The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, February 15, 1903, Page 22

) THE AN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1903. ‘ IN SOMETHING SERIOUS By Gu ' ANNA HELD IS LONGING " "TO MAKE APPEARANCE isard. ADAME would be up in o moment; would I wa érawing-room to me. “Madagt€ was very tired with the opening night. She knew she o'clock, but—well, she had said 12 ld be only a few moments.” wever, to give madame a half our for eacred function of the toi- | ette, and was rewarded on my return the gracious picture of her little lady- | ship in all the glo the elaborate | deshabllle in which the Parisienne de- ights. A touch of rouge on the small pe—a special compliment to me I infer— completed the get-up, chiefly otherwise of palest blue silk and lace. And as she =at down by the brightly blazing fire, after | we hed exchanged “how-d'ye-dos,” ma- | dame’s little hand deftly plucked up the hem of her peignoir to show exactly | enough of the pink silk sheen underneath. | There were rings on the little fingers, the | umbled mass of light brown hair was in | carefully artistic disorder, and es she sat | there Madame Anna was & whole sermon | on the dearest ast of the Parisienne—the art of being beautiful. Her way of It, | too—for diverse are its cults—is the way | of the oldest Parisienne on record, that | of the sieek, conscious, voyly provocative | prettiness of madame the Medicean Ve- nus. And If you desire a foll, a few doors eway were the big, careless splendors of | our Californian Venus, Nance O'Neil. But madame—for Anna Held in private | life is Madame Ziegfeld, wife of the clever | ung manager responsible for the color- | ful loveliness of “The Little Duchess"—is not content to be regarded simply as the #tar of a beauty show, which “The Little | Duchess” frankly is. She takes herself | quite seriously as an artist, and we were | =oon talking gravely of “le sacre feu.” Slanting her long eves—gold-brown, shot with flecks of sunlight—at me, the little | comedienne told me of her artfstic begin- | ing fifteen years ago. e sacre feu, the ‘holy fire’ as we | French people call 1t; I always had 1t she said. “I first went into the chorus and soon had to begin to show other girls how to do. No, I was not at the Con- servatoire. I studied diction and singing in private, and soon my own little mag- | netism and talent brought me to the front.” “How long ago is it since you came to | of crestes perfect complexions | and prompts the skin to per- form its highest functioms; it imparts that fresh, healthful | glow that 50 often disy, | with youth; removes i i\ TAN, SUNBURN, PIMPLES, SLOTCHES, MUDDINESS, MOTH AND LIVER PATCHES Sold by druggists and general dealers at Gc a botv‘.:; or direct from us, | " for S0c. "’r‘r?:l bottle and @irections for l0c. E. B. HARRINGTON & CO. Los Angeles, Cal. ! 'TLE FRENCH COMEDI- EX WHO IS F PRI 1 . 2 LIFE AS MM SLD. | for Anna Held, | light, looked not & day more than 20, | on our car—we travel w <o different. THen T thelr ways; and t at me- if I had ns 1f he peopl a scene where a t her mother is entrapped. 1 I know, but people o see things 1 ‘The Little But 1 should to play one ‘Papa’s Wife' here, to show—" e pleased very much e Duchess,’ " I hastened to reas- “We were not sure you would come here again , I could not resist,” sald madame, » mooch; but I eould not from America. Just e here. But some of do not like my comedy."” Tastes differ,” I originally allow, Maybe 1 am shocking?” madame piquantiy queried. I do not know. But do not pay people to come to see us; hess.’ night hey pay.” Then, still on the defensivi for the moralities of ‘The Little Duche she asked: “What is there to object to? The girls’ little bathing gowns in the first act? Yeu see, on the beach, wild ‘things, if that is it. And the girls are all good, nice girl all with their fathers, mothers and sweethearts. They do not have to go on the stage, and it needed much diplomacy to get them to come all the way from New York. It should be appreciat®éd when we give so handsome, fresh show—all this way from ew York. I think we have done well Everything was made pretty and clean for here.” “It looks as emart as new paint” I heartily subscribed. “‘Seyenty of us there l‘e; it takes much work to Keep things nice. And we live like 2 family. I have not an enemy,” the little lady proudly stated. “I am happy all the time when I keep my health.” “You have to be carerul of that?” “Yes, with all the people depending on me,"” sighed madame. Then she laughed. much more | “When we were coming out I got very tired and warm in the car and went out to sit on the steps for tresh air. Then Ziegfeld came rushing out and cried: ‘You will get {1l and ruin me.’ I laugh and tell him I never have been ill. Then he make me knock on wood for fear of bad luck! I believe not in such things. We started | out on the 13th, we have chirteen girls in the ‘Sadie’ chorus, and Friday is my par- ticular day of luck#Bah!" and madame ily flung a challenge to luck. ou want another ‘Sadie’ girl, don't you, by the way?” “We have already 50,000 applications,” end they send them all to me,” madame sighed. “And how do you manage to keep so young amidst all your work and worry?” ronting the full morning “I think it is the make-up,” she sald quite seriously. “It Is good for one's com- plexion. Do not look at my two pimpl 1 bave them to match on each cheek! pointing to - two almost imperceptible beauty spots. “We have such a good chef in the Olympia, President Roosevelt's private car, you know—and I eat some little dainty bit more than I need, for ft is so good. But to return, I can look in one hour ten years older if 1 worry. Worry is worse than anything for one’s beauty. “Can vou always help worrying?” I asked the little philosopher, who must have helped a deal of it by her looks. “Cela depend,” she owned. And then I wished her “Good morning,” | and us I towered above her at the door uld not help saying: “You truly are a little thing?" And madame replied: “But I am well built, n'est ce pas?” Music at the Park To-Day. March, ‘“New England’s Flr;;st",... the .. wess0. . Meyerbeer erry Wives of Windsor”.. Cradle of the Deep” vess «Arranged by Laurendeau Storm 1h the Alps lang,” land,” “Hungary,” return to Berlin. THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL. JOHN D. SPRECKELS, Proprietor. SUNDAY .- g o Address Communications to W. S. LEAKE, Manager ......FEBRUARY 15, 1903 Y the report of the majority of the Assembly Committee on Prisons and Reformatories, every charge originally made by The Call agg\inst the abuse of punishment and torture by the straitjacket method of discipline in the State prisons has been amply confirmed. There is to be a later report by a minority of one, but it is safe to assert beforehand that it will not refute a particle of the evidence on which the majority report is based nor assign any valid ex- cuses for the torture. 3 A portion of the evidence concerning the unprintable and it is not possible to make the public understand the full abomination of the evil. Even in the official report the committee in describing the process of the punishment could speak only in veiled terms. The uttermost it could sav is, “Your committee informs you, sir, that the in- humanity, cruelty and degradation resulting to the unfortunate victim, and also to the officers who anner inwhich the straitjacket torture is applied is administer the punishment, are far beyond the comprehension of any one who has not had an op-y | portunity of investigating as we have had.” Excluding the more disgusting features of the torture and dealing only with the cruelty of it, enough is contained in the report to justify the statement of the committee: “Whether or not the Assembly accepts the recommendation to appoint a special committee to make a thorough investiga- tion in this matter, we would suggest, and most earnestly recommend, that the straitjacket as a means of punishment in all prisons in this State be prohibited by statute.” In describing the punishment the report says: “The straitjacket is what its name implies, made of heavy canvas, with lacings in the back, and is long enough to extend from the neck to the ankles. It is used by lacing it around the body of the victim, his arms being in the pockets and his hands down in front of him, placing him face down on the floor and then lacing the jacket as tight as one, two, three or four men, with feet or knees on the victim's back, may desire to pull the lac- ix}g.& the number of men depending upon various circumstances surrounding each individual case. '].hu\‘ tightly laced, the punishment consists in compressing the body and internal organs. The vic- tims are usually laid on the back in a dungeon and allowed to remain for many hours in the jacket.” For the rest it can be said only that the victim thus tortured is often subjected to further torture |_)_\' being forced while bound in the jacket to swallow water and epsom salts poured into his mouth from a spoon. The effects of the punishment are often such as to cripple the victim for life, and in some cases ll-(‘lil]l results. The committee reports several specific instances of permanent crippling of the arms of victims, and of another case it says: “In the case of James Deare we learned that he was found dead in his cell within twenfy-four hours after being released from the straitjacket. From the evidence taken by your committee, it is not prepared to report