"MY FIRST APPEARANCE ON THE STAGE."

WHEN I was two years old, the "Chicago Progressive Lyceum" was the " Sunday-school" I attended, with my brothers. The exercises were somewhat different from other Sabbath schools. Children were invited to recite, calisthenics were performed, marching by the school was a regular incident, and lessons in Proverbs and a great many other things were done to amuse and benefit the little folks.

Out of wonderment at seeing others recite, naturally grew the wish to "speak a piece" myself; so after several visits, one Sunday, when the committee of one came to our class in making the round for names of pupils and their recitations, I said:

"I want to speak a piece, may I?"

Why, what can you speak, child?”

"Oh, dest a piece.'

So later on, when among the others, I heard "A recitation by little Loie Fuller" announced, I slid down off my chair and trotted to the rostrum, mounted it on hands and knees, bowed, as I had seen the others do, and began what some neighbor children had taught me to recite:

Mary had a little lamb." Then came the tug of war. I couldn't get down the stairs. Before anybody could reach me, however, I came to a conclusion, and, seating myself on the top stair, slid down nice as you please in the every-day fashion of boys and girls. Of course, being oblivious of the fact that my little skirts did not move as quickly as I did, (naturally my little red flannel panties and yellow skirt caused great laughter,) I was much offended at the fun I thought they were making of me. I looked disdainfully at the entire audience, shook my fist at them, and majestically walked to my seat, declaring openly:

"Stop! I speaked my piece."

Tot as I was, I was indignant, I suppose, at their small appreciation.

During the week, about Wednesday, the president of the Lyceum called at the house, and complimented mother on my nice recitation. She looked at him aghast, and said, she didn't understand. I was in the room, and jumping up, said:

"Oh yes, ma, I speaked.”

Then it all came out. The boys and I had forgotten to mention it.

The next Sunday mother happened to go, and sat with the spectators at the end of the hall. Imagine her surprise on hearing announced,

"My Little Prayer,' by little Loie Fuller."

And when, a moment after, she saw me crawling up the stairs, she nearly fainted; and

when, a moment later, she saw me kneel down, put up my little hands, close my eyes, and repeat the prayer she had taught me (the only thing I knew besides "Mary had a little Lamb'), and finish, and, bowing profoundly, slide down the stairs, displaying the same colored flannel aforesaid, she was so ashamed that she could have been knocked down with a feather, and given me a good rap in the bargain. Luckily, she could not reach me.

Well, from that dates the most checkered career girl ever had-enough to fill a dozen volumes. My scrap-book, kept since I was six years of age, is a curiosity indeed. And so the story goes, of an every-day struggling girl, whose only hope is to do her duty to herself and others the very best she can.

Loie Fuller.

William Candidus William Ludwig .Alonzo Stoddard Myron Whitney William Fessenden William Hamilton

William H. Lee

..Bertha Pierson Cornelia Van Zanten Emma Juch Emily Sterling Pauline L'Allemand

Epicharis, a Freedwoman. Chrysa, her Daughter.. Agrippina, Widow of the Fmperor Claudius, and mother of Nero, Lupus, a Roman Gamin...... THE production of Anton Rubinstein's grand opera of Nero," at the Metropolitan, by the National Opera Company, on last Monday night, and again on Wednesday night, may be set down as the greatest triumph of its kind which has occurred in this country. This is especially gratifying, because it is the performance of the highest opera in our native tongue. Our Mother England has not yet arrived at this privilege. We have certainly never seen Italian opera given here with such grandeur and completeness, and the German opera, while approaching very near to it in its every performance, did nothing which equaled this representation of "Nero." Certainly the choruses of the National Company are by far the best drilled and best voiced of any ever seen here, and as far as the principals are concerned, the entire cast is remarkable for fine and noble voices. It is a question now whether the combination of resources does not place the National Company at the head of any in the world! It will, at least. not be denied that even as a singing company, it will rank with any. A Patti, or a Gerster, or a Nillsson, do not make an opera troupe. The gorgeousness of the mise-en-scènes, the grand (chorus, and

the superb performance of the principals, supported by Mr. Thomas's magnificent orchestra, and the whole under the immediate direction of William Hock, who placed the original production of "Nero" on the stage in Hamburg, under the composer, renders this performance a success of a higher order than anything before exhibited to an American public.

