Motion Picture Classic (Jan-Aug 1919)

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At this juncture Detective Sims Joseph Conyers arrived and, seeing what had happened to the judge, attempted to arrest Jackie. With the quickness that had been in a large measure responsible for her rapid rise from chorus-girl to leading lady, she swung her bag, hit Mr. Conyers in the eye and disappeared thru the crowd just as the lights went out and a group of the boys captured the detective. Her efforts to find a safe hiding-place led her to the room where Creighton Hale was awaiting the return of June, who had gone home to announce her marriage to the astonished family circle. Since this same “Oh Boy” is a moving picture whose father was a musical comedy, you can let your imagination have full sway in painting the complications that arose. Next the camera was focused very low, the orchestra started up and the girls began to dance. “But why — why ?” I gasped to myself, for I had never seen the lens at that particular angle. I heard a chuckle and, looking up, found “Big Ben” Taggart standing beside me. “The camera’s getting only the line of legs,” he explained. “Rather neat ? Well, I’ll say so.” “Any man would and many men will,” was my mental comment. “Lefty” Flynn, who was leader of the college boys’ activities, seemed to pervade the entire cabaret. When he was in charge Mr. “Happy Cappy” gave his instructions and then sat back and looked on with his bland smile. There was no occasion to call “Pep!” or even “Gin ger!” The days when “Lefty” was the famous Yale fullback — remember?' are not so very far away, and he still looks out or down upon the world with the enthusiasm of the football hero. In private life he is Captain Maurice B. Flynn, of the aviation corps — and, oh yes, “Big Ben” is a captain, too, and the youngest veteran of the Boer War, for when there is a fight on “Big Ben” just naturally gravitates toward it — ^but no one ever thinks of him as anything but “Lefty.” Now that the war is over, he’s going into pictures seriously, and both Creighton Hale and I predict that before many months have passed “Lefty’s” face will be smiling down from the walls of boudoirs all over the country. Around the studio Creighton and “Lefty” are pals. “Lefty” looks down upon Creighton from his six feet something and exclaims : “Gee, but he’s a fine kid !” And Creighton looks down upon “Lefty” from his years of successful starring and smiles: “Take it from me, old man, you're going to make good.” “Well, I just heard a good one,” Mr.^ Dorris announced one day. “That chorus-girl over there wanted to know what' the black-and-white was doing around' here. By the way, be thinking up a spe-' cialty. We’ll need you later.” My next hours were haunted by the specter of that specialty. You will remind me from the kindness of your heart, as did Flora Finch, that the voice does not register. True, but the ears ofthe two hundred extras were as keen as the male eyes of the studio when the merry tho cold chorus-girls hove into sight. Over it all hung the knowledge that my partiality to perpendicular stripes had placed me in this delicate position and there was no zebra to help me out. “Hustle up, girls; the cars are waiting,” Mr. Dorris interrupted. Mr. Capellani has machines to take his players from studio to ferry. We all vote it a very pleasant innovation and suggest that the custom become universal. The next day the air was full of football. By dint of some judicious listening I gathered that as soon as Old Man Winter remembered his manners and the , teaching of his mother, Mrs. Autumn, | and gave up his seat to Miss Spring, I there would be a big football game which j “Lefty” Flynn would win just as he won I the famous Yale game. (I dont remem j her exactly how that was, but I’ll know ; after I see “Oh Boy.”) If there were ! only some chance of being invited to the i game, but at present the prospect re i sembles the fade-out in the last reel. The | disadvantage of these hints in print is j that they come out weeks after they ■ might possibly aid in accomplishing their ; purpose. 'I The cabaret ended toward the close of-! the third afternoon, and Director Capellani transferred his guests to the orches I tra seats of the theater set. .] “This is where one branch of the fam -i ily elm becomes a weeping willow,” I j remarked to myself, as visions of that | specialty began to cast fantastic shadows ^ on the retina of my left eye. J “I have some good news for you,r| folks,” Mr. Dorris said, after an interval of ten minutes, during which my black-., stripes had run into my white ones with^j all sorts of disastrous results. Was he going to announce my specialty? I “Hurrah, we work tomorrow !” a half' I dozen extras cried in one breath. d “No, Mr. Capellani cant get the exact ^ shot he wants today, so you’re all thru f ■ for good.” -tj How “good” it was he had no idea. j Of course, when I received my three! days’ check from Mr. Louis Jerkowski, > the business manager, I thought it good! form to present my regrets at not having | had an opportunity to entertain. “Well, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t do it,” he remarked, encouragingly. I am still wondering what he would have said if I had. (Eighty-six)