Like a beneficent country parson, a tall, portly woman stood in the doorway of an old New England meetinghouse at Pittsfield, Mass. one day last week. There she shook hands with some 500 persons who had come to be her guests at another oldtime Berkshire Festival. The guests were either established musicians or else socially important neighbors from Lenox, Stockbridge, Lee. For a few old friends the hostess stooped from her height (6 ft. 1 in.), endeavored to hear their greetings through the mother-of-pearl earphone she wore clasped to her head. But the...
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