As for the score of "Nero," it is full of much lovely music, churchly and dreamy. The choruses and processional music are grand in the extreme, and the ballet music is laden with beauty and exquisite phrasing. There are a number of entrancing duets-and one lullaby, which is as sweet as the dreams of childhood.

As for the acting, it is the best I have seen on the opera stage. As a general thing, opera singers are pretty bad actors, but in this instance it was a positive success in tragedy acting. The large and handsome proportions of the male singers, and their vigorous voices, seemed to make half a dozen John McCulloughs on the stage at once. The whole performance is, in fact, heroic. The women, besides having admirable voices, are of most attractive presence.

For nearly four hours the stage presents a series of superb tableaux and moving pictures. The juxtaposition in costume and color, the impressive scenery, and the almost heavenly music transports one to such romance and thought that your final exit into the street lets you down in a way that is exceedingly commonplace. To-day's life then suggests a disappointment with one's existence.

In fact, our knowledge of ancient Rome enables us to produce it better than Rome itself! Fileur.

Mr. Candidus as the hero Radames was in the best of voice, and proved a very acceptable tenor, though his acting was almost inane, and feeble to the last degree. Miss Pierson's voice has great resources, but she evidently found the part of Aïda a strain upon her, as she did not, toward the last acts, fulfill the promise of the first, when she became more dramatic and less musical. Her performance was, on the whole, however, full of color. Miss Van Zanten, who commenced by forcing her voice un

necessarily (which, as we understand this was her first appearance before a New York audience, can easily be overlooked), soon asserted herself, and won approbation by the clearness of her notes. These two singers received enthusiastic applause for their duo in the second

act.

Mr. Ludwig was strong both vocally and dramatically as the King of Ethiopia. He, of the men, at least, may be said to have presented the most finished and vivid impersonation of a character. The High Priest, Ramfis, of Mr. Whitney and The King of Mr. Hamilton were highly commendable.

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Verdi's Aida" is a comparatively long opera, and tends in more than one act to drag. Of course, Mr. Thomas's intelligent orchestration would have done much to avert this, but one other thing made it utterly impossiblethat was the luxuriousness, the grandeur, of the mise en scène. For when the ear was wrong the eye could feast upon the beautiful picture the stage presented. We were transported into Egypt. Chambers in kings' palaces, the temple of Vulcan, the banks of the Nile, the entrance of the city of Thebes, were set before us in the most artistic style. The brushes of Messrs. Gaspard Maeder, William Schaeffer, Leon Molus and R. H. Halley have indeed accomplished wonders both in the correct design and masterly coloring of the scenery used in the seven scenes of "Aïda." Of the costumes too much praise could not be invented. Never on any stage have we seen more harmonious coloring. The ideal wedded to the historical Egyptian pattern was most effective. And Mr. Hocks's arrangement upon the stage of this large concourse of priests, soldiers, slaves and dancers was strikingly fine. The triumphal pageant which accompanies Radames on his return, in the second act, was fairly dazzling.

SARAH BERNHARDT.

Scrutator.

SARAH BERNHARDT is an actress of extraordinary power, but she is also an actress who cannot and will not conceal her art. Much of the enthusiasm which the admirers of her work profess can be easily discounted. Were she unknown; if her private life was not public property, with all its eccentricities held to gaze as a huge advertisement, there would be a calmer and more valuable discussion of her merits. As it is, her following, while large, is limited to a class of people who are not influenced either one way or another. I have no intention, however, of allowing this woman's private life to operate on my judgment in the criticism of her acting. That is a thing apart,

but I simply say that her character has so impressed thoughtless writers as to cause their pens to run away with their brains.

