The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 2, 1902, Page 11

THE SUNDAY CALL. TRITT NEEDS ALF the show nowadays at Fisch- er's is watcaing Barney Bernard make up. It is & part of the show that eged may see. their bits at the k they get their litle Hebrew—be- fitted—and for ail e contrary the wig nere and the clothes t seen the real Barney ey have missed the most namely, mak- not the oily gentleman who The real Barney is shaved , bar- 1y. real Barney transform himself 8 1 Yankle is to watch & magic tran that takes you into the world of the Arabian Nights. It is & presto-changeo, and Solomon springs rown up every of the week, h grease paint, a little curled hair, 2 wig and a suit of clothes. The whole process of making him night He arises from a da and two afterno @ i TITLED NOBLEMEN WHO ARE WAITERS fakes exactly an hour and a half. This is no short time, however, for a make-up. “If I didn't care—if I were willing to put on a beard instead of making one on me—if I thought that anything is good enough and that the audience would never notice—if I were like those other fellows who don’t work to get ahead— then I could do my making up in fifteen minutes and save myself a lot of trouble. As it.is, I have to get to the theater at 7 o'clock every evening In order to be ready by half-past 8. While I was play- ing in Buffalo last season I went through the job twice every day for the continu- ous performance. Three hours a day that was, for nothing in the world but making up. But that’s half the game.” It centainly is in his case. His make- up is a labor of love. It is thé work over which he spends good hours of hard thinking and experimenting and failing before success comes. Every time he is given a new part he goes to work to plan the make-up for it, and he tries a thou- sanfl different ways before he hits on one that is to his liking. He is up against the difficulty that a character actor, not a caricaturist, must be. If he were will- ing to caricature according to tradition he would find it simple enough to put on a black wig and beard and a large ool sult of clothes for evéry appearance, al- tering from play to play merely by the color of a gaudy necktie or the shape of a walstcoat. But Barney Bernard at- tempts realism, not caricature. He has studied New York's Ghetto types to the end that he may know whereof he acts. He knows that every Hebrew does not wear a black beard; in fact, they have their individualties. These are what he attempts to reproduce. Every one he de- lineates is a new one, although they all revert back to certain distinctions that he claims are born and bred in them. The Jew that he is playing nowadays in “Hurly Burly” is his nightly task from 7 o'clock until his last appearance in a suit that does not fit him. The making of him begins with having the lights right. The lights are so im- portant in any careful make-up that one fiicker out of place will upset the work. 'm so nervous that if everything doesn’t go exactly right and if the lights don’t happen to be perfect I have to throw down everything and sit still and hold on to myself for a while until I can behave,” says Bernard. “I say things that you couldn’t print any way, so there’s no use my telling you what they are. When I'm on the road I don’t dare depend on the measly little lights we get ir dressipg-rooms. so I take my own pow- IN EUROPE’S FASHIONABLE RESTAURANTS F there is any satisfaction in having one's gastronomic requirements min- istered to by a waiter of ancient, and val lineage and high-sounding e are many restaurants in the pleasure may be experienced which to-day. In one of the best known restaurants 2V for instance, the urbane ard ad waiter has much of the est and best blood of Europe in his He is the son of an Archduke and on of an Emperor; and not many s ago was one of the most brilliant shionable of European Princes. t, @s he says, “even Princes must end as he has a wife and seven iren, and nothing to save them from destitution but his own labor, as wisely accepted the role of waiter. irst day of service the royal tips amounted to over $15, and as naturally a great demand for Lis , he can at least rely on an in- come of $5000 a year. A restaurant in the neighborhood of | Park, New York, can boast of aristocrats among its small army f waiters. One of them is a Russian Prince, the grandson of one of the most brilliant statesmen Russia has ever pro- lant iced, and & privileged friend and con- of the ill-fated Czar, Alexander The Prince fled from Russia as the consequence of a duel with a brother of- + “The Leopard’s Spots.” I By Thomas Dixon Jr. l ficer and near relative, in which he killed his opponent; and after enduring great ardships in New York, was glad to ac- the position of walter at a restau- where he has endeavored to conceal his past history. A fellow waiter is the Baron von O—, at one time a dashing and distinguished T in the Saxon army, and the rep- ntative of cne of the oldest and most famous families in Germany; while a third aristocrat who plies the napkin and administers cocktails is the grandson of & general who won considerable fame in the Franco-German war, and is entitled to call himself ““Count. There are several young British aris- tocrats who are acting as waiters and bartenders in different parts of Australia. One of them, it is said, was acting in this capacity” when he received the news of the death of a cousin which made him Lelr presumptive to one of the oldest titles in the British peerage. He had a life of singular adventure be- Tore this turn came in the tide of his for- tunes. He had worked before the mast, bad “punched cows” in the States, work- ed in Canadian lumber camps, graduated as a