"To secure my father's consent was another thing. He was a man of the people, proud of his independence, proud of his honest character, proud of his trade. 'A singer in opera,' he said. 'It is a beggar's trade. So you want to be a poor underling in a miserable chorus, a vagabond without a fixed home? Not with my consent'
"At last I began to sing small parts in the local theaters. The first part for which I was cast was the notary in 'La Somnambula.' I had a severe attack of stage fright. In fact, I could hardly utter a note. The audience jeered and shouted. From the crowded galleries came the cry: 'He sings like a hunchback with his shoulders in his throat!'
"'You may laugh now,' I shouted, 'but it will be my turn to laugh next, and he who laughs last laughs best.'
"But it was a long time before I laughed in Parma. Naturally enough, this little altercation ended my engagement. At that time there chanced to be in Parma a Russian manager looking for artists to complete an operatic company. I signed a contract with him for a five years' tour of the Russian provinces. My compensation was to be four lire—about three shillings—a day.
"The engagement was profitable, but a small revolution broke out, the theater was closed, and the manager disappeared. I was left without money, my luggage was seized, and I was turned out into the street without a penny or a change of clothes. The kindness of a stray acquaintance—I do not think I ever knew his name—procured me a garret in a wretched part of the town. The second day I sold my coat to a Jew peddler, and I dined on that coat for two days. I was standing in my shirt sleeves in the street when I chanced to see a notary whom I knew passing on the other side. I rushed over and put my case to him. Through his efforts a concert was arranged for my benefit.
"What had I gained in my wanderings?
"Neither fame nor fortune. I had worked harder
