"Yes, 'Carmen' has been one of my best successes."
In conclusion, Colonel Mapleson said:—
"I am nervous as to the future, as nearly every coming artist has the misfortune to be American."
"Misfortune, colonel?"
"Yes. I use the word advisedly. Albani, Valleria, Adini, Van Zandt and Durand, one of the best dramatic prima donne on the stage, who, by the way, has gone to sing at the Grand Opera in Paris instead of coming here, and Emma Novada, a new prima—Candidus, the tenor, too; all the coming talent is American."
The salaries paid prima donne are very high. As far back as 1870, Mme. Patti was paid $50,000 a year, besides being given numerous presents by the Emperor of Russia. Last winter Mr. Henry E. Abbey paid Mme. Patti at the rate of eight times the imperial salary, giving the diva $4,000 for each concert she sang in, and she sang two in each week. Albani was paid at the same rate as Patti in Russia. Nilsson, before her retirement, got $1,000 a night in the provinces. Now, that she is to return to the stage and come to America, she will be paid probably as handsomely as Patti was. Nearly all the foreign singers and artists have London agents through whom American impresarios carry on their negotiations. Gye is one of these agents and H. C. Jarrett, of London, who accompanied Bernhardt, as her agent, and who represents Nilsson, is another.
Singers and dramatic people, too, are fond of diamonds. They have thousands of dollars' worth of them; still they believe in investing in them because they represent so much value in such little space. Sarah Bernhardt had a wonderful wealth of these precious stones, and Neilson was well provided with them. B. Spyer, the St. Louis diamond merchant, with whom theatrical and operatic people deal almost exclusively, and who enjoys the patronage of nearly all foreign artists who visit this country, told me a very funny story about the first diamond he sold Christine Nilsson. He had a splendid stone worth $4,000, and taking it with him he went up to the Lindell Hotel, and knocking at Nilsson's door was told to come in. He opened the door and there on a sofa the great songstress was reclining covered with an old calico gown. He showed her the stone, but she did not want to buy it and would not. Nilsson having left the room for a while, Mr. Spyer approached the dressing-maid, who was an old lady, and showing her a handsome diamond ring told her he would give it to her if she used her influence to induce her mistress to buy the $4,000 diamond. She said she would, and while they were talking in walked a gray-haired old gentleman in common clothes who looked like a servant, and whom Mr. Spyer engaged in conversation. He told the old man of his scheme with the dressing-maid, when the latter said, "Tut, tut, she can do nothing for you; she's got no influence."
"Then can you do anything?" Mr. Spyer asked. "I'll make it all right if you help me to sell the Madame that stone."
"Well," said the old gentleman, "I want a pair of ear-rings for my daughters, who are in England."
"All right" was the diamond broker's answer; "you use your influence and if I make the sale you shall have the ear-rings."