Chalet de Riond Bosson

What Ignace Jan Paderewski was thinking as he sat on the terrace of his villa at Morges, above Lake Geneva, Switzerland, one evening last week, is not a matter of record. He might have been thinking of his U. S. tour, scheduled to begin on Oct. 22, or he might simply have been reviewing with an after-dinner pleasure the events of that day. He had spent part of the morning discussing with a gardener the construction of a new hothouse and later, satisfied that the new house would be the equal of the others in which it is his pleasure to grow pears and grapes, he strolled past the chicken yard toward the park. The chickens, of course, were more his wife's affair than his, but they reflected credit on him -- an entirely new species of chickens, called the "red and white," which Poland has adopted as its "national breed'' as a way of paying him a compliment. His chateau, four stories high, with a wooden chalet roof, was built by the Count de Maaroes and stands on a site first used by Joseph Fouche, Duke of Otranto, Napoleon's Minister of the Interior. From the terrace on which he was sitting the ground tapered away into a shadowy skirt of pines, cedar, lindens he had laid out himself -- the park. With his Polish land sold, now that Pilsudski was in power there, this place had become to the pianist, far more than his property at Nyon or his ranches in California, important as the background of his comfort. With the effort of his concert tour still a few weeks away, it must have seemed odd to him to find his easy reflection interrupted by a sharp and growing discomfort in his side.

Appendicitis is not a casual matter for a man of 69. Before the attack had reached its height or the doctor made his diagnosis Paderewski must have known what it was. His case was serious, yet the amazing sequence of that evening was not the hurried drive down the dark road through the park and on to Lausanne, not the operation, or his quick recovery, but his own refusal to change his plans. He was confident that he would be out of it safely in a short time, and in a shorter time than anyone dared hope the car was bringing him back again through the park, stopping at the door of the house he has made his ultima thule. There had been no fever, no aftermath. At the Chalet de Riond Bossons Madame Paderewski continued her interest in the red and whites and her husband when he felt strong enough walked gingerly down the path to watch them working on the greenhouse. His sailing, booked for Oct. 6, had been slightly postponed. He plans to arrive in the U. S. about Nov. 15. will play in 45 towns.

Because Paderewski is the most widely beloved of living musicians, his sailing date for the 1929-30 season is the most eagerly watched. But most of the world's musicians were last week in transit or on the verge of transit. Important was the arrival in the U. S. of Arturo Toscanini to conduct the first concerts of the New York Philharmonic-symphony. With him came wife and pet dog Piciu. Daughters Wanda and Wally come soon.

The Philharmonic-symphony, it was announced last summer (TIME, July 15), will start on a European tour next April. On his arrival last week Toscanini expressed quietly his pleasure at going as its conductor. One day later, on the Ile de France, came Conductor Serge Alexandrovitch Koussevitzky of the Boston Symphony. Said he: "You can quote me as saying that the Boston Symphony Orchestra will go to Europe this spring or never.* It is not interested in imitating other organizations. Furthermore, Europe has been waiting for the Boston Symphony Orchestra and not for any other American organization."

*An interested listener to the Boston Symphony in Europe may well be Dr. Karl Muck, himself its onetime (1912-18) conductor. Banished from Boston on doubtful charges of Pro-Germanism, Dr. Muck returned to Europe ten years ago, has spent most of his time since in Hamburg where he is conductor of the Philharmonic and Friends of Music. One of the greatest Wagnerian conductors (said by many to be the illegitimate son of the Great Richard and Mathilde Wesendonck), Dr. Muck may also be seen every Festival year at Bayreuth. Tourists returning describe him as frail and swiftly aging; friendly always and eager to ask questions of Boston and its musical development.