The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 23, 1899, Page 26

SUNDAY-SCHOOL, TO COMIC OPERA e HO is at all but act and rehearse during the = season, you know. The operatic pro- / e fact, any line of dramatic g to the last degree. he t you begin to aspire to Opera- 3 yecome a slave not wish to £ irls don’t realize any- know sed from thing abi goes on the T “the f -ettos and pro- donna, energel cally; “they only b O the his. results. They see the play as a whole— = . of the hiS- 4y, pretty stage costumes, the glitter t charming anq sparkle of it all. They hear the ap- plause and see the flowers go over the footiights, and they think it is all easy 1 a 1d girl who grad- g e il i oly and soul-satisfylng—but it school ente pera stage is s unspoiled as one of of her native State s mantle of spring 1ed aside from {ts fragrant Then you would not advise a girl to go on the stage?” The question I8 asked tentatively, but it has the effect winds having le of*Carmen in g, compelied Olivette” to resign Roustllon and g but, from a , quite as fas- ustique. Ar- ar in t visua ffy of making Miss Ladd’s most artistically Ny -up” blue eyes look very serious Well, for one are the most f women thi m: uni- California the b fou see this spirit manifested ir m the b in ve been writt o/ Blanche Bates as Milady in “The Three Musketeers.” be an actress. I was always given & prominent part in all the Sunday-school and church entertainments,-and as grew older took singing lessons and be- gan to sing in church. “My people were utterly astonished when I, beginning to realize “that I 6ught to do something for myself in- stead of being always taken care of, persuaded Barnabee of the Bostonians to hear me sing. They w astonished when I almost immediate! secured an engagement in the' Bost fans No. 2’ and—little home girl as I was, that had never before even been in a sleeping-car—traveled alone with them as far west as St. Louls and all through the Southern States. That was the beginning of my theatrical work and I made so much of a success of it that as soon as I returned Mr. Wolffe engaged me for two seasons at the Cas- tle Square Theater in Boston. where I not only did pretty well beth artistical- ly and financially, but accumulated a repertoire, which is standing me in good stead at the present time. You see” (this judicially). “I had the pa- tience, the perseverance and the con- stitution. “I have two ambitions which are really one: to save money enough to go to Europe for a thorough course of musical study, and to go into grand opera exclusively. It Is too bad that my voice, so far, has relegated me al- mostly exclusively to these—" and she looks down at her tights with a little frown -of disapproval. “Don’t you like them? think they are—nice?"” The last word comes with an effort, the scarlet tights do look so particular- ly well on Moustique’s shapely figure, but the singer shakes her head decided- Don’t you she declares. “but It is the contralto voice tha The very first part I played was Allan-a-Dale in ‘Rob- in Hood,” and all my dear New England relatives and friends and acquain- tances wondered at my daring. I had, to do it, however, or give up entirely, and that I certainly wouldn’t do, and I've become accustomed to them now, though I never shall like them. That's one thing that a girl has to learn as soon as she goes into this business— that she can’t have her own way about .ven her own costume if her ideas con- -t with the ideas of those in author- caller gently leads to pleasanter Miss Ladd ¢ Wester d, and es people and « r bay. - homesick for the first “I was dr day or two declares, “but such <ind audiences and such delightful as have fallen to my made San Francisco seem jle paradise,” t here her cue came. 1" with that ‘live and let live' im- avenue and If a ed to take it? The man neare into it as gracefu ated by his order: nor along—not he—and the nt to’ it all. Old aint from wear ne: \eavy babes r sh from hip to Qip: rk looks calmly on or else sning paper. undérstand it, ndered h < a Market street r would permit such c But I grew of curiosity but of £ exists outside of and conse- quently h is dubbed incredible or put down ta my pride of State. “Fruit, flewers, climate, sceaery sre the things I en- d and the things I had in glorious fornia. 1 that it is impolitic or me to say this, for I expect to make New York my home in the future, but I can't, T just can't forget that woman bhere and that we , solld respect enjoys more freed owe it to the es of our California men “Particularly is this contrast notice- able of woman's safety in going out alone at nig . It is a privilege that certainly raises the status of moral law in favor of Western man. “No rn woman issafewithout an rt. But in n Francisco I could from the ferry to Twin Peaks without fear. Could I do this in the East. Oh, no. Why is this so?. Be- cause the man by the Western sea has higher principles of society and greater d for woman. We cannot shut es to it. T am home now dear 0o and am going to enjoy the ; of thought and expression which characterize the energies of our great State. Oh, men of the West, this is what one California girl thinks of you. ANNABEL LEE. At the Theaters During the Week. HE chief interest of the week seems to have been the revival of that old familiar play ““The New Magdalen,” and it bids fair to do the largest business of Miss Roberts' season, epting “Camille.”” I re- member a year ago when “East Lynne’” was put on in response to popular de- mand that at the fall of the curtain Miss Roberts went to her dressing room in despair, declaring that the part was not suited to her, that anotner night like the one just over was more than flesh could stand, and tha e positively refused to g0 on again in the part. She awoke next morning to find the critics telling her with one accord that it was the very best work she had done and that she had proven herself to be one of the foremost