Motion Picture Classic (Jan-Dec 1920)

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CLASSIC The Hidden Egyptian (Continued from ftagc 47) in the service of lier country, too. She drove an amhulance in New Ycjrk, meeting the ships as they came in and carrying woumled to various debarkation hospitals. And, slie will tell you, there was nothing in the least depressing about it. The most tragic things someliow be■ came beautiful. "That wa.s when we were all excited, of course. When there was no call for the ambulance, I used to go to the hospitals and talk with the boys there. I dont think that they realized what it would mean to be crippled for life. There was one little Irishman, for instance, who had lost both his legs. He never grumbled about that, but he used to make a fuss about the most ridiculously little things — things you would wonder he would even think of in the face of his big tragedy. Yes, he was a giant in big things, this Irishman, but he was a baby in small ones. He used to hate the hoy in the cot next to him. This boy had twenty-seven wounds all from shrapnel and had won the Croix de Guerre and he always insisted on havii.g his coat hanging on the back of a chair near his bed so that everyone could see the Croix. He was kiddish, too, this boy and I suppose that that is what got on the nerves of the Irishman — " she smiled reminiscently, a smile that grew into a laugh and then she explained. It seemed that the Irishman had a habit of talking about battles he had never been in at all, tho he never said a word about the one in which he had lost his legs. "And now it is all over and we must all begin living in prose again. I hope I get some really big and cheerful stories, You dont know how ditificult it is ! Nearly every scenario we get has the same old 'wronged woman' in it somewhere." The first thing you notice about Edith Storey is Iier deep humanity. She has a gift for fitting into any scene, or becoming one of any group of people in any walk of life, that is far beyond ordinary adaptability. It is as tho she had, herself, belonged to every nationahty and lived thru every possible experience in the world. Edith Storey, a New Yorker by birth, went on the stage when she was eight years old. She appeared in "Audrey" with Eleanor Robson, in "The Little Princess" and in "Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch." She joined the Vitagraph Film Company when she was about thirteen. "That was at the time when J. Stuart Blackfon u.sed to direct and Albert Smith, the present head of the company, cranked the camera. When the men finished acting they used to don overalls and build the set they were to work in next day. I remember that Maurice Costello was the first actor we had who refused to wield a hammer. He insisted that he was an actor, not a carpenter, and soon the 'Seventy-three) others followed suit and the profession gained new dignity." In addition to doing child roles and "pages" she was the official "stunt" actress. She could swim, ride, fall or climb to any director's satisfaction and so she was frecjuently called on to do all of them — ("Once, when I was about fourteen years old," she said, "they needed an old lady to fall off a bridge. With the aid of a grey wig, I was the old lady!") She is quite as athletic now as she was when a little girl and, incidentally, she hates to cook, cant cook, and wont cook. She likes to live rather on the edge of things. Her Long Island home is some miles from anywhere, and when I saw her recently in Los Angeles she had just rented a bungalow within a block or two of the city limits — some miles from anywhere, too. It is a pretty place, however, with big high ceilinged rooms, plenty of windows and a low, broad cement porch. I found her cutting dead leaves from a fern. Sooner, her favorite dog, was there too ; a cuddly white ball curled up on the porch sound asleep. Sooner had just given her quite a fright, she told me. It seems that she had left the hotel and rented a hou.se especially for Sooner and then, on the first day they moved in — (her mother and brother are both with hfcr now) — Sooner disappeared. "I was afraid he had gotten lost and would never find his way back," she said. "I went all over the neighborliood calling him." Instead of a whistle, her call for Sooner is a short, shrill rolling note blown thru her puffed lips— ("Hl-bl-bl Blbl-bl") — "I walked blocks bl-bl-bl-ing at every step, but still, no Sooner. I suppose the neighbors think that I'm crazy — " He showed up all right but not until evening and he had another dog with him. It seetns that the first thing Sooner does in a new neighborhood is to make friends. You see, then, that Edith Storey's home atmosphere is simple and wholesome ; no "dust of Egypt" about it anywhere but just a little touch of the exotic in her own personality to lend additional charm and mystery. The Answer Man I^uviE. — Of course th.Tt's my picture at tile top. Yoii ask if I liavc the five wits — common wit, imafiination, fantasy, estimation and memory. I have the latter, for I remember yon. Clara Young is out West. Bn.i.iE n. — The more, the merrier! Yes, write to him. That's right, art is long, why not hair? Thomas Chatlerton is on the stage in San Francisco. Bi.viEY UY Herself. — Dont think it was Betty Ulvthe; pel haps Ruby de Remer. F, I.. H.— No. Richard Barthelmess did not play in "Experience" nor "The Man Who Came Back. ' Berenice. — An interview with "' "lllam Desmond? Yes, in J.anuary, 1919. POWDER or ROUGE COMPACTS A DAINTY GOLD FINISH DOLLAR VANITY CASE For 60 Cents SEALOGRAMS One Madison Avenue New York City SPECIAL OFFER WITH EACH CASE Mail coupon to-day with 60c In moiifji order or 2c stnmps to the address ahore, stuthtft irlilrh you want, Jtottgc or Powder, and what shade. 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DONTE CHEMICAL COMPANY 27SA Troy Arcnue, Brooklyn, N. Y Cuticura Stops Itching and Saves the Hair ,; 111 J ,_.. r. ~, „. _. ^ AH dr..B«l«u, Son,, r. ointment » AW. T«Icnm2r,, Sttini'ln i'Hch fro« of "0»Ucw». 0«pt. B, B*itOB.