The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 29, 1901, Page 3

YBIL is coming back. It is the unexpected that is about to happen. For she said she wouldn’t, always, wouldn't, return to America. She made it very plain that she wouldn't play in our yard. She said she didn’t like us. We had slighted her. We had abused her. We didn’t know music from the cackling on a hen roost. She had had enough of us. And now, voluntarily, she is coming back. She has made up her own quarrel to suit ‘F!f. has decided to forgive and forget, and we shall hear her sing in San Francisco when Mr. Grau opens his sea- son here. Grau happens to be the posse: #or of an excellent bank account, and this v have something to do with Sybil's forgiveness. She has never sung in San Francisco since she first left here, before the days of her name and fame, to study abroad. Bhe hag tried herself on New York once during that time, and a sorry frost arose. That is why she decided to hate America. Naturally San Francisco has some cu- riosity to see and hear the lady. She Was brought up here, or, at least, came up. There are those within our limits who went to school with her. There are those who taught her, or tried to. There are those who played with her, those who scolded her, those who made love to her. Sybil is much and variously remembered. The fair Sybil was fain to pose as a lovely devil and was immensely displeased if any one doubted her right to the title. There were prudish mammas who told thetr little girls to say they had a cold and must remain indoors when Sybil wanted them to come play with her. Sybil hes slways found the world full of prudes who could not let her alone. There is a little lady in town who used th teach drawing and painting to the three small Sandersons when they lived out on Gough street. “Sybll really had some talent along that line,” she tells me, “and she was quick re took up, for that matter; dn't work. Her mother used to become discouraged. “ ‘Do ¥ think there is any use in hav- ing her keep on with her lessons? she would ask me i p Except from her music teachers all re- ports are similar. Sybil seems always to have had two strong affections—for her art and for her charming self. She has found plenty to share these af- fections with her. Great musicians have written operas for her voice. Royalty has sought her favor. She has played with famous men, *wealt if they She may stir m native S Rumor has it th y men, powerful were on a chess board. tters when she returns e t she has run through money, which was the money of Terry. "Tonio was the son of To- Terry, you recollect, or old Tom s he was before he ceased being i became a Cuban plant- re of old Toy's divided amonks s ) and a life interest in went to his widow. conceivable that mourned gentleman nost three years, she on her uppers. This d to have the repu- hat of any prima reason or some other, s been singing in light e her return to the t up for good and eved. So he or- to remain to rders were carried out, and se the money bags were ause the old fascination could she went to singing again. nd now there are those who say that the 1 e something to say ns of the will, inasmuch lling “her part of the has made a spe- long of understanding is not likely that she has always known and has got it. The pub- compliment to her, but e of time g what she wants—she be- she was very Francisco. She e she wanted it, she e she wanted it, she owns and journeys. She teachers whom she didn’t want and made no bones of telling them Sanderson £0. Bhe was too busy having fun to study anything but m “Bright and rp as a new tack,” they several private teach- more in the public schools , where Terry’ .HLS she was allowed to glve up her time to music—that is, what time she had. Her love affairs were beginning to take up most of her time. She was developing a wonderful voice, which she used for light music—such as would be ragtime nowadays. Classical opera was still unknown to her. There are those to be found who claim to have inspired Sybil Sanderson to go on the operatic stage. It is likely that she inspired herself, if the truth were known. She has never shown. any tendency to take advice. However, there were plenty who advised her to {ry a ‘“career.,” as well as plenty who advised sweet domes- ticity, and the former are eager to prove that theyr are responsible for a world- famous sovrano. She had things pretty much her own way musically from tiie time she went abroad. She was barely a young lady then, just coming to the fullness of her beaufy send spine It was the shivers up and this of her icians went daffy over her. She was everybody’s protege. Her adoring masters could hardly wait for her debut. Massenet was the one chiefly identified with her career. He was both teacher and composer—he was both to her. He