Possibly the crowded aspect of the house at some performances at which I sang the following autumn, and which he attended, modified his opinion, for he was effusive in compliments and photographs, and the slight cloud blew over without further parley.
Afterward I was to be consoled by as gratifying a success as my heart could wish as the "Goose Girl." December 28, 1910, saw the première of the charming "Königskinder," which enchanted the audience by reason of its lovely simplicity and the introduction of live geese—no less!
Professor Humperdinck was not a little taken aback when I first mentioned that I intended having these live geese which were, according to my plan, to move naturally and unconfined about the stage. Mr. Hertz, the conductor, was much perturbed and objected to the noise and confusion they might create; but Mr. Gatti was resigned to my whim and gave assent. So with the help of our technical director and the "boys" behind the stage I had as pretty a flock of birds as one could find on any farm. When the curtain rose upon that idyllic forest scene, with the goose girl in the grass, the geese unconcernedly picking their way about, now and again spreading snowy wings, unafraid, the house was simply delighted and applauded long and vigorously. Not to be overlooked was the sympathetic appeal of the children's beloved Fiddler, in the person of Goritz. This operatic fairy-tale held an enviable place in the regular repertoire for three years, and was one of my happiest successes.
Following this I was to create a work of a type quite different from any other I had ever essayed. Had it not been for Toscanini's urging I should hardly have chosen "Ariane et Barbe Bleue" as a medium for my ambitions. While the production was highly interesting, I cannot say that I am much in sympathy with the vague outlines of the modern French lyric heroines; "Mélisande" and "Ariane" I think can be better entrusted to artists of a less positive type.
CHAPTER XIV
THE DAYS I NOW ENJOY
The season of 1913-14 came very near proving disastrous for me. After repeated danger signals, at last overtaxed Nature took her revenge. I was unable to cope successfully with a bad attack of bronchitis, which made me lose the opening night. Some days afterward, still ill, I was obstinate enough to insist on a "Madame Butterfly" performance, and I collapsed completely in a "Faust" performance later that same week.
I shall never forget my state of mind. Despair overcame me. The awful nightmare had come to pass. I should probably never sing again! Then there flashed through my mind: How should I endure this enforced inactivity? Daily, hourly, I waited, and watched, and coaxed a betterment of my physical condition, which, after all, was at the bottom of my minor vocal troubles. Outside, a generous and affectionate public had not forgotten me, while Mr. Gatti was most kind and patient with this fretful songbird.
