Photoplay (May 1921)

WEST IS EAST A Few Impressions By DELIGHT EVANS Edward Thayer Monroe '• He's a nice chap. Ward V^rane. THIS is an Apo!og\To Mr. Ward Crane. He has been Misjudged, and I am Going to Try To Make it Up to him. Vou Know, I N'ever Wanted to Meet Mr. Crane, -le Always Seemed to Me )ne of those E\'er-ready Rollos A'ho is Always Hanging Around Ready to Comfort the Hapless Heroine, ^is Eyebrows \re Emotional, and he has \ Little Moustache, a Dramatic Version of Tharlie Chaplin's. ■ie Poked his Head in the Door. Rather Difficult — Try it Sometime.) ;Hello," He Said. 'How do you Do?" I Queried Coldly. Vot that I Really iV'anted to Know. But he Came Right in anyway. 'Well," he Said Cheerfully, 'I'm Of! to Undertake \ Little Dirty Work n California. I Can Stand Voting Like the Chief Mourner \ta Blue-Laws Convention ust so Long, and then — )ff IGo!" ;Go On!" 'You Know, it Makes a Chap ■"eel Awfully Foolish Reporting for 'Work' — They Call it That— And then Doing Nothing but Share an Occasional Close-up With the Star — if she Happens to be In a Good Humor. That's Not Acting. I Want to Play A Rough-Neck Once in a While. Allan Dwan Let Me Do It. He's Sort of Responsible For My Being an Actor — I Met him when I was In the Navy; and After the War he Put Me in Pictures. Good Parts, too — Crooks and Thugs — Great/ And Now I'm Off To Gi\c the Screen Some of the Worst Characters It ever Saw. Wish Me Luck. Goodbye!" He's a Nice Chap, Ward Crane I Went Up to See Mary Miles Minter. She Had a Big Doll On her Lap, and I Couldn't Help Thinking What a Big Girl Mary was Getting To be. Why, in a Couple of Years Or So, she'll Be Quite a Young Ladv. She Was \'ery Very Bus>', what with Matinees and Teas and Dinners and Dances and Dinner-Dances and Admirers. She Really Couldn't Spare More than a Moment. She Really Couldn't -Spare that — anyone Could See It. But She Wanted Me to Hear The Baby-Doll Say, "Pa-pa" and "Ma-ma" — It Cries, too. The Phone Rang. It was for Mary. Someone W'anted her To Go Somewhere. "You Must," Said I, "Have Many Friends Here." She Looked at Me. "Friends!" she Echoed Sadly. "Who Knows One's Friends? Acquaintances — yes. But — F"riends!" Her Voice was ^very Tremulo; and I Wiped Away A Stealthy Tear. "I Often Think," she Continued, "that I am Really Not a Girl at all, but A Little Old Woman. Why, I Would So Much Rather Stay at Home and Read 'Sentimental Tommy' than Go to that First ."^ight Tonight." "I've Read 'Sentimental Tommy,' " I Suggested, "Suppose I Go Instead." She Paid no ."Vttention at all. "Isn't it Funnv — " she Said. "Awfully," I Howled. "Isn't it Funnj-," she Went On, "How Young You Writers are. Nowadays? One Expects Little Old Ladies with Spinster Curls and Everything. And Instead — " The Phone Rang. It w-as for Mary. Someone Warned her To Go Somewhere. Then Margaret Shelby, Mary's Sister, said, "Really, Juliet, You Must Dress, you Know. We're Dining Out." "So we are!" said Mary-Juliet. It was Just Like a Play. And I Knew that It was My Cue, and that If Mary was Ever Going to Finish "Sentimental Tonmiy," I'd Better Go. I Think she Agreed with Me. Woodbury *'WIiat a hig girl Mary is getting to be! "