dreamed of the time when the “California Nightingale” should warble his scores. The time came. He raved, Paris raved, Europe raved. Paris, Berlin, Vienna and St. Petershurg were at her feet before long. Massenet had written “Esclarmonde” for her: Saint- Saens had written “Phryne.” The latter was most popular, as its Grecian cos- tumes and difficult scores displayed both Sybil and her voice to great advantage. She became identified with the opera, and tvpe of beauty to and down a Parisian fact, coupled with the voice, guaranteed her to this day best known in connection with it. For years she remained a favorite abroad. At last she was induced by the same American jingle which has induced all the European singers to come to America. She sang a brief season in New York, was a failure and returned to Paris sayving ali kinds of horrid things about us this s'de the pond and vowing that she never would return. California despaired of ever hearing her again. Back in Paris her friends soothed her troubled feclings and coaxed her to sing to them once mcre. But her first period as an opera singer was drawing to a close. It was in March, 1895, that she d from New York; it was in June, 1 that a dispatch from England an- nounced her marriage on the Isle of Jer- sey. The message was false, but it was an anticipation. At just that time little brown "Tonio Terry didn’t_know exactly what to do with his wife. She was an embarrass« ment to him and considerably hindered his marriage with Miss Sanderson. Sh had been in his way for a long time an had hindered at least five other marriages that he had contemplated. The previous one had been with Sadie Martinot, who was last seen here under the wing of Henry Miller. But when Sybil dawned on his horizon Sadie was seen through th big end of the glass. She has been callel portly, but she wasn’t to be found with a microscope after he had cast his eyes o Sybil's charms. This time he really fel personal grievance that his wife exe it isted She went to Paris and began to sue for divorce. By the way, she had been Grace Dalton Secor of New York—one of théd four hundred and the gayest of the gay. Her charms for Terry, though, had waned. Aione and unhappy in Paris, she brought suit for divorce. There were all kinds of muddles over the cross suit: in the end it was fixed so that she was fres to do as she pleased and Terry was di- vorced without the right to marry again. Tkis was most inconvenient for him, and annoyed him a great deal for a while, but Mrs. Terry could do as she pleased ttled pleasantly for him in the he and Sybil were quietly made n December of that vear. She vromised him to leave the stage. They went off for a wedding trip to Italy and disappeared from public notice for a while. The next thing they did to inter- est the world at large was to fall despers ately sick, both of them. He threatened to go blind and she to become paralyzed, In the end he died and she revived on the fortune he left her. They had been married just a year when she was left a_widow. She found herself owner of a splendid gift. provided she should not marry agai There was s Cuban jealousy came in, He had always watched her like a cat and Lad never been sure whether it was more pleasure or misery to have a charming wife. Until this season she has spent her widowhood in retirement, looking after Terry's ghter. She has entertained at times, b not as much as formerly. She gathers the few congenials and sings to them when she becomes lavish; she re- ceives her old friends from America witi the California hospitality that was born in her and has not been educated out of her. But she has been Mme. Terry, nof “the California Nightingal and the “American Songbird Sorceress” as of old. It is to be seen whether she is to rewin th titles or whether the song has flown. It also to be’ heard what San Fran- cisco will have to say to her. We shall Dbe kept guessing until the Grau season. SARAH COMSTOCK. THE SUNDAY CALL. 2208 o L OSANDERSON PN HTINGAL q o /) Sixth Lesson on Playing Whist. By Mrs. A. Hess of the San Franclsco Whist Club. % 7 7 A 2 1), “: "'(l y Z > HERE specific rules good W unless ex- are no for perienced any great ext T ever, a few rules pply to certain holdings, one of which is the obligatory firesse—a u are bound to make to keep co yoyr own suit. Then e proper ce. queen that can beginner. to almost any s holding up, » take a trick already been canld possibly >rms, as there se considered one »d whist play situation in em extensivel how little t, if one at- know own in rd pe disiributed to make this nes the obligator: For example of which he it with the three car of t Now if 2 the highest 10, is king he give up comm 1d there is not er him. A should the e and, aithough sce and 1 may be in C's hand, be cannot lc v. A should play and if C has