The Combustible Clive

1910

As long ago as the middle of the eighteenth century, a famous Georgian actress, Mrs. Kitty Clive, felt the call of the nerves commonly associated with modern women. The whole green room, according to the author of "Garrick and his Circle," feared her tantrums.

Her character stood high, but her clean, wholesome nature and honest heart scarcely offset her temper. She was the one player Garrick feared, and he did everything he could to disperse her nerve storms, or, if they broke, assuage them. It is among the legends of the English stage that he said to her:

"I have heard of tartar and brimstone, but you are the cream of one and the flower of the other!" — Youth's Companion.

Expressions of a Prima Donna

1906

America is delightful!
Yes, football is too rough.
New York is wonderful, magnificent!
American women are the most beautiful and charming on earth.
Nothing is better for the complexion than Smearine.
The tones of the Pianoleon are exquisite.
I always take Doperine for headaches.
Eau de Swash is the finest hair tonic.
The Gasmoblle is the best made.
Denticide is excellent for the teeth.
I can't breakfast without Boneless Oats.
N. G. corsets are the only proper ones.
Never travel without Sneezerine for coughs and colds.
I fervently recommend Scrubolio.
By all means try Nervosis.
Yes, this is positively my last season on the stage.
I expect to get the decree next week. — Smart Set.

Madame Melba Loses Control of Her Voice

1914

Great Prima Donna, It Is Feared, May Never Sing Again

BOSTON, March 8. — Madame Nellie Melba, the famous prima donna, has lost her voice and there is danger that she will never be able to sing again. She was scheduled to appear here last night and when she appeared on the stage her voice failed her and she was only able to speak in a whisper. Physicians were called at once, but they have expressed no certainty that she will be able to sing again.

Madame Melba, whose maiden name was Helen Porter Mitchell, was born at Melbourne, Australia, in 1866. Her father was Scotch and her mother of Spanish descent. She received her education at the Presbyterian Ladies' College in Melbourne, and later studied in Paris under Mme. Marchesi. In 1882 she married Charles Armstrong, a son of Sir Andrew Armstrong. She made her debut in Brussels in 1887. She took a part of the name of her native city as her stage name.

A Prima Donna's Triumph

1878

Patti had a stirring time of it at Naples. When she arrived they declined to receive her at the Hotel Royal, and she had to go to the Nobile.

She was in high dudgeon, refused to rehearse, and in consequence found an audience as cold as stone. In less than an hour she sang the whole house into warmth, enthusiasm, frantic delight — it was the "Traviata" — and the next morning the papers made positive excuses. Nay more, the committee of the theater came to pay her the unusual honor of a visit in state. She refused to see them.

Expectation was on tiptoe as to her reception the next night. It was feared she would be hissed. Not at all. She sang the "Barbier," and with the same effect as before, her voice acting on their premeditated sulkiness like the rising sun on mists. In the scene in which she has to spell the name of Rosina she kept one high note so long that the unhappy baritone who accompanied her — and not a bad one either — had to stop three times for breath, she mocking him with a look the while.

Naples gave up all idea of resistance and took up its old position at her feet. She received $1,900 a night, with a right to half the surplus when the receipts exceed $3,900. On the night of the "Barbier" they took $5,700 at the doors; she therefore received an extra $950, or a total of about $2,850 for the night's work, not counting her bonus of revenge!