Californian gold miner, had mended roads and worked on the raflways in Aus- tralia, and had herded sheep in the bush, e varled experience which few potential wearers of a coronet can rival. One of the most popular waiters in an Avstralian hotel is actually the younger son of a British peer, and a man who claims descent from a sister of Henry VIII. The remarkable feature in his case is that he has a sufficient private income to make work of any kind unnecessary, and that he follows his gurious profession, as he says, “for love and not for lucre.” London, too, has its aristocratic wai- ters. Indeed it is said that one of Brit- ain’s present peers, during the varied and adventurous career which came befora his accession to his title, spent several months as a waiter in one of the West End clubs, and in this capacity often ministered to his relative and predecessor, who had no suspicion of his identity. In a restaurant near Leicester Square, London, the head waiter is an Italian Count, and the present representative of a family which has produced some of the greatest soldlers and statesmen of Italy. He is a man of distinguished and court- ly manners, and long before his identity was revealed was curiously enough com- \monly spoken of as “the Count.” He still bears traces of a bullet wound which al- most brought his career to a tragic'ter- mination at the siege of Gacta. One of the highest nobles of the duchy of Baden was, it is sald, for more than a year a walter in one of the large Lon- don hotels, and it was during this period at the unexpected deaths of his grand- father, father and elder brother wrought such g dramatic revolution in his for- tunes. erful incandescents along ready to attach to any fixture. I have to have the light: placed so that I can se¢ myself as others see me—that is, as the audience does. Then I know what I'm going to look like when I get out on the stage.” When Mr. Bernard is sure that the lights are the best they can be—and at present while he is playing a long en- gagement he has his dressing-room ex- actly as he wants it—he goes to work to get rid of coat and vest and collar and all the superfluities that a modern civili- sation demands for street wear. “I have to keep somewhat more dressed than I really want to,” he says, “for I have at least three or four visitors every time I go through the process. But I have to get down to whete it begins to be cool, for this is warm work.” Before his mirror he puts on two lines and two dabs of grease paint. It is simple enough, those heavy red spots near the corner of the eyes and the lines from nose to mouth. But Barney Bernard tried a great many more lines * lished in The Sunday Call the first part of “The Leopard’s Spots,” by Thomas Dixon Jr. Here is 2 novel that is the sensation of the day and ome that must be read to be appreciated. You will have it free with The Sunday Call. This is a story of the white man’ burden, 1865-1900, showing the par- adox of the negro in American so- clety, alike in the North and in the South, and giving expression to the Jong-silent gnuthem feeling which scorned national public opinion and defled efforts to change social con- ditions by law. A tale of the South, mbout the dramatic events of destruction, re- construction and upbuilding—the EMEMBER that on next Sun- R day, November 8, will be pub- pveriod of mnegro rule, the at- titude of the Southern white man to the mnegro, and the reassertion of white supremacy. Theése are the materials, used with historical accuracy, in the devel- opment of a story full of struggle. So little has been written out of first-hand knowledge and by South- e¢rn men nabout the reconktruction era, that the tragic events of the hook almost go beyond belief. It is an historical revelation as well as a romance. And men woo and women are won in strenuous times as well as in 1imes of quiet. Indeed, love runs ‘ben a more interesting and exeit- ing course, next sunday’s Call will contain the first part of this virile novel. Don’t fail to get it! before he found the right ones. 3 “There’s about half the character 'in these,” he says. The lines downward from the nose serve to deepen the smile and to broaden it. They are worth thousands to that in- imitable smile. Now comes the tedious work with the crepe hair. It is this that replaces the beard. Bernard's beard grows and is bar- bered for every performance and no one i3 allowed to touch it but himself. ““When I get too old to act I can make a living as a barber,” is his consolation. You would think so, if you saw him clip and trim. That comes later, though. First the spirit gum has to be applied. This is the soil whereon the whiskers grow. It looks like. mucllage, comes in ‘what looks to be a mucilage bottle and is applied with an appropriate brush. It is applied 1n the exact outline of the side ‘whisker, Then come the struggles with the crepe hair. It is bought in long braided ropes that are made in German factories. “Ten cents a day is all the girls get In those factories. That's why I can buy the stuff at only 3§ cents a yard. A yard lasts me a week, so it is not l{uvy drain on my expenses.” T2 2 on A T W— et 7 1oIY MOUSTACHE A lght shade of suburn is what Ber- nard chooses to use for his present char- acterization. From the loosened end he combs out enough for one side whisker. It has to be worked out cargfully so that the fibers will run all one way, as they do in real whiskers. Then it is applied to gum. It appears shaggy at first. As soon as it is patted firmly down it has to be trimmed into shape “It's a good thing my eyes are adjust- able,” gays Barney. “A man’s eyes have to be if he Is his own barber.” His eyes and his head go through name- less and countless