the ace singly it must 1 to the trick, although already won b C's partner, and A’s suit is cleared. Now if trumps t A's king will bring th are « Gown the knave, and he must make the $and & great advantage to get a one should alwa card in his partner’ holds only three cards in it Holding four cards or more, the lowest, as own high cards in th fied in retu expect 1o 1 nis suit, as four car of a suit onsidered & strong suit Again A leads fourth best, from knave, 9,8 7,6 C plays the 2, B plays the king, D plays the ace. B, to lead, plays the 5 D plays the 3. Now if A plays the knave he cannot make a trick in the suit. He must play the 6, for even if he finds the queen and 10 in C's hand he cannot, lose. Had he held knave, 10, 8, 7, 6, he would play the 10, unless the 9 feil in the pre- vious play. That is what is called mak- _ing the obligatory finesse. proper is the simplest form iding ‘The finesse of fines by by partner suit jed queen of small ¢ may finesse the queen against the possible king in th# fourth hand, for if it is to your Jeft, guarued, it must make anyw: and the chances are in favor of pariner hav- ing the knave in hi it. This finesse you should nearly always make in the early part of the hand. Holding ace queen or in partner's suit, it is not best to fines queen; play the ace and return the queen and you can have no more. In trumps it is dangerous to make this finesse, if partner has led trumps for the protection of a suit and it is desirable to take out two rounds of trumps imme- ¢. 1t you do not have a reason for aside from the gaining of an im- trick you should not make the for if the finesse loses to fourth hand he must then lead something to ich you are the last player; if this po- sition is not an advantage to you you should not finesse. Holding a king, singly, guarded, or a major tenace in a suit or both, you are in a good position to be led up to should your finesse lose and you are justified ir making X. When trump.; are léd original- ly by partner you are justified in deep nessing, holding ace, knave and others; you credit your partner with at least one honor and the knave is a fair finesse, as vou are only finessing against one card, which must make, if guarded, in any event. However, should _partner show great strength you should ‘be very care- ful how vou finesse unless your hand can immediately recover its advantage by be- ing led up to. Do not finesse when you hold four trumps to your partner’s original lead of trumps. When_partner_le: if th s a low kard you lead is a regular one, that he cards higher than the one st be guided by this knowl- making a finesse in trumps. ing by trial is a finesse made at hand play: thus A leads the 2 from 8, second hand holding ace, 10, 5 third hand plays queen and fourth hand plays the 3. A, to lead again, leads the 8; second hand.can here finesse the 10, as he knows third hand (barring carding) cannot have the knave, as played the queen. This finesse should usually be made when strong in ‘trumps— strong enough to lead them should the finesse lose. After the play has advanced toward the end of the hand the inferences you have drawn, both positive and negative, will guide you in making or not making cer- tain finesses. The discard is a subject of great impor- tance. There are rules governing the first discard. Your first discard should be from your weakest suit unless trumps have been declared against you. Should your partner lead trumps you still discard from your weakest suit. Should your op- ponents open the trump suit your first discard should be from your best pro- tected suit, for two reasons: First, when trumps are declared against you you can-, not reasonably expect to bring in your long suit in its entirety; therefore you should protect your weak suits, one of edge in i which must be your opponents’ suit, and by keeping it intact you may delay the tablishment of it for the opponents: econdly, you tell partner, by the discard on the opponent’'s lead of trumps, what ~\5751L~5ANDERSQN g AS4SHE APPEARS To-DAX: ,,‘/ / v your strong suit is, and he will lead you a strengthening card in it at his first opportunity. Trumps being declared in your faver you may keep your strong suit intact and 9, g’ 7 W Y.L 3 %277 % %, 2! freel cardin more always dangerous to ~ weaken your weak suits by dls- from them, as you are playing a 'orward game and may reaso expect to make your strong suits. It discard a singleton nabiy 1s 7 or to siank an ace. The singleton may de your partner’s great suit. ‘When trumps are declared against you and partner is discarding one suit you should usually discard a erent one, @ ) " i A V! iy 77 ”"‘/’4}2 ;;”l ),/ g | yh_l,;/ // as to keep some cards between you of A bu"Tnay be gutded b7 the interences during the pla; the as ta cards to diagard 3 f drawn o what toward