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MOTION PICTURE CLASSIC
listen to, and he’s immensely popular around the studios.
He isn't in favor of censorship of films because, he says, they cut some of his best work. And he believes that Motion Pictures are destined to outshine the stage, because they reach a wider audience. And the greatest improvement he can suggest in Motion Pictures is — more salary! (All who agree with him signify their pleasure in the usual way. The “ayes" have it ! )
Mr. Reeves has brown hair and eyes, and he stands about five feet five inches and weighs about one hundred and fiftytwo pounds.
“And do you approve of woman suffrage ?”
I queried, thinking that, being English and therefore accustomed to militants, he might have an original opinion to express. I wasn’t disappointed.
“Sure; let ’em vote if they want to,” he answered readily, with an air of “It-doesn’t-cost-me-anything-so-why-should-I-care ?”
“Why do you approve?”
“Because I believe in letting the ladies have anything they want. Anything to please them, say I,” he responded, very politely.
I had a sudden suspicion.
“You are married, aren't you?” I ventured.
“Yes,” he answered, “awf’ly — married !”
So perhaps that’s a partial excuse for his attitude toward suffrage !
“Tell me something about your stage career,”
I ventured.
“Everything,” he
said, "it it will
interest you. I began my show-life bv being bound over as an apprentice, my master being a famous English acrobat and pantomimist. For months I was a mass of bruises and sore spots” — he rubbed his back reflectively— “and then I began to get
the hang of some of the acrobatic stunts.
“I made my American debut,” he went on, “as a very much inebriated gent in ‘A Night in an English Music Hall’ ; after that my audiences would not allow me to draw a sober breath, so to speak, and I’ve been the poor skate, who’s too full for utterance, in a half-adozen vaudeville sketches and in the ‘Follies of 1908.’ ”
An extra bright twinkle shot into his eyes. “In the ‘Follies,’ ” he reminisced, “my act was laid in a subway station, and I’m trying to get home, carryi n g several large packages in my arms, and a large one unci e r my belt, also. Everything that can happen to a helpless, well-meaning boob, happened to me ; and all I know is that the ‘house’ never could get enough of my fool adventures.” Billie Reeves ventured a prophecy. “Some day,” he said, “I’ll put this act in pictures, and you shall see what you shall see. If they dont let me, I’ll star in ‘Hamlet,’ sure as you’re born.”
THE MESSAGE OF THE SCREEN
By GEORGE WILDEY
O Youth, hear you the Future’s siren call?
Her voice, like tinkling silver, charms the ear;
The roseate tints of promise ’round her fall And draw your eager footsteps ever near.
So bright the way, the day so rosy-light,
You may not glimpse the hidden snares of night.
0 untried Youth, I would not have you rush With blind, unseeing eyes upon your quest;
1 would that sudden peril might not crush The eager spirit glowing in your breast.
So rough the road, that all enchantment seems,
’Twere well to rouse you from your careless dreams.
For I shall show you clearly, not alone
The golden heights that seem so lightly gained,
But what of bitter travail men have known.
Thru which their high achievements were attained, The cruel stress and striving, envy’s sting,
The sharp-fanged wolves of evil crouched to spring.
But thru it all, the endless storm and strife,
As clouds are meshed with sunrays, golden-spun, So shines for him who seeks the best in life The joy of vict’ries fairly, nobly won.
It is for me to point the way aright;
For you, O Youth, it is to see the light.
Come, then, and sit with me a while, I pray,
And learn to know the heights and depths of life; Learn how to keep unscathed the clean-cut way And gird your spirit for the coming strife.
Know, too, the race is but for him who dares To pluck the golden grain from out the tares.
And if among the countless throngs that stay To read my message thru unto the end Be some whom I shall help along the way,
With chastened soul no storm of life can bend, If only here and there be such a one,
It may be said of me sometime, “Well done!”
( Twenty-eight )