that death resulted from inju- ries received by the yse of the straitjacket, but such is the opinion of those conversant with all the facts in the case.” : Such are the salient features of the report. Concerning the frequency of the use of the pun- ishment the committee says of San Quentin: “We find that in over 300 instances the straitjacket has been applied as a punishment under the present Warden.” Of the other prison the report says: “At Folsom your committee found that the straitjacket had never been in use until about three years ago. It was in use for about two years, Warden Wilkinson deciding to discontinue it about one year ago. During the time that the straitjacket was in use we found that one Robert Smith had been permanently crippled in his right arm and hand and sustained other injuries. In the case of Morris Weiss, alias Weitz, who was a tailor by trade and worked at the same up to the time he was put in the straitjacket, he sustained such injuries to his hands and arms as the result of said pun- ishment that in all probability he will never be able to work at his trade again.” That is the record upon which the Legislature is called upon to act. California cannot per- mit the exercise of such tortures in her prisons even upon the worst of her criminals. The recom- mendation of the committee should be followed and the straitjacket as a means of punishment in the prisons of the State be prohibited by statute. A DIPLOMATIC VICTORY. LL the preliminary work in the way of settling the Venezuelan controversy has been satis- factorily finished. The agreements have been signed and the blockade has been called off. Hereafter the case will be marked by few if any difficulties of a serious nature. The Mon- roe doctrine has been upheld and the rights of foreign capitalists and men of business in Venezuela have been assured. Good results may be expected to flow from the precedent thus es- tablished, for it provides a means by which the industrial and commercial exploitation of the coun- try can be carried on without giving occasion for any attempt at military conquest. The attainment of this fortunate solution was not brought about without difficulty. The dip- lomatists representing Great Britain and Germany were subjected at home to a good deal of caustic criticism and condemnation. The British Ministers were assailed by the opposition for having formed an alliance with Germany, while the German Government was attacked for permitting American interference with the matter in any way whatever. In each case the attacks were of a na- ture so formidable that the Ministers found it necessary to réply to them in official utterances. The replies bore a close resemblance to one another. The British Minister stated to his coun- trymen that in international affairs it is always better to act in harmony with other nations than in isolation. e added that Germany is too powerful to be ignored and her world interests are too large to permit her to be passive when her subjects are wronged, and therefore it is wisdom on the part of the Ministry to act in concert with her. The German Chancellor in réply to his critics said the United States is too powerful to be ignored where her interests are concerned, and thdt as a matter of fact she will not permit herself to be ignored. He added that American interference in the Ven- ezuelan controversy was not a matter of option with Germany, but a fact' with” which the German Government had to deal as best it could. The significance of the two statements lies in their close similarity. Local statesmen may in- sist upon the duty of their country to act for itself alone and without respect to others, but (iiplo- matists know that such action would not only be unwise, but is virtually impossible. Steam 'and electricity are bringing the peoples of the earth so closely together that the nations are not separate except as political organizations. Their interests run together and are interwoven all over the world. Diplomacy has to take into account all the mutual interests as well as the temporary antagonisms that arise here and there among the powers. Each must concede something to the others. It is in that way wars are a\'oi_ded. As Prime Minister Balfour said in his recent speech: “The concert of powers is but a clumsy machine, but it keeps the peace; and if the peace of Europe is to be preserved and the”cause of civilization go forward, it must be by the increasing use of co-operation among the powers. P JOKHS AND POBTRY. NLY a short time ago it was announced that a number of leading humorous writers in this country were discussing the advisability of forming a combination to raise prices for their wares. Now comes a report from Berlin to the