The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1895-12-15

dav book Of 1895. It bears upon it the
name Of one of the greatest writer's OF
the day. but, better still. it bears upon
II these words: LAM des femmes' the
friend Of women-Alexandre Dumas. n
great man, a great writer, q. great reader
of the human heart a great reader that
most difficult of all things, of the heart
of woman And more than that, a stu
dent and a successful one, of the heart,
brain and body of women, for he well
knew the effect that the one had on the
other. He pictured woman as she is, but
ALWAYS he was pitiful to her. Always he
forgaye. and always he recognized that,
when she committed the sin which women
loolx upon as the sin of all sins, it was be-
cause she loved too much, and he main
tanned that, first of all, the man should
be the one to forgive her. Every one Of
his plays teaches that. Always there is
the friend who looks at things clearly
and who says, in some way or other, For
give, my friend, forgive this woman.
Pardon Is an attribute of God, try to
reach close to God
And yet, if there ever was strange
story. it was that of Alexandra Dumas
Until he was a grown man he had no
name except that which had been given
TO him in baptism. for he was one among
the thousands of children who cannot say
MY mother" without blushing. The day
came when his father recognized him
and was proud of him; was generous to
him and assisted him; but always there
hung over him this dark cloud that en-
Veloped him from his birth. And even
before his birth. Do you believe in he
redity? 1t seems to me that, if you
think. you must.
Years ago, in Paris, there was young
man. ambitious. imaginative, magnifi-
Gently strong physically, and poor. All
his days were spent in the public libra
ries, studying out the histories of France.
finding out each little story connected
with the kings and queens and building
q romance about it, Full of life. he soon
spent the small amount of money he had.
Occasionally a few francs were earned
by story, or an essay sold to one OF
the journals of the day. This young
man grew poorer and poorer. The pub
fishers laughed at his novels and refused
10 read them. The day came when there
was nothing left. Beore him there seem
ed only starvation. That he would not
submit to. All of one long day he work.
ed in the library, and went home only
because he knew there was pistol there.
Such a homei A garnet room at the top
of a miserable house tenanted by poor
writers like himself thieves and wretch
ed women. He entered his room, found
a match, the last one; struck it to light
the bit Of candle that was to show him
how to aim correctly. The match went
out. 1t was fate. He laughed long and
loudly. Just then he heard a voice in the
his door. A woman's voice it was that
spoke. She said: My neighbor, do you
wish light? Take one from my can
de" A little seamstress, a trim girl
sette, stood before him and pleased his
eyes. He chatter with her; he found he
could laugh, and laugh merrily. He was
still young. She followed him into his
room. The door was closed. Alexandra
Dumas, pere, never forgot that night,
when all the world was reading the Three
Mousquetaires," but can you blame Alex
andre Dumasa fills, for having in his nat
ure much that was dark, since his father
was thinking of killing himself and his
mother was unhappy and half starved2
But always this child of a great author
and poor seamstress plead for women I;
always his pity went out TO those little
children against whom the worlds hand
IS raised before they are born; and surely
no better words can be put upon the tomb
stone of Alexandra Dumas than those
which formed the title OF great play
1t seems strange that while we are all
thinking and talking of this great writer
his plays should be put upon the stage
and the leading parts played by woman
whose rendition of them would have pleas
ed their creator. Can more than THAI be
said? She is an interesting woman, al
most as. much of a girl as was Juliet and
yet with Juliets ability to read the human
heart.
You know who I meah-Olga Nethersole.
you look at her, when you hear her speak
and some one says English" you smile
in disdain. Then there is a hint of the
Spanish blood, but your smile comes just
the same. Once, years ago, I visited in the
north, and with the early springtine went
out to look for arbutus. One in our search
party came to me, awe-Stricken, and held
IN his hand what was strange to him in
this cold country, but which knew as the
bloom of the south-the passion flower
How did it come there? Who can say? BY
chance q 10 n r
by a balmy wind. That is Olga Nethersole.
She Is the best type of French woman,
and she comes from England. The voice
is soft and sweet, without any accent.
The eyes are pitiful. They look up to
you and ask for your love and sympa-
thy, and never word is spoken They
are wonderful eyes, pure eyes; eyes that
tell their own story of goodness and of
seeing goodness in other people which is
so much better than announcing ones
own virtue. But the plays the thing -
Last night it was Camille. Before that it
was Frou Frou, and before that it was
Denise. Such wonderful women! And
each so unlike the other. l say to this
citizen of the world, for England can no
more claim Olga Nethersole than can
France or America, How do YOU feel
when you play a part? Are you Denise?''
came quickly. Honestly, I could not saw
TO myself / will be Denise. l will be Frou
Frou, or l will be Camille but, when ]
say their words, when l am living her
life, before 1 know it 1 am overcome by
the strong personality and become an
other woman. 1t seems as if whether ]
willed it or not. the spirit of the one wo-
man came into me. filled my heart, brain
and body, and speak and move
as if were her because, for
the time being, l am that very
woman. If you said to me, Cough j
could not do it But when l am Camille
] never give it a, thought. The couel
comes naturally, because know I am dy-
ing Of consumption, and that cough is
one of my pains and one of its terrors
Then there is Frou Frou. 1 have beer
asked why | did not conceal or gloss
over the ENJOYABLE side of her nature
] couldn't. / would not be Frou-Frou
That was the woman. Just as she had wor
your love and your forbearance bv her
sweetness she did some thing that madC
you conscious of the other side of her
nature. What a woman would call thf
kink in her. About the stage Do vor
know was afraid to come to this coun.
try at hrst? l thought I ought to wall
until had reached the point l mean 10
and was perhaps 40 or even 50. bur that
by accident, / did come is a fortunate
thing for me. There is something in tbf
very air that eXhilerates me, sometime
mat urges me to do my best, and 1 near
/ had an odd experience in Boston with
2ne OF It's great scholars. / had played
Juilet-Which / have never seen PLAYED
and did something which was not In ths