The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1897-12-19

bow himself out. Then Mile. Barna
settled herself in a coy corner and
became Marie Barnard, with VOIurnin-
Gus inquiries of her old home-San
Francisco.
How 1 regretted that I could not fill
her ears with the gossip of her native
city, quite as she had rested me with
those notes of sweetest cadence. She
gave a little touch to her skirts and
leaned back among the pillows, with
her left hand on her head. Her gown
was very artistic-a long loose affair
of claret velvet edged with sable, a
front of lace cascaded on light blue, a
tiny train and sleeve that possibly
reached below the elbow, though they
were pushed up far out of the way.
She is a singularly attractive woman
physically, with beautiful figure. She
is tall and has a queenly carriage. Her
head is well poised, and every move
ment full of grace and expression. Her
| face is strong, with a rather large
mouth, a straight nose and big brown
| eyes, which look right at one, though
with a kindly expression.
But aside from the beauty of the
woman there is an atmosphere of un-
firing energy and devotion to her pro-
fession. She is very young for her
honor and achievements, but the very
| earnestness of her face is deceptive,
and lends a strange dignity and age
After settling herself comfortably
she plunged into the recital Of the old
days in California.
DO you know" she said, my i'm
petus for this work was given me in
dear old San Francisco. 1t was at the
time of Nine. PATHS last visit to the
| Tncf NTr- n erox q
large reception to the prima donna,
and L was asked to sing. When had
finished Nine. Patti came toward me.
1 shall never forget how my heart beat
! as saw her approaching. She hap
| pened to be at one end of the long sa-
Ion parlor, and 1 had sung at the other.
Mime. Patti put her arm about me,
saying, My dear child, you sing beau
| tifully. You have such a future in your
voice. and she used this smile, which
was so strangely expressive and has
never left my memory: Your voice is
to me as velvet embroidered most
beautifully in gold Wasn't that odd?
Then she told me I ought to study
abroad and fit myself for the grand
opera.
This was great compliment, and
1 appreciated it. 1t fixed my ambition.
When 1 went home my mother and
had long talk on the matter, and we
decided to adopt music as my profess
sion, with an ultimate purpose of
grand opera singing. was only II
then, and it was Christmastime
The May previous I had graduated
from Mills Seminary. When 1 look
back upon the old days my heart grows
| so full-there were SO many dear
| friends who helped me to live up to my
| talent. Mrs. Mills was SO good to me,
and Nine. Julia Rosewald, my first
teacher, was one of the greatest fac
tors in whatever success have or may
attain.
That Christmastime was a memoir
able one to me. l was singing in EN-
manu-El Temple and the Calvary Pres
| byterian Chuch. Louis Schmidt was
organist in both places. He wrote a
Christmas carol for me. 1t was the
most beautiful carol have ever heard.
At this same Christmastide I first sang
his carol, which was also the first mu-
sic that had ever been written expressly
for me. So, you see, everyone was
stimulating my ambition.
After this the MendeIssohn Quintet
came TO San Francisco. Mr.. Lyon
heard me sing and engaged me for his
with the quintet club, and sang in ali
the large cities of the United States,
British Columbia and the provinces of
Canada for two years. 1 then went to
| Boston, where 1 continued my studies
and sang in church.
Then I sang for Mr.. Damrosch, and
he told me that 1 must go to Europe
and study for the grand opera. I told
| him l would treasure his criticism of
my talent, and as he had paid me the
| compliment to tell me I should go
abroad would certainly try to do So
Very shortly after this 1 left for
London. The first musicale at which
1 sang there was really my London
debut, and I received a diamond ring
from the hostess.
Il did not stay long in the big city,
but made my way to Paris, and there
put myself under study with the cele-
brated Ziska. and later with Sbriglia.
This was in 1894 Sbriglia, you know,
taught Jean de Reske. Last winter I
was engaged by Sir Augustus Harris,
under a three years contract, for the
Royal Opera at Covent Garden. This
was the realization in part of my
dreams. I went to London the 1st of
April, and a month later, you know,
Sir Augustus Harris died.
Il have been telling you all Of the
happinesses of my musical career, but
of the discouragements, the disap-
pointments, the heartaches none
equaled my sorrow at the death of Sir
Augustus Harris. 1 lost a good friend
But, you see, it was under such cir
cumstanceS that 1 could least afford tc
indulge in regrets, so L went down to
Italy quite alone, with not even So
much as letter of recommendation.
went to the agents myself, and as q
result I got an engagement in Milan
and Rome, and sang in the Italian
Grand Opera during the entire snrino
season.
Then I returned to Paris. Did vo,
know I was in the Hotel du Palais dur-
ing that awful fire? Yes, and I assist.
ed ever so many guests through my
window. My courage won me many
friends and such material tokens 81
gratitude as brooches and rings !
have very handsome diamond brooch
in the safe; also several diamond rings
Louise, hand me my mosaic brooch >
suddenly said Madame in French r.