The San Francisco call., 1904-06-26

Ask the local caramel contingent who
should be the happiest woman in the
world and with one accord they Will
twitter, Helen Bertram. Of course"
And why? Miss Bertram, one time So
prano Of the Bostonians, now a full
nedged vaudevillaine. is the wife of
y. J. Morgan. Stupid. ask them an
other.
7 haven't had much to do with the
wives If matinee heroes-not that the
only Morgan's heroism is by any means
confined TO the Caramelites-so I
thought ] would betake me Orpheum-
~ ard this week TO see Miss Bertram.
Girls. he was there, I dinly made
him cut in the gloom half a mile or so
away In the orchestra. as . went IN.
The plump shadow at the piano, with
high light on his bald crown, was
cf course Mr.. Rosner and the tall,
shapely apparition at Mr. Morgan's
side the happiest woman in the world,
Helen Bertram. There was a desultory
note or TWO coming from the piano
not. surely --Tessie. you are my only,
o-only ye"-and then silence. That was
nay opportunity. / stumbled through
the darkness-such dark. after the
dazzling Of the morning sun.-and
moment later was one of the little
Iembrandt-like group about the piano.
And then. girls. ] had the honor OF
shaking hands with Mr. Morgan-we
are old acquaintances, with Mr. Rosner
The cleVerest trick orchestra leader I
know Of and with Miss Bertram. the
only stranger OF the trio. There was
trouble a-brew discovered. Like many
another explorer Of the vaudeville
ulds Miss Bertram had found her
equipment lacking in fitness. Her
songs had been voted o'erfine for the
audience. and she was in search Of the
popular ditty. The 'Tessie, you are
nay only I had heard has no illusion.
and Miss Bertram came up still hum
ming the thing
How dye do?" she laughed, putting
out warm, substantial hand. The
lght gIinted or her little white teeth.
and on pair of the merriest, prettiest.
6ypsy gray eyes you would want to
see. -Tessie, YOU are my only, only"
she hummed- Isn't II couicaI TO sing
that sort Of thing2 Helen Bertram in
search Of 'chune'-trying TO please
good material, eh?"
'Scrumptious." / said "and do you
come before or after the dog?"
Just after" the other singer smiled.
Mike" the weeks dog, sings tenor. as
everybody knows.
And what does Mr. Morgan think
about all this?" / asked.
L know nothing about it" that gen
tleman said. He was sitting on the
orchestra rail and looking rather as
II he would have preferred to be some
where else. Nor did his looks belle
him. Mrs. Morgan told me afterward
that. her husbands objections to her
vaudeville venture were lively, if po-
lite. and that she intended TO be a good
girl soon and give il up.
4 know nothing Of music, Mr.. Nor
gan hastily deprecated.
only Of musicians I murmured,
noting the prideful glance that few
over Miss Bertram's way. Girls, it's
no use Mr. Morgan is MARRIED.
Are you not" I ventuIed then, TAX
ing in, as my eyes grew more used to
the dark. a very tanned and hand
somely filed out actor, are you not
plump"
The actor allowed, dOubtfully,
'Maybe-but I've just lost sixteen
pounds"
Miss Bertrams s quick and laughing
Il think he looks splendid. He's just
been roughing it in a Washington log
ging camp" made me understand that
one must not call Mr.. Morgan-er-
plump. Nor is he. He is only
plumper.
1T is tremendously becoming.
though 7 whispered to the lady. and
then Mr.. Morgan left US to our chat.
We went upstairs to the Orpheum
boardroom and took seats at the table
where they decide whether or not the
Mabel McKinleys are worth their salt
their very expensive salt.
BY the way-about that fabulous
$3.50 q week that Miss Mckinley was
supposed to be paid here and that I
guilelessly stated she was paid. Well,
she was. We have seen the bond. We
have been saving up the information
for some months to faUnt it afront
Of those kindly contemporaries who
accused US Of the sin Of credulity.
There nowi Whether Miss Mckinley
was worth it is another question. The
Orpheum folk would, however, take two
Of her at the same price any day they
could get them. So I suppose she
must have been worth the money to
them. At any rate, il was paid, for we
have seen the bonds,
But al this is not Miss Bertram,
who sits waiting. comely figure, in
her cool gray walking suit. her round,
sparkling face olive against the franz
ing white Of her veil.
do you ever have TO look pleasant
when you're hUngry?" she began. as
The artist came in for his loot I've
not"
You've not breakfasted," ] inter
rupted despairingly. "Of course not.
Nobody ] have seen lately has break
tasted VIII you tell me why? Just
think how il makes me feel. hungry
p-oman-worse, a hungry man.-to in
terView.'
She explained. as she posed. smiling
easily at the artists request that she
had had 2 headache and didn't want
any breakfast, but that she and Mr..
Morgan were to eat after the inter