Old Song

Sweet summer breeze, whispering trees,

Stars shining softly above;

Roses in bloom, wafted perfume.

Sleepy birds dreaming of love.

Safe in your arms, far from alarms,

Daylight shall come but in vain.

Tenderly pressed close to your breast,

Kiss me! kiss me again!

When an oldtime singer sang that old-time song last week, Manhattan forgot for an instant its tap-dancing tunes and wallowed in a sentiment marvelous to behold.

It happened in the current series of Victor Herbert revivals. Sweethearts had passed uneventfully (TIME, Oct. 7). Then Mlle. Modiste was advertised with Fritzi Scheff to sing the role she created 24 years ago. Oldsters could scarcely believe the newspapers and the great electric sign which flashed outside the theatre. But they bought tickets just the same, and went and wept and cheered. For Fritzi Scheff, now 50, still gives the illusion of sprightly youth, still plays the snare drums as the mascot of the troops, still sings bewitchingly "Kiss Me Again." Moist-eyed oldsters marveled and reminisced.

Fritzi Scheff's story begins late in the year of 1900, when President McKinley was ordering events in Washington, when the British were fighting the Boers in South Africa. In Manhattan that year, Bernhardt and Coquelin were playing in repertoire. Mrs. Leslie Carter was Zaza and Ada Rehan was the talk of the town as Sweet Nell of Old Drury. At the opera it was the "Golden Age." Sembrich was singing and Fames, Ternina, Melba and the de Reszkes. It was before the time of Caruso, Fremstad and Tetrazzini. It was way back in the year of the now grandmotherly Louise Homer and of the Viennese Fritzi Scheff.

"Squirrel," "sunbeam," "little devil." These were some of the diminutives which were supposed to distinguish the saucy, small-voiced Fritzi from the big-chested titans of the opera. But diminutives did her no more harm than the rumored tiffs with Sembrich and Emma Fames, whose ears she claimed to have boxed. Instead they brought her a vogue all her own. After three years at the Metropolitan, Charles Dillingham offered her the then fabulous sum of $1,000 a week, a company of her own and roles made to order. Immediately, and despite the objections of her new husband, Baron von Bardeleben, she accepted and became the light opera star of her day."

Fritzi Scheff veils, Fritzi Scheff corsets, Fritzi Scheff pictures in all periodicals. . . . Her legend grew like any other and soon the world knew that her waist was just 17 in. around; that she approved agnosticism; that Mrs. William Astor dined her and occasionally the Vanderbilts did too.

Mlle. Modiste and "Kiss Me Again" came in 1905 and brought her greatest fame.

Fritzi Scheff, prima donna, prospered but Husband von Bardeleben went into bankruptcy with his postcard & valentine business. Soon after came a divorce and Novelist John Fox Jr. (Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come, Trail of the Lonesome Pine) succeeded him, was in turn succeeded by her manager, George Anderson, who was divorced in 1920. Since then Fritzi Scheff's fortunes have varied too. Good comic operas have been scarce since the days of Victor Herbert. Tales of temperament have frightened some managers. She has been forced to occasional vaudeville towns, to doing Modiste over the radio, taking a turn at legitimate dramatics. The brilliant career of a captivating person might thus have tapered away into nothing had it not been for last week's revival. Now, due to its success, Modiste may go on tour again.