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From under my Hat
Collier did his joking with tongue in cheek. He loved the climate; nevertheless he'd always come to our house carrying a bag of oranges. 'These are sweet; they're from Florida," he'd say.
As a poor lad, Willie never had had enough to eat. When he became a successful star there was food on his table twenty-four hours a day. After he'd given up his Long Island home to live in California, he joined the Chamber of Commerce and climbed aboard the band wagon like the rest of us.
The pilgrimage of the great names of the theater to Hollywood in 1915 was like the Gold Rush of '49, only this time the gold was in pusses, not pans, and days and nights were wild and woolly indeed. At the year's end they learned there was no gold in the pusses either.
Doug Fairbanks' first wife, Beth, found a home for us and engaged a Japanese couple to run it. The Fairbankses also had a Japanese couple, so when either of us entertained we pooled servants. And such service! Doug, dispensing with a chauffeur, drove his own car. It was several years before he started to make real money.
Twice a week we dined at the Fairbankses' modest house on Franklin Avenue or they at ours. A welcome guest was William S. Hart, who became so well known on the screen as a Western star that few remembered how good an actor he was on the stage when he and William Farnum starred in Ben Hut.
There were three major studios then: D. W. Griffith's, Thomas Ince's, and Mack Sennett's, but few independents. The Christie Boys were still making two-reelers.
There were rivalries but no rapier jealousies like those of today. Feuds weren't as much fun then. You were all in the same business, the studios were close together, and sometimes you were in the same pictures. You kept running into your rival daily. If you went to a party, there he was, and you couldn't avoid speaking. I've remedied that situation today. I can look right through 'em and not see 'em. But in the early days no false fine lines were drawn; no social hoop-de-do, and no such thing as a caste system. Mr. Moneybags from Wall Street was no better than wrestler Bull Montana. 62