effect that seventy of the chief poets of the empire have actually formed a union for the purpose of obtaining better pay for their labors and their inspirations. A The fact that the two movements have heen disclosed almost simultaneously may incline some people to believe there was prearrangement in the matter, and that we are on the eve of a world-wide coalition among men of letters. It is not to be disputed that on the face of things there are a good many circumstances tendin; to confirm the theory. Were such a coalition under consideration the promoters of it could hardly have acted with more tactical skill than by putting forth the humorists in America and the poets in Germany to make the first demonstration on the skirmish line. An advance of poets in this country would have amounted to nothing, while an ad- vance of the jokesmiths of Germany would be ridiculous. A strike of humorists in America, how- ever, would be a seriqus matter, for no one ever supposes that our funny men are capable of strik- ing a real joke at this age of the world, while a general cessation of poetry in Germany would doubtless be equally serious over there. 5 . Yery little information has been given thus far of either movement. Doubtless the promoters are saving up the details for copy to be used when times are dull. It has been stated, however that the German poets will insist upon payment of not less than 12 cents a line for the cheapes; form of lyrical effusions. The American humorists will of course demand higher pay for shaking the chestnut tree. Perhaps the price of jokes may be raised to fifteen cents a line. Should the skirmishes result in victory we may expect to hear orders for a general advance all along the line, and thex} the day of redemption of the poet and the wit will be at hand. Firmly resolved to writ;_ neither jests nor rhymes, they will face a dull world with heroism, and by going to work will event- ually attain a position of respectability, & ONDERING just what I would first ask Cavaliere Pietro Mas- cagnl, I sat waiting for his man- ager, Wiil Greenbaum, in the little office at the Palace Hotel. I had about decided upon the impending subject of Strauss when Mr. Greenbaum came in with the announcement that Mascagni had beenlate in getting through at Marchand's. Would I would, and regaled on the way with storfes of the gifted Italian I soon found myself at his table. Signora Mascagnl graced it, and Mascagnl sgttled his hap- py manager and myself at his right. The introductions over, Mr. Greenbaum set the ball rolling by asking how the re- hearsal had gone on—it was the second rehearsal for this week’s symphony con- certs—and the fat was in the fire. Br-r-r-r! it sounded like the sputter of fifteen firecrackers as Cavaliere Pietro Mascagni, Signora Pletro Mascagni and Edjtor Almagia all tried at onte to in- fofm the patient impresario in prestissimo French that America was all for money; that only Italy cared for art; that Cali- fornia was no better than the barbarous East, and other vivace. As Mr. Greenbaum was just fresh from in forming me of Mascagni’s deep satisfac- tion with the conditions here, of the con- ductor's joy in the orchestra gathered to- gether, he was unable to reply—even had | the chorus given him any chance—for a few astonished moments. “But what is the matter in at length. Mascagni, accenting his sentences by setting the glasses all a-jingle with stac- cato bumps on the table, to the signora’s evident approval, said (presto agitato): “That four first violins had left on the stroke of twelve; that they were unable therefore to go on with the symphony: that two of the principal cejll had said they were unable to attend a rehearsal to-morrow, and that practically the world was at an end in consequence!” These dear enthusiastic children of the sunny south! the intervals of illustrating how one first violin would use an up bow and the other a down in the absence of proper rehears- al, ordered coffee—that the manager was too much exercised to take and I to do without. " “Vous m'avez ecrit—-"" “] wrote you that you should have a good orchestra, sixty men. Haven't you got them?’ the manager interrupted in his turn. but my four first violins!