In Washington

"For more years than one cares to remember," mused the Washington Post last week, "the Metropolitan has been passing through Washington on its way to Atlanta." For 19 years, to be precise. Not since Theodore Roosevelt sang off the key in his White House bathroom, not since the Metropolitan meant the tenor glory of Caruso, not since 1908, when the name

Gatti-Casazza sounded more like a college yell than an impresario, had the Metropolitan visited the Capital.

But last week, after dimpled "La Talley" and dainty "La Bori" had kissed their hands a few last times to Manhattan; after flamboyant Martinelli had strutted through Pagliacci and pouter-pigeon Gigli had caroled Rigoletto; after Signer Gatti Casazza had proclaimed the past season his most successful ever, and his opera the best in the world, the Metropolitan entrained, trunks, bags and scenery, ultimately for Atlanta and Cleveland but for a first stop in Columbia's District.

There, a riot of cherry blooms and bright crocuses decked lawns and parkways. Elms and horse-chestnuts were "out." The advance ticket sale was fast and expensive. Dinner invitations sped the rounds, and tiaras came home from the vaults. With 100,000 Easter visitors in town, Washington prepared to prove itself a music centre that is "coming back."