Motion Picture Classic (Jul-Dec 1930)

Where Men Are Men And Bears Are Rug! Hurrell Let the wind howl and the tempest shriek: Reginald Denny and his wife, safe in the mountain cabin, have all the comforts — and none of the cares — of home Dyar An island retreat seventy-five miles from the nearest railroad, telephone or movie theater — but there's a catch to it. Wallace Beery has an airplane handy Trout are scarce around Hollywood, but not eighty miles away, at Noah Beery 's Paradise Trout Club, where, as above, his g^uests can see trout right under their noses 74 served out on those trick little verandas, hardly think they vk'ould let you build a cam' fire anywhere around. You have a little rest and maj^be a swim in t pool or a set or two of tennis, and then you aj ready for the day's sport. One nice thing aboi it is that even the amateurs get an even break^l the fish are so nicely trained. You see, they af raised in hatcheries, right there on the place, ar they have enough sense to know that when anj thing goes plop! in the water, someone has prolj ably brought them their lunch. Live Fish Market WHEN they are big enough to catch, th are put into neat little pools, up t stream a way (sealed up with concrete, so th they can't escape), and there they wait to bi hooked. There are gravel paths and bench here and there, where you can sit down and fis if you get tired. You don't have to wade in th water. In fact, I hardly think you would b allowed to do so. You bait your hook and drop it in the poc (none of this fancy business about casting flies! and the accommodating little trout swam around and crowd each other, trying to swallov it. When you have all the fish you want or can to buy (it usually takes about thirty minutes) you trot back to the hatchery and turn in you: pole and basket. When you are ready to g( home, your catch is handed to you, all nicel) cleaned, laid in neat rows, wrapped in surgica gauze and packed in a pretty box — like the kinci you get at a really good confectioner's. The fish go on your bill, at thirty-three cents each, along with the rental of the poles and other things. It is suck a treat to get out in the wilds that way and fend — or whateyer it is — for yourself! Sea-Fever Sufferers THEN there are the people who like to rough it near — or on — the ocean. They have nice little shacks, 'way ofF where they can hear the boom of the waves and run around in pajamas or bathing suits and just be bohemian and natural and unrestrained. Simple little summer cottages, they have. Most of them are hardly any bigger than the resort hotels that cluster round them. Of course, they make themselves comfortable — in a primitive sort of way. Bebe Daniels and Marion Davies and George Bancroft have their own swimming-pools at their beach retreats — just in case any of their guests should be too timid to go in the big rough ocean. Miss Davies has a good many rare orchids scattered about her cottage, too. Just because you are roughing it is no reason why you shouldn't have a touch of beauty here and there. Then there are the people who go in for ranches. The big Western types. Like Grace Moore. Miss Moore rented a ranch when she first came to Hollywood. She explains that it really is a ranch because they raise things on it. But it is only about three blocks from the studio and it has tennis courts and a swimming-pool and a big, flagged patio with tables and swinges and striped umbrellas strewn over it. It look.s {Continued on page 82)