The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, March 10, 1901, Page 5

: 4 LESUIE CARTER MARING VP IN HER POIRKTABLE DREDDINS -ROO™M, By Anne Page. ped and thought of the nu._- of pounds of me that went in t T am afraid I can't get in there.” yes, you can—see, I pull this back ss Muffet I sat on a tuf- g my heart out sar of the hundreds of were colled about on like endless snakes ere was nothing to do but est of it and hope that uctor, so with a ed Fox's “Book of Mar- ed myself to my fate The audience rustied in to the music of ts silken petticoat, removed its hat and gloves, and settled itself to smAll talk “Zaza” from the wings, or any other play, for that matter, is not the animated pestsl one is socustomed to gEze upon from the fromt It is rather the garish poster, painted in bold colors, that at once captures and holds the eye, commanding the attention of the onlooker. We bad been told how very naughty the first act was, and to the uninitiated 3t aforded s glimpse of what is popu- larly supposed to be ‘“lfe behind the scenes.” It wes all there. The dressing room. the flowers, the champagne, and last but not least, the Invitation to the le supper when all was over. The in- evitable Duke also appeared, lending to the Americanized version of the play the fascination of his titled and senile pres- ence. What would the world do, after all, if it were deprived of the little scandals afforded by the nobility? Would not the Sevres teapot remain full on one's day at v want of guests to drain t? ng and end of our lesson in to find out that things are not what they seem, and to discover that the dancer who smiles, flirts and coquets while before the footlights is the most matter-of-fact and serious person to be found in a day’s journey when off the stage, Is, to say the least, disappointing. We h selected, mounted, framed and hung our pet ideas according to our own fancy end are loth to see them step down from their place and mingle with the common things of life. The clergy, who have risen up in arms Zaza,” should be {nvited behind They should leave off split- ting moral hairs on a Sunday and learn how human ropes are spliced on & Mon- day. They would find, much to their surprise, no doubt, that the men and ‘women who comprise this particular com- pany are ladies and gentlemen. They pess from the stage directly to their @ressing rooms. There is no loud laugh- ter, no famillarity, no loitering and no drinking. Everything goes like clock- work, the atmosphere of quiet extending even to the stage carpenters and property men. There is complete change of scene for the second act. When one stands in the middle of the stage and gazes up it looks like a mammoth cave hung with huge stalactites, which at a signal slowly de- egcend and in less time than it takes to tell of it fit themselves Into the three walls of Zaza's cottage. These walls are hung with photographs of Fougers, Merode and other beauties of the Odeon and Francais. These are not distinguish- from the front, but it illustrates the careful attention to detall which charac- terizes all of Belasco's productions. They are the photographs one would expect to find around the room of a woman of Zaza's type. But it is around the star’s real dressing room where centers the most interest. Mrs. Carter's dressing room is unique for many reasons. To begin with, she is the only actress who carries her room with her. A very business looking metal plate to the left of ths door announces MRS. LESLIE CARTER. PRIVATE. . Now, & Wberal translation of the forego- ing would read, “No peddlers, no agents and no newspaper women wanted!" I stepped back in the shadow and walt- ed. All was quiet within. Occasionally there was subdued talking. Then the door opened and the woman who has been called the American Bernhardt stepped out followed by her maid, who'lifted the train of her gown, relleving her of its weight. BShe stopped and, knowing the star's aversion to interviewers, I actually expected something discourteous. I was pleasantly disappointed, however, for with a smile she sald, “You must be tired.” I hastened to assure her that I was not. “Have you seen my dressing-room? You know I designed it myself. Come and see what you think of it.” I stepped into the room., It was, per- haps, some twelve by eight feet. At the end was a large mirror, completely sur- some Quricls Things That Kave Been Seized Fcr"Deb'E 7 GOOD story comes from Australia / of the United States ship Glacier, J 7\ the refrigerating ship of the navy having been seized for debt in barbor of Sydney. A naval vessel is not often seized for debt, and the legality of the seizure might be & matter of interna- tional inquiry. The story is that when the G! er was at Sydney the officers’ mess ran up several bills on shore. When ling, &bl was presented by a tradesman which the used to pay, or the reasonable t they 4id not ow. it. Know- e vessel was to sall shortly the n got a sharp lawyer, who pro- dgment against the ship for the of the A Shoriff came on board on some pretext, and, drawing a warrant for the ship’s seizure from his affixed it to the mainmast. After t to sall away would have brought on nal complications, #0 the mess ried to look pleasant. The bill the nings have been seized for| years ago there was a for-/ in Chicago who had fallen 80 set up at & boarding- | as always in debt, and at