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WANTED TO BE A LADY
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across his nose. We told each other we were only going to give him a bang-up meal and send him on his way, but I'm afraid Mr. Jones has a way with him. He stayed. Not only that, he's practically the boss of the whole outfit now.
It was Mr. Jones who was sending me chasing into Hollywood that afternoon, leaving behind a couple of bushels of plums all ready for canning. You see he was joining Bette Davis' Tailwaggers and initiations in a doggy outfit like that can't wait for mere household details.
The meeting had started by the time we got there and Bette Davis was talking. If all her fans could hear her I don't think there'd be a homeless mutt left in the country. She drags out my hankie even quicker when she's talking about dogs than she does when she's giving one of those Academy Award performances of hers. And that's going some.
Not wanting to disturb her, I tiptoed to a seat in the back and it wasn't until I sat down that I recognized the woman next to me. She was wearing the kind of tweeds you know are imported even before you see the label and a casual little hat that couldn't conceal the money that had been spent [Continued on page 69]
Upper left: When Frankie again returned to Hollywood, she was an entirely different person and had even changed her name. Above: "He looked so bewildered this morning when I told him we were married. I'm sure he thought I was just a gold digger who had married him for his money, but even then, thinking that, he was so nice and polite and all." Right: Every Saturday night she'd be down at the Cocoanut Grove dancing in the Charleston contests and sometimes you'd see her at the beach with some of the mechanics from the studio.