The Motion Picture Director (1925)

July, 1925 “My boy,’’ he said, peering up at the ceiling pensively, “I’ve been kicked out, thrown out, shot at and missed. Bulls and bulldogs have yearned for strips of my epidermis. Angry men have chased me with sawed-off shotguns, wild-eyed women have stalked me with bottles of vitriol hidden in their bosoms; and once I was nearly tarred and feathered, but I always came back with a story. Them was the good old days.’’ Ungrammatical perhaps, but expressive. Bill, in justification, rehearsed and amplified the tale of his reception at the castle. “I’ll get the dope on that bird yet,’’ he threatened. The memory of a young man calmly chinning himself, while he did a marathon to the gates of the castle, with a long-fanged dog snapping at the seat of his trousers, was not exactly a pleasant one. A shadow in the doorway brought all conversation to a halt. The two men turned synchronously. There stood the subject of their discourse in the flesh. Outside was the big, cream-colored car. It must have floated up like a magic carpet. Bill Dobbin’s lower jaw almost dropped out of place. Cal, not knowing who the visitor was, got up and went to the railing that enclosed their sanctum sanctorum. The stranger swept the place with an appraising glance, finally turning his powerful lenses upon the belligerent Bill. That individual returned the look with compound interest, as recognition kindled and resentment flamed. Young Warrington’s stern gaze relaxed, a faint smile playing in the corners of his mouth. “Hello,’’ he said, genially. “How’s the sprinter?” This greeting, followed by an infectious laugh, changed the temperature of Bill’s arteries. “Say!” he exclaimed with a forgiving grin. “I did a hundred yards in ten flat.” Opening the gate invitingly, he nodded towards Cal. “Meet my dad, the Honorable Cal Dobbins, editor of this here sheet.” They shook hands all around, and when they were seated, the stranger dug from his pocket a well smoked pipe, and fished for his pouch of tobacco. Cal shoved over a can of choice mixture, and soon they were all puffing in perfect accord. That they had failed up to the present moment to learn his name seemed of minor importance to that gentleman. He was busily engaged in polishing his glasses with a handkerchief of finest silk. Adjusting them to his liking, he looked around with keen interest. To him the smell of printer’s ink was like the odor of tan bark to a circus performer. “Want to sell this here sheet?” he asked, without further preamble. Cal never batted an eye. “Hadn’t thought of Continued on Page 21 Studio Wardrobe Departments Attention We are maintaining a specialized service in our Hollywood Store for the Studios as well as the individuals of the Motion Picture Profession in Exclusive Women’s Garments. Through our Central Buying Office in New York City it is possible for us to have on hand, for your inspection at all times, the latest Parisian Models, and the American adaptations, besides the selected Models from the American Courteriers. We will be very glad to make special prices to the Wardrobe Departments of the Motion Picture Studios, and an appreciable discount to the Ladies of the Profession. Further, we are glad to send on approval at any time a selection of models to any studio, subject to a photographic test. We ask your support inasmuch as tve are making special efforts to establish a more intimate connection with the Alotion Picture Fraternity. Call MISS MEALY, STUDIO SERVICE Dept. United Fashion Stores, Inc. 6716 HOLLYWOOD BLVD. HEmpstead 1863 17