I have said that she does not conceal her art. Neither does the potter or the most delicate artisan conceal his. But on the stage there is something further desired than the mere indication of acting. She has not the natural finesse in many things which I think will be found in Modjeska; and she has not the natural emotion which made Clara Morris in her prime likened to a second Rachel. Bernhardt's tears are marble; Clara Morris's were hot and choking. Bernhardt paints all her shades of emotion and Clara Morris was seen to have felt them. Yet this singular French woman towers above either Modjeska or Morris in her power, her tragic strength, and her eloquence. She draws her characters as Meissonier would paint them; every line, every detail, as perfect as art knows how, but she leaves nothing to the imagination, and her business, while wonderfully conceived and executed, is plainly acting.

And I say this: Bernhardt has but little tenderness. The underlying mechanism of her force is insidious, and there is not a single factor in her art-which in combination may produce a certain brilliancy-that is at all magnetic, or seems to come from the heart. But her elocution is perfect, and there is an exquisite harmony in her voice and motion. What potency there is in her dramatic embodiments is not significant of a nobility of purpose, or is it fascinating, excepting, perhaps, as it is subjected to dangerous personal charms.

As

'Fedora' was made for Sarah Bernhardt. Its carnal picture can only attract morbid thoughts, and this especially distinguishes Bernhardt's acting of the part. Fanny Davenport has made it familiar to the people of this country, but robbed of much of its French atmosphere, and played by an American company it seems to be sifted of its impurity. Miss Davenport's Fedora and Mme. Bernhardt's are two different things, anyway. produced at the Star Theatre, the fact that Mr. Abbey's management claims to make money seemed to have no evidence. The stage setting was disgraceful. It is the custom of New York people to decry out-of-town theatres, yet Sarah Bernhardt would have played with better stage surroundings in most every other city. But as Mr. Abbey gets the lion's share --if not the ghoul's-it is his business to make a presentable stage. No blame should be attached to the Wallacks for this shortcoming. Mr. Abbey hires the house as it stands, and he must of necessity provide a decent welcome to his guests.

In "Camille" Bernhardt is seen at her best.

There is, perhaps, no other living woman who can do the part so much justice.

Fileur.

"THE COMMERCIAL TOURIST'S BRIDE." TO SAY that the action of the piece is continuous and lively, and that it works up to a proper climax, is about all the praise that can be accorded the work of Messrs. Frederick Hale and H. S. Hewitt, which bears the above title. The situations from beginning to end are strained, improbable and absurd, and the slang which floods the dialogue vulgar and flat.

Miss Herndon does herself an injustice in appearing in such trash. Her stage presence is effective, as is her elocution, and she dresses becomingly. But in such a play as this it is hard to judge of her acting, as by force of circumstances nature was dropped out of the question. Everything was unreal and untrue. She was seen entirely at disadvantage. Mr. Lane, however, was less affected by the farcical element of the piece, and his character sketch of the commercial drummer was very acceptable. Miss May Thompson made quite a hit as the French maid, with brogue, Camilla Celeste Muldoona, more often called Jane. She did some telling business. Mr. Will C. Sampson had rather a "fat" part in Mr. B. Innocent Smith, but he did not avail himself of the opportunities offered; his performance was rather dry. Mr. Jacques Luckstone made something out of the minor part of Wing Wing. The rest of the cast were tiresome.

"THE DEACON'S DAUGHTER."

MISS ANNIE PIXLEY, one of the most charming soubrettes upon the stage, has for the last four months been making a triumph in Archibald C. Gunter's new comedy. The proper opening having been secured, Miss Pixley will appear, for the first time before a New York audience, at the Union Square Theatre in April, as the heroine of what has been pronounced by the press from Boston to New Orleans as one of the most fascinating plays ever seen upon the stage. It is said to be suited to Miss Pixley in every way, giving her a brilliant opportunity to display the vivacity, fascination and go that have made her such a favorite an actress.

The play will be beautifully mounted at the Union Square, as the scenic artist has been at work for a number of weeks on the several elaborate sets. The "Deacon's Daughter" is said to be even more bright and funny than Prince Karl," Mr. Gunter's last successful comedy.