The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1897-01-06

1NEIIE GUlIbfkT.
around her knees, her head bobbing about
necessarily and with smile that fire.
quently rippled into laughter, Yvette told
me her story.
"To begin with" she said, "I don't
really know whether / was born in 1866
or 1867. Why? Well, you see, my foster
brother doesn't know either, and there Is
a years difference between u.s. That I
know. And what 1 also know Is that at
the age of / had already begun to sing.
sang the repertory of Theresa and Judic-
LES Canards, La Premiere Feuille' and
others-with a very strange and power
full voice. The people who henrd me could
not believe was only child. But my
great triumph was La Marseillaise.' Can
you sec me singing the national hymn?
"Oh, my songs of childhood-I remem.
Der them all, for I have a remarkable
memory. Heavens, how stupid they werel
Hero Is fragment of one of them that I
recall
"Vous pretendez que 80 suis bette,
J'en sais plus Que vous re croyez-
Jo sails qu'on penso avcc In tetc,
Et qu'on marche ayec les pieds.
Every one used to laugh 90, but not L
In fact, never laughed whi,o singing
MY father, whom as an excellent musi-
clan, often accompanied me on the piano.
remember that when i was 10 he took
me to Chelles, whore he had bought lit
tie house near the water, and that while
there / used to sing Les Deux Pigeons
to the nelghbors, who encouraged me by
lavishing cakes and swcetmeats on me. 1t
makes mo sbudder when / think of the
amount of sweets consumed then. Two
years later l took fancy for Amiati's
song, La File d'Auberge, and sang 1t
from morning till night. / frequently an
noyed my mother with it to such a point
that she sometimes said:
Listen, Yvettc. If you promise not to
sing Amiati's song today, 1 will put a
franc in your savings bank.
II had the misfortune to lose my father
at Is, and remained alone with my moth
or, who had no resources Speaking Eng
lish with some facility, became interpret
er In large fashion emporium. But my
general health was so bad that / had to
give up my employment. In the mean
time my mother had begun to make some
pretty pearl embroidery, and IL was who
carried it to tho homes of her customers.
Many ladies who now invite me to sing in
their drawing rooms remember the little
girl who sold them embroidery, and they
nre especially kind to me.
SAT the end of a year was employed as
q salesgirl at the Magasin du Printemps,
bat my Ill health once more compelled me
to.abandon my work 1t was then that
thought Of the theater.
Yes, l said to myself, there Ia only
the theater left to me- but only on one con-
dition, and that Is that Yvette leads very
quiet life. And Yvette has kept faith with
herself.
"How did the idea of going on the stage
come to me? Perhaps 1t was because of
the compliment that Fugere, the baritone,
had made mo ono night when seated on
the seashoro at Coutainville. was singing
in loud voice lie Lao of Lamartine 1
had stopped on hearing some one approach
behind me, who suddenly said, You have
very pretty voice, mademoiselle.
"Yyetto with pretty voice! 1t makes
you laugh now, doesn't 1t? I was none
the less proud. Think of It'll The COM
pliment camo from n singer of the Opera
Comique, for had just recognized Fugere
Two years later, while / was touring tho
provinces with Baron of tho Theatre du
Vaudeville, playing in 'Decoro and La
Sarabande, l received another compl-
ment on my voice, this time from Barral,
who heard me singing on the train and
said:
Lyon could coin money singing sem
timental ballads.
Decidedly was fated to be singer
On my return to Paris made up my
mind that I could no longer continue to
earn only 100 francs n month, and I re-
solved to tompt fortune. Twas Fortunate
ly on vacation at the time.
"'Yvetto, you are going TO make a tour
of all the music halls, said To myself.
And did. During week spent my
evenings in the cafes chantants At the
end of eight days my resolution was taken.
l went t|'sce the director of the FL Dorado,
q nice and fat old lady, who was positively
amazed when | addressed her In this way:
Madame what Is now being sung in
tho music halls Is positively idiotic. It
has neither rhyme nor reason. In fact, 10
has no earthly excuse for existence. The
songs Of tho present day have not Kept
pace with our literature, and the result Is
. serious anachronism. At the present