Par 1 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 minutes' acquaintance.
Par 2 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 positive swindles.
Par 3 Mr. de Pachmann plays in Boston, Oct. 19.