contortions while he clips with his long shears the rapld growth on face and neck. “Do you notice that I have put the halr on thicker in the neck? And I mixed & little dark hair with it. A man’s halr 1s thicker and darker down there. " Barney Bernard is a realist. The whisker under the chin does mot have to be combed with such care. “Down there nobody can tell whether the halrs run in the right direction or not.” After the lines and the whiskers are done Barney Bernard tries on his smile every night before the mirror to make sure that it 1s ia good working qrder. D) =) The wig is so simple a matter that ft amounts to only a finishing touch. It cost him hours of bother, though, In the first place when he was having it made to order. It is now according to his own direc- tions. Almost bald from the forehead back, with a smattering of hairs; thick hair growing at the back, slightly waved. The hair is brown, without a hint of the reddish cast that appears in the beard. Here is another touch of realism. The wig 1s padded in the forehead to give the height that 13 characteristic. The line where the pink forehead of the wig joins the real forehead is carefully blended by means of grease-paint. Nothing is left now but the putting on of Solomon’s misfits. The dangling coat, the high collar and flaming red tle, the flopping shoes and hat that pushes the ears out—they‘. are the least of the make- up ‘When Barney Bernard has grown and barbered that nightly beard he considers his real labor finished. Photographie Pointers for Amateurs. METHOD of lantern slide making which is far superior in the writ- er’s opinion to the contact method 1s that known as reproducing in the camera. Lantern slides made by camera reduction are, as a rule, more even in quality and better in every re- spect than those described In our two previous articles. - Rather more apparatus is necessary for this work than for con- tact printing, but it is not at all difficult to improvise, and the writer will give his own manner of working under conditions that apply to the ordinary amateur or beginner in this work. First of all, it must be understood that the lantern slide plate, 3%x4 inches in size, must contain all of the picture to be copled that it is desired to show on the screen, and that room must be left around the outside of the plate for a lantern slide mat and the binding paper. This reduces the actual working size of the plcture to an approx- imate measurement of 2%x3 inches. It is surprising, however, with what ease and beauty of detail a negative of much larger dimensions may be copled upon a plate of this size through the camera. Choosing a bright day and a window into which the sun does not shine direct- 1y, the window should be covered with a she: of tracing cloth or traclng paper and the shade pulled down to a point of contact with the upper edge of the paper, thus flitering all Y PTRYING On THE A 11 the light that comes through this window. Now, in front of the window place om a table a soap box or other contrivance to hold the negative to be copied. If a soap box, it should be stood on end and a hole cut in the bottom large enough to hold the negative of whatever size is to be copled. This should be placed parallel to the window, say, two feet from it. Next place the camera on its tripod be- hind the negative at a distance of, say, ‘two or three feet from it. Cover the in- tervening space between the camera and the soap box with a cloth. A spare fo- cusing cloth or a dark shawl will answer the purpose very well, but it is better to tack neatly around the edge of the box @ black cambric skirt, a yard or so in depth, which may be drawn directly over the camera, forming a tunnel between it and the soap box. This tunnel should be so f—ed that no light may enter the lens except that which is filtered In through the window and passes through the negative properly fixed in its tem- porary holder, the soap box. The cam- era must be so arranged that the height of its lens is opposite the center of the negative, and it is essential , that the plate bolder of the camera and the nega~ tive be parallel to each other, i When these positions have been proper- ly secured the bellows should be gradu- ally drawn out until the image of the negative shows sharply distinct upon the surface of the ground glass focusing screen. If it is impossible to pull the bel- lows out far enough to produce this per- fect sharpness, it will be necessary to move the camera bodily a little farther from the negative, but if the view when seen on the ground glass is much small- er than desired,” the camera must be moved closer to the negative, but this is & matter of experiment, which, however, requires very little time. Having obtained a rough focus for size and general sharpness with a large stop, a medium sized stop should be Inserted and the focus perfected until the negative is as sharp In all parts as possible, after Wwhich the medium stop should be re- moved and the smallest stop be inserted in its place. Examination of the image on the ground glass will now show it to be almost microscopically keen. When this point has been reached all 1s in readi. ness for the exposure, which should be made on a dry plate specially prepared for lantern slide making, because it has the advantage of being not only very rich in silver but of slower working speed, which for copying purposes is no objection, but on the contrary, a distinct advantage. Removing now the ground glass, put in its place the plate holder, containing the 8%x4 lantern plate, first being very care. ful to see-that the plate is arranged In its kit or holder so that the image when ex- posed and developed will be up and down on the plate