhourstheillusionofcomfort,hope,love,——whateveronemostlongsfor。 HarsanyihadgivenTheaaticketforthesymphonyconcertthatafternoon,andwhenshelookedoutatthewhiteappletreesherdoubtsastowhethersheoughttogovanishedatonce。Shewouldmakeherworklightthatmorning,shetoldherself。Shewouldgototheconcertfullofenergy。Whenshesetoff,afterdinner,Mrs。Lorch,whoknewChicagoweather,prevaileduponhertotakehercape。Theoldladysaidthatsuchsuddenmildness,soearlyinApril,presagedasharpreturnofwinter,andshewasanxiousaboutherappletrees。 Theconcertbeganattwo—thirty,andTheawasinherseatintheAuditoriumattenminutesaftertwo——afineseatinthefirstrowofthebalcony,ontheside,whereshecouldseethehouseaswellastheorchestra。Shehadbeentosofewconcertsthatthegreathouse,thecrowdofpeople,andthelights,allhadastimulatingeffect。Shewassurprisedtoseesomanymenintheaudience,andwonderedhowtheycouldleavetheirbusinessintheafter— noon。DuringthefirstnumberTheawassomuchinter— estedintheorchestraitself,inthemen,theinstruments,thevolumeofsound,thatshepaidlittleattentiontowhattheywereplaying。Herexcitementimpairedherpoweroflistening。Shekeptsayingtoherself,\"NowImuststopthisfoolishnessandlisten;Imayneverhearthisagain\";buthermindwaslikeaglassthatishardtofocus。Shewasnotreadytolistenuntilthesecondnum— ber,Dvorak’sSymphonyinEminor,calledonthepro— gramme,\"FromtheNewWorld。\"Thefirstthemehadscarcelybeengivenoutwhenhermindbecameclear;in— stantcomposurefelluponher,andwithitcamethepowerofconcentration。Thiswasmusicshecouldunderstand,musicfromtheNewWorldindeed!Strangehow,asthefirstmovementwenton,itbroughtbacktoherthathightablelandaboveLaramie;thegrass—grownwagon trails,thefar—awaypeaksofthesnowyrange,thewindandtheeagles,thatoldmanandthefirsttelegraphmessage。 Whenthefirstmovementended,Thea’shandsandfeetwerecoldasice。Shewastoomuchexcitedtoknowany— thingexceptthatshewantedsomethingdesperately,andwhentheEnglishhornsgaveoutthethemeoftheLargo,sheknewthatwhatshewantedwasexactlythat。Herewerethesandhills,thegrasshoppersandlocusts,allthethingsthatwakenedandchirpedintheearlymorning; thereachingandreachingofhighplains,theimmeas— urableyearningofallflatlands。Therewashomeinit,too;firstmemories,firstmorningslongago;theamaze— mentofanewsoulinanewworld;asoulnewandyetold,thathaddreamedsomethingdespairing,somethingglori— ous,inthedarkbeforeitwasborn;asoulobsessedbywhatitdidnotknow,underthecloudofapastitcouldnotre— call。 IfTheahadhadmuchexperienceinconcert—going,andhadknownherowncapacity,shewouldhaveleftthehallwhenthesymphonywasover。Butshesatstill,scarcelyknowingwhereshewas,becausehermindhadbeenfarawayandhadnotyetcomebacktoher。Shewasstartledwhentheorchestrabegantoplayagain——theentryofthegodsintoWalhalla。Shehearditaspeoplehearthingsintheirsleep。SheknewscarcelyanythingabouttheWagneroperas。Shehadavagueideathat\"Rhinegold\"wasaboutthestrifebetweengodsandmen; shehadreadsomethingaboutitinMr。Haweis’sbooklongago。Tootiredtofollowtheorchestrawithmuchunder— standing,shecroucheddowninherseatandclosedhereyes。Thecold,statelymeasuresoftheWalhallamusicrangout,faraway;therainbowbridgethrobbedoutintotheair,underitthewailingoftheRhinedaughtersandthesingingoftheRhine。ButTheawassunkintwilight; itwasallgoingoninanotherworld。Soithappenedthatwithadull,almostlistlessearsheheardforthefirsttime thattroubledmusic,ever—darkening,ever—brightening,whichwastoflowthroughsomanyyearsofherlife。 