rs discovered an ingenious their bllls paid. When the) er an officer of the ed or the table. The »nd the foreign alr. Finally, a= the ers clubbed to- nich they re- £ meal, amid profuss tude on the part of amount paid was, m their board bill tle. When the ta- on twice or thres us the board- urish. he proprietor of a gland receivel e n.” He Geclared that the t refused to pav. £ place he was served mmor nd final judgment and ined for the bill. But papers were made ou: at a third town, and e law went to exe- c a4 menagerie is a trouble levy upon, but it fina was de i, seize a Malay orang-cutang, as belng the handiest ar- ticle of val wha The officers had no idea the as it be- ngry it raved and fought so that ack to the menagerie, which s time had gone to a fourth town. expenses fell upon the people who t the suit, and they were glad ven at that price. traveling theatrical company which left a bill behind at Birmingham, England, was ‘‘caught up” at the next town with 2 writ of attachment upon its trical properties. When the officer to levy he found nothing of much value except the wigs beionging to the show. These he seized, and that night “Richard IT11"” was played by actors with up-to-date close-cropped heads, making a most ludicrous effect whan_combined with medieval clothes. MRS LESLIE CTARTER IN THE DRESSIING-ROOM DCENE OF ZAZA" ATT 1 rounded by electrio bulbs or amerens colors. By pressing. a button she could turn on red, blue;”green or white lights, thus arranging her make-up to suit the lights to be thrown on her during any particular act. Everything was immacu- lately clean. A white sheet covered the floor, and shelves along one end held hats, boxes, dainty boots and numerous other things necessary for her part. On one wall was hung a large shield over which was crossed the American flag and the Unfon Jac. This was presented to her on the first night of ‘her great London . triumph. At the sides of the room _on the floor were ar- ranged electric - heaters, for use as she smilingly explained, in cities not blessed with a climate like ours. All around the top were ventilators, and the whole room comes apart in two pieces and folds, tak- ing up surprisingly little room in transpor- tation. In this way, she is always sure of a clean, comfortabls, well-lighted apartment, a great consideration when one is on the road, subject to all sorts of Inconvenieuces in the way of dressing- room accommodations. Although some of our modern theaters have sultable rooms, the majority are bullt with no other thought than economy of space. Mrs. Carter has none of the affectations and mannerisms that are too often bought at Fame's bargaln counter. It is plain to be seen that gentllity has been her DRESSING ROON SET UP ON TRE STAGE.. . s Dirtamgny, and she 100Ks uUpon her success only as the result of hard labor. But it is 80 rarely one meets a nature big enough not to be intoxicated by the plaudits of the world. It may be, because she has sounded so well the depths of sorrow, that ehe has learned in the hard school of ex- perfence how to measure its approbation. A Wednesday matinee is the bete noire of the player-folk. Mrs. Carter was not well, but personal ills must be lald aside when * one has become public property. With but a few hours of rest she must go on again at 8 o'clock. She must be Zaza, she must live, love and suffer, and when she says that she pities and loves the poor ignorant gir] she portrays, one is'not surprised to kuow that her kisses, laughter and tears are real, the latter so real that her handkerchief is a wet rag when the curtain falls on the fourth act. In that act she runs the gamut of human passions with an art that conceals art, and she staggers to her room convulsed with sobs that no amount of training can stop at will. In this act the breakfast scene, like the steak, is a bit overdone. It takes no gallery play to win applause in a San Francisco audience which is representa- tive of our best people. The steak, which is also real, is fed nightly to the colile dog who has been the mascot of the com- pany since its start. Mrs. Carter has a magnificent stage presence, and it is interesting to know act. A property man aroused himself from a quiet nap he had been snatching in the comfortable cushions of Zaza's car- riage. He rolled the Victoria to its proper position, fastened the reins to a ladder and then lighted the lamps which refused to stay lit. leaves over the green carpet and the flower. girl came on ready for her en- trance. “This is an exact reproduction of the Champs Elysee,” sald Mr. Stevenson. “Last summer I took a run across to Paris to see the French version of Zaza. I was disappointed, however, as they had withdrawn it. I took a carriage one night and drove to the Ambassadeurs and stopped just here (indicating the position of the Victoria). It was just such a night You know they always applaud this scene when the curtain rises.” I thought I would like to see how the audiencs took the fourth act, so I went out Into the foyer. That proved uninter- esting and I went Into the ladles’ loung- ing room. There sat a woman, falr, fat and forty. You know the style that chums with any and every body Fate mey throw across her path. Her unfortu- nate victim was the colored maid who smilingly arranges your wrap—for a con- sideration. “Oh, say, do you know, I simply can't go back—I've