sung before the curtain by Tonio to that last despairing outcry of Canio ("La commedia e finita"), upon which the curtain falls.  The prominent numbers are the prologue already referred to; Nedda’s beautiful cavatina in the second scene ("O, che volo d’angello"); her duet with Silvio in the third scene ("E allor perche"); the passionate declamation of Canio at the close of the first act ("Recitur! mentre preso dal delirio"); the serenade of Beppe in the second act ("O Colombino, il tenero"); and the graceful dance-music which plays so singular a part in this fierce struggle of the passions, which forms the motive of the closing scenes.

MASCAGNI.

Pietro Mascagni, who leaped into fame at a single bound, was born at Leghorn, Dec. 7, 1863.  His father was a baker, and had planned for his son a career in the legal profession; but, as often happens, fate ordered otherwise.  His tastes were distinctly musical, and his determination to study music was encouraged by Signor Bianchi, a singing teacher, who recognized his talent.  For a time he took lessons, unknown to his father, of Soffredini, but when it was discovered he was ordered to abandon music and devote himself to the law.  At this juncture his uncle Stefano came to his rescue, took him to his house, provided him with a piano, and also with the means to pursue his studies.  Recognizing the uselessness of further objections, the father at last withdrew them, and left his son free to follow his own pleasure.  He progressed so rapidly under Soffredini that he was soon engaged in composition, his first works being a symphony in C minor and a “Kyrie,” which were performed in 1879.  In 1881 he composed a cantata, “In Filanda,” and a setting of Schiller’s hymn, “An die Freude,” both of which had successful public performances.  The former attracted the attention of a rich nobleman who furnished young Mascagni with the means to attend the Milan Conservatory.  After studying there a short time, he suddenly left Milan with an operatic troupe, and visited various Italian cities, a pilgrimage which was of great value to him, as it made him acquainted with the resources of an orchestra and the details of conducting.  The troupe, however, met with hard fortunes, and was soon disbanded, throwing Mascagni upon the world.  For a few years he made a precarious living in obscure towns, by teaching, and had at last reached desperate extremities when one day he read in a newspaper that Sonzogno, the music publisher, had offered prizes for the three best one act operas, to be performed in Rome.  He at once entered into the competition, and produced “Cavalleria Rusticana.”  It took the first prize.  It did more than this for the impecunious composer.  When performed, it made a success of enthusiasm.  He was called twenty times before the curtain.  Honors and decorations were showered upon him.  He was everywhere greeted with serenades and ovations.  Every opera-house