WhenTheaemergedfromtheconcerthall,Mrs。Lorch’spredictionshadbeenfulfilled。AfuriousgalewasbeatingoverthecityfromLakeMichigan。Thestreetswerefullofcold,hurrying,angrypeople,runningforstreet—carsandbarkingateachother。Thesunwassettinginaclear,windysky,thatflamedwithredasiftherewereagreatfiresomewhereontheedgeofthecity。ForalmostthefirsttimeTheawasconsciousofthecityitself,ofthecon— gestionoflifeallabouther,ofthebrutalityandpowerofthosestreamsthatflowedinthestreets,threateningtodriveoneunder。Peoplejostledher,ranintoher,pokedherasidewiththeirelbows,utteringangryexclamations。 Shegotonthewrongcarandwasroughlyejectedbytheconductoratawindycorner,infrontofasaloon。Shestoodtheredazedandshivering。Thecarspassed,screamingastheyroundedcurves,buteithertheywerefulltothedoors,orwereboundforplaceswhereshedidnotwanttogo。 Herhandsweresocoldthatshetookoffhertightkidgloves。Thestreetlightsbegantogleaminthedusk。A youngmancameoutofthesaloonandstoodeyeingherquestioninglywhilehelitacigarette。\"Lookingforafriendto—night?\"heasked。Theadrewupthecollarofhercapeandwalkedonafewpaces。Theyoungmanshruggedhisshouldersanddriftedaway。 Theacamebacktothecornerandstoodthereirreso— lutely。Anoldmanapproachedher。He,too,seemedtobewaitingforacar。Heworeanovercoatwithablackfurcollar,hisgraymustachewaswaxedintolittlepoints,andhiseyeswerewatery。Hekeptthrustinghisfaceupnearhers。Herhatblewoffandheranafterit——astiff,pitifulskiphehad——andbroughtitbacktoher。Then,whileshewaspinningherhaton,hercapeblewup,andhehelditdownforher,lookingatherintently。Hisfaceworkedasifheweregoingtocryorwerefrightened。Heleaned overandwhisperedsomethingtoher。Itstruckherascuriousthathewasreallyquitetimid,likeanoldbeggar。 \"Oh,letmeALONE!\"shecriedmiserablybetweenherteeth。 Hevanished,disappearedliketheDevilinaplay。Butinthemeantimesomethinghadgotawayfromher;shecouldnotrememberhowtheviolinscameinafterthehorns,justthere。Whenhercapeblewup,perhaps——Whydidthesementormenther?Acloudofdustblewinherfaceandblindedher。Therewassomepowerabroadintheworldbentupontakingawayfromherthatfeelingwithwhichshehadcomeoutoftheconcerthall。Everythingseemedtosweepdownonhertotearitoutfromunderhercape。Ifonehadthat,theworldbecameone’senemy; people,buildings,wagons,cars,rushedatonetocrushitunder,tomakeoneletgoofit。Theaglaredroundheratthecrowds,theugly,sprawlingstreets,thelonglinesoflights,andshewasnotcryingnow。HereyeswerebrighterthanevenHarsanyihadeverseenthem。Allthesethingsandpeoplewerenolongerremoteandnegli— gible;theyhadtobemet,theywerelinedupagainsther,theyweretheretotakesomethingfromher。Verywell; theyshouldneverhaveit。Theymighttramplehertodeath,buttheyshouldneverhaveit。Aslongasshelivedthatecstasywasgoingtobehers。Shewouldliveforit,workforit,dieforit;butshewasgoingtohaveit,timeaftertime,heightafterheight。Shecouldhearthecrashoftheorchestraagain,andsheroseonthebrasses。Shewouldhaveit,whatthetrumpetsweresinging!Shewouldhaveit,haveit,——it!Undertheoldcapeshepressedherhandsuponherheavingbosom,thatwasalittlegirl’snolonger。 VI ONEafternooninApril,TheodoreThomas,thecon— ductoroftheChicagoSymphonyOrchestra,hadturnedouthisdesklightandwasabouttoleavehisofficeintheAuditoriumBuilding,whenHarsanyiappearedinthedoorway。Theconductorwelcomedhimwithaheartyhand—gripandthrewofftheovercoathehadjustputon。 HepushedHarsanyiintoachairandsatdownathisbur— deneddesk,pointingtothepilesofpapersandrailwayfoldersuponit。 \"Anothertour,cleartothecoast。Thistravelingisthepartofmyworkthatgrindsme,Andor。Youknowwhatitmeans:badfood,dirt,noise,exhaustionforthemenandforme。I’mnotsoyoungasIoncewas。It’stimeIquitthehighway。Thisisthelasttour,Iswear!\" \"ThenI’msorryforthe`highway。’IrememberwhenI firstheardyouinPittsburg,longago。Itwasalife—lineyouthrewme。It’saboutoneofthepeoplealongyourhigh— waythatI’vecometoseeyou。WhomdoyouconsiderthebestteacherforvoiceinChicago?\" Mr。Thomasfrownedandpulledhisheavymustache。 \"Letmesee;IsupposeonthewholeMadisonBowersisthebest。He’sintelligent,andhehadgoodtraining。I don’tlikehim。\" Harsanyinodded。\"Ithoughttherewasnooneelse。 Idon’tlikehim,either,soIhesitated。ButIsupposehemustdo,forthepresent。\" \"Haveyoufoundanythingpromising?Oneofyourownstudents?\" \"Yes,sir。AyoungSwedishgirlfromsomewhereinColorado。Sheisverytalented,andsheseemstometohavearemarkablevoice。\" \"Highvoice?\" \"Ithinkitwillbe;thoughherlowvoicehasabeauti— fulquality,veryindividual。Shehashadnoinstructioninvoiceatall,andIshrinkfromhandingherovertoany— body;herowninstinctaboutithasbeensogood。Itisoneofthosevoicesthatmanagesitselfeasily,withoutthinningasitgoesup;goodbreathingandperfectrelaxa— tion。Butshemusthaveateacher,ofcourse。Thereisabreakinthemiddlevoice,sothatthevoicedoesnotallworktogether;anunevenness。\" Thomaslookedup。\"So?Curious;thatcleftoftenhappenswiththeSwedes。Someoftheirbestsingershavehadit。Italwaysremindsmeofthespaceyousooftenseebetweentheirfrontteeth。Isshestrongphysically?\" Harsanyi’seyeflashed。Heliftedhishandbeforehimandclenchedit。\"Likeahorse,likeatree!EverytimeIgiveheralesson,Iloseapound。Shegoesafterwhatshewants。\" \"Intelligent,yousay?Musicallyintelligent?\" \"Yes;butnocultivationwhatever。Shecametomelikeafineyoungsavage,abookwithnothingwritteninit。 ThatiswhyIfeeltheresponsibilityofdirectingher。\" Harsanyipausedandcrushedhissoftgrayhatoverhisknee。\"Shewouldinterestyou,Mr。Thomas,\"headdedslowly。\"Shehasaquality——veryindividual。\" \"Yes;theScandinaviansareapttohavethat,too。Shecan’tgotoGermany,Isuppose?\" \"Notnow,atanyrate。Sheispoor。\" Thomasfrownedagain\"Idon’tthinkBowersareallyfirst—rateman。He’stoopettytobereallyfirst—rate;inhisnature,Imean。ButIdaresayhe’sthebestyoucando,ifyoucan’tgivehertimeenoughyourself。\" Harsanyiwavedhishand。\"Oh,thetimeisnothing——shemayhaveallshewants。ButIcannotteachhertosing。\" \"Mightnotcomeamissifyoumadeamusicianofher,however,\"saidMr。Thomasdryly。 \"Ihavedonemybest。ButIcanonlyplaywithavoice,andthisisnotavoicetobeplayedwith。Ithinkshewillbeamusician,whateverhappens。Sheisnotquick,butsheissolid,real;notliketheseothers。Mywifesaysthatwiththatgirloneswallowdoesnotmakeasummer。\" Mr。Thomaslaughed。\"TellMrs。Harsanyithatherremarkconveyssomethingtome。Don’tletyourselfgettoomuchinterested。Voicesaresooftendisappointing; especiallywomen’svoices。Somuchchanceaboutit,somanyfactors。\" \"Perhapsthatiswhytheyinterestone。Alltheintelli— genceandtalentintheworldcan’tmakeasinger。Thevoiceisawildthing。Itcan’tbebredincaptivity。Itisasport,likethesilverfox。Ithappens。\" Mr。ThomassmiledintoHarsanyi’sgleamingeye。 \"Whyhaven’tyoubroughthertosingforme?\" \"I’vebeentemptedto,butIknewyouweredriventodeath,withthistourconfrontingyou。\" \"Oh,Icanalwaysfindtimetolistentoagirlwhohasavoice,ifshemeansbusiness。I’msorryI’mleavingsosoon。