Motion Picture Classic (Jan-Aug 1919)

MOTION PICTURE CLASSl “Oh, dear,” said Olive, “I do ho]if'! I wont have to see any more peop today. I look such a fright!” | Which started an argument on tl iSi impossibility or possibility of such thing. At its very height Myron Sells' nick entered quietly. \ “When you two girls finish cha h ting,” he said, “Cosmo Hamilton a waiting outside to see you, Olive I” “Oh, dear, what does he want?” v “To talk over ideas for your ne:i[i story. Surely you’re not afraid of ai mere man.” “Afraid?” said Olive, as she ro vigorously to her full height of fi' feet four. “Have you forgotten that fti can beat both you and Jack at wres ling? Afraid of a man! I guess m Any woman can get the best of a m: if she wants to.” Myron and Olive stood side by sid both belonging in the bantam-weig class. “See my star,” said Myron. “See my manager,” said 01i\’ “Haven’t we got the ‘littlest’ cor pany ?” “We wont have any one in o company who is over five feet for ii will we, Olive?” said Myron. ? “No, siree!” agreed Olive. “Evil Jack is in that class, so he can kin» [I belong.” “What I like is we’re going to ha i! just a little comer of a studio, b x it’s all our own. Isn’t it fui-| No one can boss us. C they, Myron ?” “No, siree!” agreed M ron. “I must go,” I put i Sr, “Mr. Hamilton is waiti: (j to talk to you.” “Oh, that’s all right,” sa Olive. “You’re just our si; j: so you can belong, too, ca she, Myron?” “Yes, siree!” said Myron. But I saw my duty and c ijc parted. As I passed thru the our office I saw the famous auth< Cosmo Hamilton, cooling 1 , bespatted heels until Mil Thomas found time to see hi,?) and the big producer. Herb: Brenon, waiting patiently fon business conference with Selznick, Senior, until M • Thomas had quite finished w.i'j Louis J.’s private office. f But all of these things, whii'^ are the natural homage duei'^; queen star, failed to amuse n'i so much as the fact that nmentarily I had forgotten tl: my companion was Oil Thomas, a famous film star a “ the wife of the equally famous Ja~ Bickford. I had failed to rememlr^l that she used to be a favorite in It Ziegf eld’s well-known Follies. y "To me she was a jolly good fellow just one of the girls. ( Thirty-eight) “We’ve got the ‘littlest’ company ever formed,’’ says Olive, “but it’s all onr own. Isn’t that f-un?’’ contract ran out ; there were photographers, shoemakers, dressmakers, fitters, people running in with this paper and that for me to sign. You see, the doctors didn’t want me to go out. Today’s the first day I’ve left the house for any length of time, and tonight I have to catch the train for Pittsburgh to visit my mother and then hurry out to the coast and work.” We edged in a little remark of “Do you like the coast?” “Of course I do,” she said. “We have a house out there and it’s nice weather and all that. But there’s nothing to do. No excitement, no big plays. All I do is w^ork every day and go to the movies in the evening. I told mother I felt just like an Irish workman. Working each day, paid once a week, and a half holiday on Sunday.” “But some difference in the pay,” I remarked, plointedly. Just at this crisis the door opened and Mr. Selznick, Sr., came, in, followed by his secretary. Miss Thomas and I soft-pedaled our chatter and asked as one voice with but a single thought, “Oh, are we in your way?” The busy picture financier pressed five or sjx little buttons set in a square box on his desk and said, cordially, as if time were of no consequence in his rushed life, “Go right ahead and enjoy yourselves,” and with a nod to his secretary to follow him, he leB us in possession of his sanctum.