just cried and cried—say, .. DREssine moom FoLDED. that no corset encases her beautiful fig- ure. Bhe has grown. much' stouter- since she was here last, when we all held our breath as she swung,from the bell in #The Heart of Maryland.” s Little “Toto” off the stage is as charm- Ing & child as it has been my good for- tune to meet. - Shie has'been with tHe com- pany two vears, and lacks all the boldness and, precocity usual 'with stage:chfldren. '‘And you went to London with' Mrs. Carter?” s , “Oh, yes.” “And how did you Ifke it' . “Very much, indeed, thank you.” “Do you enjoy being an actress?” ~ ““Oh, yes, very muc! and she tossed ther pretty curls and' straightened her vel« vet hat. Bhe, too, could'teach a lesson to many little girls at:home who, alas, are too often heard as well seen, They were setling the stage for the last you know I am just overcome.” “Yes, ma'am,” responded the dark one. I pretended to fasten my vell, while I watched her in the glass. Her second chin rested confidingly on the top of her pigeon breast, whose height was exagger- ated by a corset presumably of the time of Marie Antoinette. “You know I am so emotional—a play like this just affects mae for days and days ~you know my husband says I shouldn't go to plays ltke this, becauss I feel them 0. “Yes, ma'am.” “Now, I don't want to see any mere, They say she comes out all in white and is perfectly calm, and I think that spoils 1t an” “Yes, ma'am,” The curtain weat up en the last aet, “Well, say, I suppese I should ge back, because my husband will be se worried, you know he will think I have fainted.” “Yes, ma’am.” With a healthy voleanie sigh she arose and returned to hubby. “Say!” I said to the mald, “T'm very deaf and I've dropped my handkerchief— A lame boy scattered ;do you supposs I could find 187 “Yes, ma’'am™—end the telephone come= pany has not yet discovered her! I hurried back. The curtain fell and there wers several recalls, then all went to their dressing-roor The stage was cleared, the leaves picked up, the carpet rolled back, overything returned to its place with quiet and careful precision, all in readiness for the next performance of +- e and so like this that I felt quite at home. | | Aetual Poverty of the Tropics. HAT the tropics are really poor In natural resources instead of being rich is the argument of Dr. Seme- leder of Cordoba, Mexico. His ar- guments ars especially interesting just now, when so much attention is being at- tracted to the hot regions of the world as places for exploitation. The doctor, in a letter to the Medical Record, says: “All men dream of the marvelous riches of the tropics, of the birds with rainbow plumage, of the extravagant flowers, of the elegant tree ferns, of the bananas and | palms with waving leaves and of the coco | palm, which furnishes man with every- | thing necessary for life. Indeed, we pity | him who has never seen a tropical land- | scape as we pity him who, has never seen the sea. Then we think of the enormous treasures the English, Spanish and Dutch | have harvested from their tropical colo- niles, and, naturally, we think that the troples are the richest regions of the srid. All this may be true, yet, never- | theless, in another sense, Instead of being I rich, the tropics are fatally poor. Unable | to secure the necessaries of life, the peo- ple’of tropical countries are llke the man in whose hand everything turns to gold, yet who perishes of hunger and thirst. “Of all the breadstuffs necessary for man the tropics furnish only corn and rice, and these only to a limited extent. They have no wheat, rye or potatoes. The banana may be, as Humboldt says, 133 times more productive than wheat, and # times more so than potatoes, yet it can- not replace efther as food. Nor can white men live for any length of time on rice and corn alone, nor on bananas and palm nuts. Native tropical foods can only hold body and soul together, as they furnish but little vigor, energy and power. No machine can do good work with poor fuel. A man who has neither bread nor meat cannot get life and strength and push from tee, ¢offee, sugar, vanilla and all the precious spices. Tropical products are merely commercial luxuries, and If the inhabitants of cold climes did not buy them the people of the tropics would lack the necessarfes and comforts of life and ‘would yet chcke with their own riches. “It we wish to know the effects of the poor diet of the tropics combined with the effects of the heat, we have only to look at the inhabitants of these countries. As a general rule they are thin, poorly built and unflt for intellectual or physteal labor. Occasional exceptions will only confirm the rule, “Even the foods which are produced are insufliclent in amount, so that the least interference with the annual crops results in famines, as is the case in India to-day. Indeed, India has always been the land of fabulous riches of a few and of famines of the millions. Until recently in the cold countries there were none of fabulous wealth and but few famines. “Everything in hot countries is harmful to man; the ground, the water and the alr, swarming with mlasma and vermin, and with torment and danger, Life is as much a torment as a pleasure, for what- ever makes life worth living fa lacking. They depend for indispensable necessar: upon the temperate gones, to which they furnish only the luxuries.”