He bowed modestly and with a naIf awkwardness which was very pathetic.  The Italian public, just as wild in its enthusiasm as it is merciless in its disapproval, rose as one man with a bound and cheered vociferously.  But when the Intermezzo was played there was a burst of thundering applause, clapping of hands, and shouts of enthusiasm.  I never heard anything like it.

Mascagni was called at least twenty times before the curtain.  Any other composer would have beamed all over with joy and pride at such an ovation, but Mascagni only looked shy and bewildered.  The tears rolled down my cheeks as I looked at the poor young fellow (he is only twenty years old), who probably that very morning was wondering how he could provide food for his wife and baby.  Fancy what his emotions must have been to wake up so unexpectedly to glory and success!

[Illustration:  FRANCESCO CRISPI Prime Minister of Italy.  From a photograph taken in 1887.]

Mascagni, his wife, and his baby lived in a garret, and had not money enough to buy even a candle.  The only instrument he had when he wrote the opera was an accordion.  His little wife is nineteen, and the baby is one year old.

Italy thought it possessed another Verdi.  The next day after his triumph Leghorn (his birthplace) gave him the citizenship of the town.  Sonsogni handed him a large sum of money (the promised prize), and Mascagni had orders to begin on another opera.  Will that be as good?  One says that necessity is the mother of invention; it seems that in this case poverty was the father of “Cavalleria Rusticana.”

1890.

Dear ——­,—­Johan is named to Stockholm, and we must leave Rome. 
Needless to say that I am broken-hearted to leave Italy and the Queen.

MILAN, September 16.

Dear ——­,—­We went yesterday to bid good-by to their Majesties, who are at Monza, and for J. to present his letters of rappel.

We arrived in time for luncheon; there were no other guests.

After luncheon we sat out under the trees by the side of the pretty lake; there was an awning put there, and we stayed all the afternoon in the shade of the large trees which bordered the lake.  The King was very gay; he wanted every one to row out in the small boats that were there; then he and the Prince took another boat and tried to collide.  The King pretended that he could not row, and made such hopeless attempts that all those in the other boats were splashed with water.

On taking leave of her Majesty, which was done with a great deal of weeping on my part, she handed me a beautiful sapphire-and-diamond brooch and a very large photograph signed by her dear hand en souvenir.  The King gave Johan his photograph and the decoration of la couronne d’ltalie.  The day passed only too quickly.  I cannot tell you how miserable I was to take leave of their Majesties, who had always been so kind and gracious to me.