IcouldadviseyoubetterifIhadheardher。Icansometimesgiveasingersuggestions。I’veworkedsomuchwiththem。\" \"You’retheonlyconductorIknowwhoisnotsnobbishaboutsingers。\"Harsanyispokewarmly。 \"Dearme,whyshouldIbe?They’velearnedfromme,andI’velearnedfromthem。\"Astheyrose,Thomastooktheyoungermanaffectionatelybythearm。\"Tellmeaboutthatwifeofyours。Isshewell,andaslovelyasever? Andsuchfinechildren!Cometoseemeoftener,whenIgetback。Imissitwhenyoudon’t。\" ThetwomenlefttheAuditoriumBuildingtogether。 Harsanyiwalkedhome。EvenashorttalkwithThomasalwaysstimulatedhim。AshewalkedhewasrecallinganeveningtheyoncespenttogetherinCincinnati。 HarsanyiwasthesoloistatoneofThomas’sconcerts there,andaftertheperformancetheconductorhadtakenhimofftoaRATHSKELLERwheretherewasexcellentGermancooking,andwheretheproprietorsawtoitthatThomashadthebestwinesprocurable。ThomashadbeenworkingwiththegreatchorusoftheFestivalAssociationandwasspeakingofitwithenthusiasmwhenHarsanyiaskedhimhowitwasthathewasabletofeelsuchaninterestinchoraldirectingandinvoicesgenerally。Thomasseldomspokeofhisyouthorhisearlystruggles,butthatnightheturnedbackthepagesandtoldHarsanyialongstory。 HesaidhehadspentthesummerofhisfifteenthyearwanderingaboutaloneintheSouth,givingviolincon— certsinlittletowns。Hetraveledonhorseback。Whenhecameintoatown,hewentaboutalldaytackinguppostersannouncinghisconcertintheevening。Beforetheconcert,hestoodatthedoortakingintheadmissionmoneyuntilhisaudiencehadarrived,andthenhewentontheplatformandplayed。Itwasalazy,hand—to—mouthex— istence,andThomassaidhemusthavegottolikethateasywayoflivingandtherelaxingSouthernatmosphere。 Atanyrate,whenhegotbacktoNewYorkinthefall,hewasrathertorpid;perhapshehadbeengrowingtoofast。 Fromthisadolescentdrowsinesstheladwasawakenedbytwovoices,bytwowomenwhosanginNewYorkin1851,——JennyLindandHenriettaSontag。Theywerethefirstgreatartistshehadeverheard,andheneverforgothisdebttothem。 Ashesaid,\"Itwasnotvoiceandexecutionalone。Therewasagreatnessaboutthem。Theyweregreatwomen,greatartists。Theyopenedanewworldtome。\"Nightafternighthewenttohearthem,strivingtoreproducethequalityoftheirtoneuponhisviolin。Fromthattimehisideaaboutstringswascompletelychanged,andonhisviolinhetriedalwaysforthesinging,vibratingtone,in— steadoftheloudandsomewhatharshtonethenprevalentamongeventhebestGermanviolinists。Inlateryearshe oftenadvisedvioliniststostudysinging,andsingerstostudyviolin。HetoldHarsanyithathegothisfirstcon— ceptionoftonequalityfromJennyLind。 \"But,ofcourse,\"headded,\"thegreatthingIgotfromLindandSontagwastheindefinite,notthedefinite,thing。 Foranimpressionableboy,theirinspirationwasincalcu— lable。TheygavememyfirstfeelingfortheItalianstyle——butIcouldneversayhowmuchtheygaveme。Atthatage,suchinfluencesareactuallycreative。Ialwaysthinkofmyartisticconsciousnessasbeginningthen。\" AllhislifeThomasdidhisbesttorepaywhathefeltheowedtothesinger’sart。Nomancouldgetsuchsingingfromchoruses,andnomanworkedhardertoraisethestandardofsinginginschoolsandchurchesandchoralsocieties。 VII AllthroughthelessonTheahadfeltthatHarsanyiwasrestlessandabstracted。Beforethehourwasover,hepushedbackhischairandsaidresolutely,\"Iamnotinthemood,MissKronborg。Ihavesomethingonmymind,andImusttalktoyou。Whendoyouintendtogohome?\" Theaturnedtohiminsurprise。\"ThefirstofJune,about。Mr。Larsenwillnotneedmeafterthat,andIhavenotmuchmoneyahead。Ishallworkhardthissummer,though。\"