SARAH BERNHARDT IN HER TEENS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2451, 6 March 1901, Page 64

SARAH BERNHARDT IN HER TEENS.

(Albert Schixz, in Lippincott's Magazine, U.S.)

The mother could not take care of little Sarah, and put her out to nurse. When she came back, she was brought up in a rather unorthodox fashion in the little shop of the Rue de I'Ecole de Medecine. She seemed to enjoy, above everything, adorning herself with old artificial flowers, rags, and bows of ribbons, the spoils of the millinery establishment. The students of the university, passing daily before the door, found much amusement in watching the ugly little creature in her fantastic attire.

At seven years of age she was sent to the Convent of Grand-Champ, at Versailles. There she met Sophie Croizette, her rival-to-be at the Comedie Francaise. Sophie, with as proud and ambitious a spirit as Sarah, had the equipment of strength, beauty, and a superb complexion, while Sarah was meagre, yellow, and of an aspect singularly unprepossessing. From the very first instant, as if by a sort of intuition, they took a tremendous dislike to each other. Two parties were soon formed in the school, with Sophie and Sarah as their leaders, and not infrequently the peaceful convent yard was transformed into a battlefield of Homeric violence. Sarah was the more audacious of the two, but was generally crushed by her physically stronger rival. The Sisters were at their wits' end ; all punishments proved unavailing, and no means could be found to conciliate the two implacable pupils.

One day the fight had been unusually fierce, and the result an awful drubbing of poor Sarah. • Contrary to everybody's expectation, however, she did not say a word, out went to her class apparently perfectly calm, with only a certain flash in her eyes that did not announce altogether good things to come. But she did her work quietly- Nothing more happened that day, nor the next, nor for several others. Words of mockery, even from Sophie, seemed to be indifferent to her ; at least, they received no answer whatever. Finally the Sisters themselves came to the conclusion that some kind of conversion had taken place in the mind of the once intractable girl. But no, nothing of this sort had occurred.

It was about the tenth day after the memorable struggle. The chaplain of the convent was gravely explaining before his class some chapter of the Catechism, — it may have been the one commending forgiveness of offences, — when suddenly Sarah arose, strode over three or four benches, reached the seat o r her enemy, both her hands extended like two claws, her fingers armed with nails that had not been cut since the last encounter : two ferocious strokes, and the handsome face of Sophie was covered with blood and in the most unenviable shape. Mademoiselle Croizette, to-day Madame Stern, still shows on her cheek the indelible mark of the passionate character of the great Madame Bernhardt.