208.—PECULIAR ENGLISH.
Not every singer, even though he be able to excite the plaudits of thousands by his song language, can succeed in making a hit by spoken language. The well-known singer, Brignoli, seemed to be successful in both lines, as witness the following. It became necessary, one evening, for some one to apologize for the nonappearance of the prima donna, as she was suffering from a sore throat. The manager sent Brignoli before the curtain to make the necessary excuses. So the tenor went forward and said:—
"Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to zay zat Madame N ees a leetle hoarse zees evening."
Peals of laughter greeted this announcement; the tenor looked puzzled, and, thinking the people had misunderstood him, he roared out:—
"I zay zat Madame N ees a leetle hoarse zees evening!"
This was greeted by another explosion of mirth; then, to cap this lucid explanation, some one in the gallery roared out, "Then if she is a little horse why not trot her out?" That explained to the puzzled tenor the cause of the laughter and he was then able to join in the fun.
Another instance of a musician's English failing him at a crucial moment was when, some years ago, Paderewski played in Boston with the Nikisch orchestra. One of the orchestral soloists became very much excited at the private rehearsal, and stood up and made a little speech to the orchestra, fairly glowing with patriotic pride: "You see, Paderewski—my countryman—a Pole—he is like Cæsar—'He came, he saw, he enquired!'"