[This article appeared in
The Worcester Spy
, Massachusetts, Saturday 30 September, 1899,
page 2. A copy was kindly provided by the Worcester Public Library
This web version is dated 12 August 2003.
Vladimir de Pachmann took the 10.12
train for New York yesterday forenoon.
He was the first of the artists to go.
If he were a woman, people would call
him a chatterbox. De Pachmann knows
that he talks too much, but he cannot
control his tongue, and apparently says
everything that comes into his head,
like a vivacious, spoiled little boy. His
feelings are constantly being hurt, and
he does not read the papers much,
because they jolly him so awfully. If you
happen to please him or to confer ever
so trifling a favor, he expresses his
satisfaction by jumping up and kissing
your hand, a sufficiently embarrassing
operation for the average American
woman; but the man who travels with
him to take care of him and the piano,
is contented if he does not request a
kiss in the name of friendship of a 15
To say that the people who run the
Bay State were relieved to see the last
of him is almost a matter of course.
He is fussy to a degree, and finds fault
with everything, particularly with
American prices, which strike him as
Mr. de Pachmann plays in Boston,