Motion Picture Classic (Jan-Aug 1919)

Sugar and Spice aiji Everything Nicel TRiTiNG about kings and queens at this particular stage of tl ii world’s development would seem an inauspicious beginning a popular story, royal families being rather out of fav(j,) nowadays. 3 However, that oft-quoted exception-to-the-rule is the subject now beirijl treated, for right in the heart of New York there exists a royal fami which, we dare say, will always be popular and well-loved by its subject A royal family whose queen is a King. In order not to disturb you 1 any further anomalies, I hasten to explain that I am speaking of Molljl King. ' j Mollie, (no one ever thinks of calling her Miss King, so democratic fl this queen of Broadway), reminds us of that well-known saying, “sug:|| and spice and everything nice.” She makes us think of crushed stra\f berries, out-of-season, and ice-cream ; of pink and lavender crepe-d chine, of errriine and sables, but principally of diamonds, huge, spar ling, million-dollar diamonds. _ . .1 One cannot, by any stretch of the imagination, think of Mollie Kii without these things, and yet, while we waited for her to gef i^ at midnight, ( she was singing and dancing on the Century roof her sister Nellie told us of the time when they were youngstei Nellie and Mollie had both played on the stage since babyhoc largely in vaudeville. Immediately after this Mollie King was featured in t| Winter Garden and has been a queen of musical comei ever since. “Mollie always was a cute kid,” said Mother Kir “She didn’t have a voice, but there was just somethi about her that everybody liked. Whenever she’d pij up, in her shrill little soprano, she would comma:| immediate quiet and attention from the most crowd audience. “And the most generous child, no more sense of respc sibility than the man in the moon, always jolly, alwa loving life, always doing something for other people.” “O-o-o-h, mother!” a voice like the cheerful chirp of canary called from the inner recesses. Mrs. King jumped to her feet. • Two seconds later she returned. “You can come now; I’ve got 1 buttoned up.” “It is so nice of you to come,” Mollie greeted us, and chatted on quic without giving any one a chance to put in a word. “Awfully good of y Wont you have some of this — and this — and this?” I found myself being loaded down with candy boxes, which a little s hand shoved into mine, from innumerable dra ers of the commode, in front of which she sto Boxes covered with lavender brocade, five-pot boxes, ten-pound ones, and insignificant t\ pounders appeared as if by magic from ev crevice. “Oh, that’s all right ; dont say a word. I’ve lots more, dear. Dont know what to do w them, really I dont.” The dispenser of bonbons stood still foi second. Her beauty is quite breath-taking, the, sort pink-and-gold and baby-stare beauty that ; read about but dont believe in. Her soft, d eyelashes, far longer than those ever describee the season’s best-seller, frame eyes of hazel hue. Golden ci peeped from beneath an enormous black picture hat oi mented with priceless birds of paradise. Her lithe ya figure was swathed in clinging black velvet. Her father entered and wrapped an enormous coat of the ricI sable about her. j • i “Be sure and keep that bundled around your neck, Mollie, he admomsi “Are you sure you have everything, honey?” Little Mrs. King hove anxiously around. Mollie King reminds one of crushed strawberries, out-of-season, and icecream; of pink and lavr ender crepe-de-chine ; of ermine and sables, but principally of diamonds, huge, si«rkling, millioiy dollar diamonds. Mollie o’ the movies is just now featured on Broadway in “Good-Morning, Judge,’’ and in the Century roof show (Fifty)