Early morning in Cleveland, powdered with snow which, however, was gone by noon. Cleveland is a typical good, solid sort of American city. The hall - the Masonic Hall - was excellent and so was the piano. There were, all the same, a few less attractive aspects: I had to get the fee from the manager before the concert, as he is known not always to pay up afterwards, and the programme was shared with Titta Ruffo, a famous baritone, who was dishing up such awful rubbish that it made one feel quite queasy just to look at the programme. Naturally, his name was top of the bill, rightly I must accept, since I am not widely known in Cleveland. In any case, this is all trivial: I came here to earn $400 I badly need, I will play well, and at eleven o'clock this evening I shall get back to Chicago just as quickly as I can.

The concert was at half-past eight. I played well, although I dozed off in the Medtner and forgot to play the piece's middle section. My success was moderate to begin with, but by the end was very big, just as big as Titta's who, as it happened, was not in particularly good voice. Encores were demanded, and I had forgotten to rpepare any. However, I still played four.