across its long dimensions. For Instance, if marine or landscape view, be sure that the horizon line runs the long way of the plate and not across {it, and that the same rule is followed In all kinds of subjects so that the top and bot- tom of any given view or portralt is next to the long edge and not the short edge of the lantern slide plate. This is neces- sary, owing to the manner In which the plates are carried in the lantern, and 1if this rule is disregarded the slides will be shown sideways on the screen instead of up and down. Next, having seen to the proper placing of the plate holder containing the trans- parency plate be sure that the lens is capped, withdraw the dark slide, and, waliting until all vibration of the camersa has ceased, carefully remove the cap, and if a negative of ordinary density be tried, an exposure of one minute, developing the plate with metol hydroqumone, to which should be added a few drops of bromide of potassium solution, as in ordinary de- velopment. This exposure may or may not be right for the first trial, but it will be near enough to furnish a basis for cor- rect exposure under the same general conditions. B o O e R T ) A BILLION AND A HALF OF DOLLARS. WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH IT ALL? HE Treasury Department at Wash- ington announced the other day that the United States possesses about a quarter of all the gold that has been made up into money in the en- tire world. To quote the official figures, there is now in the United States, including treas- ury coin and bullion, $1,200,000,000 of gold \® money, whereas the world’s entire stock of gold money is worth less than five thousand millions—$4,906,700,000, according to the latest figures. This is a larger sum of coined gold than has ever been possessed by a single nation in the his- tory of the world before. Uncle Sam’s children have nearly $18 in gold apiece. But the figures regarding coined gold must not be taken as in- dicative either of the country’s actual wealth or of the per capita of money in circulation. The total amount of money of all sorts In the United States is rising of two thousand five hundred millions, or more than $28 for every citizen of Un- cle Sam, about double the per capita of gold. It is doubtful whether any one can com- prehend the meaning of figures so great as those which are needed to express the present wealth of Undle Sam in coined gold. It would take a laborer earning a* dollar a day 416,666 years to earn a bil- lion and a quarter of dollars and he ‘would have to have the longevity of more than 4000 Methuselahs. If the money had to be earned’by day's work it would be better to put 416,668 laborers at it for a single year. Reduced to avoirdupols, the one thou- sand two hundred and fifty millions of gold dollars now in the United States woulld represent 5,000,000 pounds, or 2500 short tons of 2000 pounds each. Packed away as Uncle Sam packs away his gold In the treasury at Washington, and in the various sub-treasuries, it would fill 2500 strong boxes, each 21 by 18 by 24 inches in size, inside measurement, and containing six cubic feet. Piled up, the gold coin thus accumulated would make a heap containing 15,000 cubic feet. A bar of' gold containing $1,250,000,000 worth of precious metal would be three feet squar: and 300 feet long; erected into a monument, it would be a highly im- posing sight, and would make no mean showing beside the Washington mon ment itself, albeit of about 200 feet less altitude. p ; At two tons to the millfon it would tie 2060 double teams or 5000 horses to haul this mass of coined treasure over the av- erage roads of the country. Fixing fifty pounds as the proper load for the average man to carry any distance, it would re- guire an army of 100,000 to carry the stuft. In ranks of twelve moving in fairly open order, this army of gold bearers would stretch over eleven or twelve miles, or about the length of Broadway on the isl- ‘ard of Manhattan, Strongest Novel of the Solth Ever Written. A few weeks ago, before it was knfl"’ tbat the coronation of King Edward VI would be postponed by the royal iliness, it was estimated that the total cost of the ceremonies would be not far from $7,000,000. At that rate Uncle Sam’s stock of coined gold would foot the bill for 179 coronations and leave some millions over. A billion and a quarter dollars would build eighty Brooklyn bridges. It would build, equip and put in commission more that 400 great battleships. At a milion dollars a_day, the approximate cost of the Civil War, the coined gold now in the country, would wage a war for more than m(rep yeaxrs and fo;;\r months. Comparison of the quantity of £0ld In the United States with the onles of some of the country’s staple products is of Interest. For instance, in round num- bers, the output of coal, both soft and bard, in 1901, was $322,000,000; of pig iron mere than $250,000,000; of silver more than 6,000,000; of crude petroleum morse than sflfis}gogowo?& or corn, wheat and oats nearly ,000.000: of butter than $384,600,000. b Yet the biilion and a quarter of colned gold now In the United States would buy all these products and leave a trifiin matter of 327,875,857 as a nest egg aroun: which to accumulate another $1,200,000,000 or so. It would build 62,500 miles of rail- road at $20,090 a mile, nearly a third of all the raliway mileage' now in the United ates. Yet all this gold could be packed into a very small space, relatively speaking. Its welght of 5000 tons would not furnish a fcll cargo for any one of several of the great ocean liners now plowing the At- lantic Ocean. though It would build, hun- dreds of them. L -+ Free with the Sunday Call published on Nov. 8 l