From under my hat (1952)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

son she became the first vampire of the screen for William Fox. They both made a fortune from her films. A Fool There Was is still talked about in many quarters, and the corners of my mouth go up when I think about it. When Theda made a return to the stage years later she chose as her vehicle The Blue Flame, which, when it reached Boston, lit up the Hub's whole sky. Police had to restrain the panting Harvard Hot Dogs from carrying Miss Bara from the stage door to her cream-colored Rolls-Royce— modest gift of her producer, Al Woods, as a slight token of respect for the money they were making. Woods offered her a tour of the country, in a private railway car no less. They would have made a mint, but Theda knew the audiences and money would be waiting the next year. And the next. First she wanted to savor the adoration of Broadway. New York had seen many flames, but never one like The Blue Flame, so the critics extinguished it quickly. The Flame didn't leave a scar on Theda. She is now one of Beverly Hills' most accomplished hostesses. She and her husband Charles Brabin live in a charming house, unpretentious but beautifully furnished. Few of the presentday motion-picture stars are their guests, who are more apt to be from the Social Register. Well, The Quaker Girl closed in Albany, and I ran off secretly and married Wolfie. I couldn't help wondering what the neighbors in Altoona were saying. Probably, "Just trunk of that; why, Elda used to cut steaks for me in her father's butcher shop!" 3.9