™ cagni wailed. “You asked for ten first vielins and I gave you twelve,” insisted Mr. Green- baum. “But If they do not stay, what can T do? With such a band—absolument excel- lente; if 1 fail it will be all Maestro Mas- cagni's fauit. In Kansas City, with poor men, 1 do not care. I give the ‘Intermez- zo,’ bah! anything! It docs not matter. But here, the men play! Such horns! Ale! Such violins! T would not be afraid to take them anywhere. But if they stay not; oh, and iy ’celli for to-morrow! must make them come, Monsieur!” “I have done all 1 could,” protests the manager, “paid them for thelr time for all the eight rehearsals; I can't do anything more”—and it did rather occur to one that | if the local men will not sacrifice a little for their art when there is a really big opportunity like the present their policy is a short-sighted and unworthy one. I hadn't had time before to get a good look at the conductor in the thick shower of controversial sparks, him very blue of eve, sirongly jawed hair dark and upstanding, broad of shoul- der and rather tall. A light blue tie pleas- antly repeated the blue of his eyes, a sapphire ring headed with a crown of dia- monds was among his hand jewelry, and his little finger of the right adorned with the long nail that is a naive symbol of aristocracy. The Signora is ypically Itallan, with the flashing brown eyes, high cheek bones, olive pallor, and inconsistent light bair that the Latins so much admire. She takes the liveliest in- terest in her husband’s career, and when- ever there appears the least likelihood of with things mundane pours afresh the oil of divine discontent upon the situation. Mr. Greenbaum, then expressing his Mascagni assured him that because he left the rehearsal at 11:30 to attend to other business he was “un voleur d'art,” was then informed that he was not per- sonally blamed by Signora Mascagni, Edl- tor Almagia and the conductor, but enly the conditions. Quite as evidently it was true that the Latins were having a normal, everyday good time, that “kicking” is a constant and wholesome exercise with them. Not that they were not serious, with a central seriousness that made that littie round table at Marchand's the pivot of the universe for the time being. And that saving, unhumorous seriousness is with the rehearsal and was now lunching | g0 there? I and Editor Almagla of L'Ttalla also | he wedged Mr. Greenbaum's relieved “Oh!"” brought | on another torrent, and the signora, in | Mas- | You | but now found ! hand was | the maestro_becoming supinely satisfied | willingness to call off the concerts, as | Evidently this was true. | MAESTRO AND MANAGER WRANGLE AT LUNCHEON ABOUT ART AND MONEY By Blanc_he&;:rtington B il | i FAMOUS ITALIAN COMPOSER, | i WHO SEEMS TO ENJOY BE- I ING IN TROUBLE. 1 - S what s golng to make this week's con- certs memorable to a degree—provided we get them! It was amusing then to see Mr. Green- baum fall in with the Latin excitement. He set the glasses jingling himself as he announced the gathering of the fine chorus that i1s to sing in the Rossini “Stabat Mater.” The signora began to hum the “Cujus Animam,” and Mascagni asked who was to be the tenor. The manager-mentioned the name of a, well-known singer. Almagia, gravely pleased with the pros- pect of another row, sald he was sure the maestro would not accept him. He was not Italian, and only an Itallan could sing the “Cujus Anilmam.” Mean- time Mascagni was fluting a falsetto edi- tion of the well-known aria, much to the amusement of ex-Mayor Phelan, who, at another table, was prolonging an ap- | parently very enjoyable meal. “Who is your chorus conductor?’ asked | Almagia. ‘‘Signor Martinez,” said Mr. Green- baumv“lvhank God, an Ttallan,” in a dra- | matic aside. “But there isn't an Italian tenor." ."\\'h:: of 7" Almagia asked. “He sings, oh, so lovely!" | “He keeps a saloon and restaurant,” be- |san the manager, but hastily threw up his hands, as the editor, the conductor and his wife each excitably deplored such | philistine objections. “Well, if you cars to transpose the whole thing a tone lower, | have him. He can't sing it otherwise.” Mascagn! agreed that that was impos sible and in the ensuing peace I was to take my leave. As he saw me going the conductor asked if there was any- | thing I wished to know. “I'm afrald to ask,” T sald. | — Townsend's.* | Ex. strong hoarhound candy | Townsend's Callf candies, 3¢ a pov boxes. A nice pre 639 Market st., Ps ia glace frult and in artistic fire-etched nt for Kastern friends, ace Hotel bullding. Spectal information supplied dally to | buginess houses and public men by the | Press Clipping, Bureau (Allen’s). 230 Cali- | fornia street. Telephone Main 1042, » Both at Rest—T suppose,” said thae | stonecutter, “you'll want ‘Requiescat in | pace’ at the bottom of your wife's monu- | ment?” replied the bereaved Mr. | “make it ‘Requiesco in pace." " “That means ‘I rest in peace,” doesn't nre “Yes, “Husbane Peck, I want you — Catholic to sign Standard that and We have confidence in you and in our piancs— that is why we ask yo@ to try our instruments. Wa are willing 3 5 this month. Nememb unity closes on the 1st of Mar First selection is best choice. 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