Motion Picture Classic (Jul-Dec 1930)

The R^j/ of Lady Peel Beatrice Lillie Gives An Interview Betw^een Winks To HALE HORTON docs ADY PEEL," I inquired, polirely, "just how the Lord react to your camera sittings?" Having seen that sad-faced elhn-hke creature, Beatrice LiMie in a "Chariot's Revue," I knew her to be something of a drollster, and subtle as the wind. So when I had been informed by the etflcient Fox publicity force that she might be found in her dressing-roombungalow, I had legged it across the hot lot and at the moment was peering eagerly through a screen door, behind which I presumed my quarry was lurking. "Camera sittings.'" came a voice. "Camera sittings? I rather fancy I miss your meaning. Furthermore, I'm not .Miss Lillie, but rather her secretary, .Miss Walsh, and Miss Lillie's husband is a baronet, and not a Lord, and at present Miss Lillie is sleeping. Won't you come in.'" So I entered; and she reluctantly pushed me through another door, where 1 found my objective stretched out comfortably on a couch. With one eye, she peered at me gloomily. Her face was shaded with sorrow; and I couldn't help noticing that she appeared to advantage in green pajamas. However, out of deference to her exhausted condition, I postponed my ques ^■■■■■M tion relative to the aforementioned sittings. "I suppose," she sighed, "that we must talk about something. It's customary, isn't it, Walshie?" "I fear that such is the custom." Suggesting the Impossible "'TPHEN"— and Miss Lillie indicated a chandelier comJ_ posed of pink grape-vines, intertwined with daFodils and purple roses — "let's discuss that." Obviously, it was impossible. I told her so. With a shrug she went back to sleep. Miss Walsh went into a trance, and your correspondent took advantage of the resulting lull by mulling over a few facts of Miss Lillie's life. Recalling, for instance, that she was the result of a union in Canada between an Englishwoman and an Irishman— and she's reallv comparaf ivciv voting, her birthday fiaving fallen on .May, the nineteenth. Even at so tender an age. Miss Lillie has done rather well, as she actually broke into the "writies." not so long ago, with an article on "Should a Husband Eat Breakfast Alone?" She, herself, however, seldom eats breakfast, with the exception of a pot of tea, and she usually takes it in bed. On the few or, .(sions when she has felt the urge for an early morning r 1 .ist, she is reported to have shown a decided preference for kippered herring and cold canned tomatoes, which are as good reasons as any for abstinence. In spite of later success, her first attempts at connecting with the stage met with repeated failure; she argues that she was simply "no good." Finally, she connived an introduction to Chariot, with whom she obtained an audition and a three-year contract — and it differed from the typical talkie contract in that it contained no six-monthoption clause. Her first big part was in a play called "Now's the Time," aptly titled by an electrician, one presumes, for the lights went out the moment her number commenced — and stayed out, until she had left the stage. The Lyons' Share AF l ER a few more plays, she came to Los Angeles, in vaudeville, and every night during the run, Ben Lyon and his Bebe sat in the front row, wearing long, black beards at which they would stroke, until Miss Lillie had miraculously finished her appearance. No doubt deeply affected by this hairy reception, she trotted back home and got married. {(Continued on page 84) 51