I remember one strenuous week in particular. I had to sing _Dalila_ in Prague on Wednesday evening. "Zauberfloete" was scheduled for Tuesday in Darmstadt, and by taking a late train I could arrive in Prague in time to dress for _Dalila_. I had to sing the last bit of the _Third Lady_ in "Zauberfloete" in travelling dress with a black cloak thrown over me and then rush straight to the train. We travelled all night, changing at Dresden in the middle of the night, and waiting at the noisy station for some time. Arrived at Prague I went straight to the theatre, the old one with gas lamps for footlights. "Don Giovanni" of Mozart was given for the first time in this very theatre they told me, and was, I believe, directed by Mozart himself. I duly sang my _Dalila_ and sped back to Darmstadt, where I had to sing _Frau Reich_ Thursday night; and this tiring lady has to have a certain lightness of touch no matter how much train smoke you have swallowed. My troubles were not over yet as I had to take the train that night for Edinboro, Scotland, where I was to appear with the orchestra, and on the following night in Glasgow. The journey was long and tedious, and the only bright spot I can remember was while we crossed a bit of Belgium. We had had a lunch basket handed in with the typical bottle of _vin rouge_, and neither Marjorie nor I wanted it. The next time our train slowed down we happened to have an engine beside us, and I handed the wine through the window to the driver, who received it with true Belgian imperturbability.