emotional actresses of the day. She smiled a little, ate her breakfast with increased appetite and went back to duty and her part as meek as a lamb. The reception of “The New Magdalen” 1s another surprise. After each rehearsal a despairing hand would prune and cut and rewrite and alter the action with a view to bringing the play within the ap- preciation and approval of an audience of to-day, and many were the predictions of faflure. Miss Roberts is a master hand at cutting, and will never, if possible, speak an unnecessary line. At the close of the scenic rehearsal they had not yet decided what the final speech, known to the profession as the “tag,” was to be, and after Mr. Moore had exhausted his patience waiting for a decision he said: “Well, Miss Roberts, when you want the curtain rung down to-night just wave to me. T'll be on the lookout for the signal.” I haven't found out yet whether it was waved or winked down, but I do know that the speech served to put a tired set of mummers 1. a roval good humor. Miss Roberts has a keen sense of humor and has many a good story to tell in con- nection with her stage life. Here is a PHOTOS BY EOOVER. & RASMUSSEN Hattie Bell Ladd as Moustique in “Olivette.” “one night hager was cholce morsel. stand” where more ener den scene llant red reached with its gat made her and garden gesture) th went up stage in a in the gap of glee with a few extra lines and the audie one the wiser. Mme. Modje: the habit of drawing queer 1 s on the letter she sends to Nichette in the last of Ca- mille and Miss Roberts, while all the world is In tears, herself included, writes the funniest of letters. Here s the one she wrote at the Sunday night perform- ance: fy Dear Nichette: I am dying to- night for the last time. I cannot come to church, but I will meet you revivified to-morrow at 11 o'clock. Yours miracu- 1 1y, MERCY MERRICK.” hose who sit in front of the footlights know but little of the weariness of con- stant rehearsal. At 4 o'clock on Tuesday 1 found the Frawley company still hearsing “‘Sans Gene’” since then nd full of enthusi y g the company to a good humor with her happy bright smile. Not till rehears did she realize how tired then—collapse and a paltry hard at work two hours’ rest against a trying even: perform- ance. “The Dancing Girl’ played to & most satisfactory week's business and the staircase fall is To my mind it has recommend it. It is 3 daring gymnastics. without beauty, with- out reason, without need, and the strain to save one's neck and limb must be fear- fully trying to the nerves of an actress. No author has the right to demand such @ sacrifice to make his play a success. “The Dancing Girl” sets us moralizing. 'm the topmost rose of the topmost branch_and I love the su says Dru- silla. So do all the topmost roses of the topmost branches and their triumph they forget that “roses mu live and love, but winds must blow,” and how the wind can toss and tear and scatter such to the dust. It is the old story; carefully insulate a girl from life and one day when the woman in her wakes she will feel herself bound and her chief concern will be that the bonds be brosen, not how they should be broken, and on she rushes through experience, too often to ruin, The play is a lesson to many a parent who feels himself wise in his rigid au- thority. “Mme. Sans Gene” pramises to ha applauded. y nothing to a plece of We have not seen ill remem- ayal of the rom observation at ct that Miss Bates will ns Gene 1 she does a fine performance. it for several yea ber Mr earnest effort and talent rewarded. Miss Querita Vincent, who has been playing in vaudeville for many months, is about to leave for the Fast and join the ranks of a first-clasq camedy company: If signs do not fail, she has a brigh I predict tha e will be h, Jlivette” amused th all the week at the ( house and will be followed by to_be sung in English Next week will be the farewell at_the Alc e bl of Lewis Morrison riously . th “Faust, sically we m of his victims. CHARLOT THOMPSON. e The Outer World. It s said that Langd atization of “Vanity F Fiske—the. play will be Sharp”—has seized every dent that re teresting cf evolved a play fully to the novel, is even more skiliful and interesting than was Mrs. Fiske's “Tess of the D'Urbervilles” as that re- lated to the Hardy story. Mr. Mitchell has shown a thorough appreciation of the dramatic values in ‘‘Vanity Fair’ remarkable c: ling them who have e reled at s 1its and the completeness of the it is unfolded. It is sald of the stands that the reader of ty Fair” will find in it that pecullar sat- isfaction that flows from the picturing of a favorite novel on the stage—the living embodiment of its acters and the ity of its sc e one unac- ed with Thackera story, if there be such a one, will enjoy the play as a perfect story in itself. Edna Wallace Hopper will star next season In “Chris and the Wonderful Lamp,” In which extravaganza Jerome Sykes'ts also to have a leading role. The production will be made under the direc- tion of Klaw & Erlanger. George Broad- hurst will do the dramatization and John for Mrs, called ‘“Becky natic cl- seq the work 1 Philip Sousa is writing the music. Mrs. Hopper and Mr. Sykes will be supported, among others Mabella Baker, John , by Page, Ethel Irene Lynch. After performances at Honolulu Janet Waldorf salled thence for Yokohama. Mi Waldorf was accompanied b: manager, James H. Love, Ada Dow C rier, Virginia Craana and Norv Gregor, the rest of her y having decided to remain in Hawaii and play a stock season there. The company will begin an engagement at Manila August 15. Stuart and Nellle By way of illustrating the popularity of Johann Strauss as a waltz composer, a Viennese journalist says he remem- bers seeing, one day, in front of & music store, eighty huge boxes fliled with copies of the “Blue Danube” waltz, all intended for America. Nevertheless, Strauss had received only 250 florins for this walta,