The object of the visit was briefly explained, and Sig. Cardella rattled off his answers in a ready and intelligible manner, the sweet Italian accents falling from his tongue with the same rapidity and precision that he twinkled his feet in the ballet when occasion required. He said he had made his first appearance in the ballet twenty years before, when he was twenty years of age. He had been put in training, like other children, at the age of twelve years, in the Theatre La Scala—the government school—which has given the world so many famous dancers. Here he remained eight years.
"Children," said Cardella, "are admitted to this school as early as ten years and as late as twelve, and there is a regular routine of study that cannot be finished in less than eight years. It is long and arduous, and especially difficult when it is understood that pupils in this country arrive at stage honors in an immensely less time, in fact in as many months as we are required to put in years of study in the old country."
"I suppose La Scala is under the tuition of the very best masters," said I.
"Oh yes, indeed," responded the maitre de ballet, assuringly; "my first teacher was the celebrated Blozis, and after him Ousse, both French, and both great masters."
"But old?"
DONNA JULIAS' EYES.
"Yes, old; but they had their stage triumphs, and the recollection of these kept their limbs strong and their joints almost as supple as they had been in their younger years, when they themselves went forth from La Scala as premieres, to win the applause of the public."
"Boys and girls are admitted to La Scala?"