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for May 19 30
21
Jf A T E R S
By Herbert Cruikshank
rather than for them. Like the Irish used to be 'agin' the governmint.''
If one raves to Lillian Gish about the beauties of California in general, and Hollywood in particular, she may flutter at you and may be run out to pick daisies. She may tell you that Holly wood is merely a place to go for motor rides and hear talkies. And the Duse's favorite drama critic, George Jean Nathan, may boop-oopa'doop about schnitzels, sphygmomanometers and Mencken.
If one suggests to Lilyan Tashman that Hollywood is a pleasant place in which to. have one's being, Lil'll gather the chinchilla closer about her blonde beauty, elevating the chin and giving out the chill-a. A place to. work, Lilyan will tell you. That's what Hollywood is.
The cinema city is 'Home' to Joan Bennett, (left); but she also likes her New York vacations.
The eloquent and dignified silence of Max Reinkardt, the great German producer, (right) as he left Hollywood was more impressive than a theater-full of loud speakers.
Fannie Hurst (below) visited Hollywood to approve the screening of her book, "Lummox." But she hasn't been back since, has she?
For ought else — N'Yawk.
Joan and Constance, daughters of Richard Bennett, of the Shelbyville, Ind., Bennetts, will mentally class you with Harry Richman if you evince a love for the brown and boney (not bonny) hills of old Hollywood. These sophisticates may describe the old town that started the world's greatest industry in Jesse Lasky's barn, as White Plains upside down, or something of the sort.
If you ask Fannie Hurst about Hollywood, and she doesn't walk out on you, she'll probably just lift the eye-brows and tell you parables about how she believed the angels to be clothed in gold and found them — to put it delicately — en dishabille. It's all verra, verra dread' ful, to hear Fannie tell it. (Continued on page 112)