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Janet Gaynor drops in on Shirley Temple for a bit of chit chat on the Fox lot and it would seem that it is plenty interesting and funny, too
people would pay to hope to see him play.
As he sat, I saw a small boy hovering around him. He was holding an autograph book and a pencil. More than anything else he wanted to have the signature of the "Galloping Ghost." He waited and waited. Finally, he managed to edge up to Grange and ask him to take off a second or two and scribble his name.
"Red" Grange shook his head. The little boy edged away, heartbroken.
MOW I want to shift the
scene to the Riviera Polo
Field. It was Sunday and all
the screen stars were out to
Wally Ford and his Great Dane, Dick, are so inseparable that when Wally went on location with Columbia's "Hot News" company, he rode in one of the trucks so that he could be near his boon pal. Some pal!
Jack LaRue says if picture making were all like this, a chair and a footstool at every turn, life would be one sweet without a sour note!
watch their favorite sport. Inone box sat Will Rogers and his friend Irvin Cobb, the humorist.
In a chukker intermission I| saw two tots clamber up to the famous pair. One was about; seven, the other around five.
"Hello, girls," said Will, grinning a grin as wide as an i Oklahoma prairie. " What can I do for you?"
They held out autograph books, tongue-tied.
"Sure," chuckled Will, engaging them in conversation while he wrote out an elaborate autograph. How old were they? Did they like polo? Could they ride a horse?
He was honestly enjoying the visit, and his treatment of those I two kids was actually sweet. At the end he said, "Do you know who I this man is?" They didn't.
"He's Mr. Cobb," said Will, "Mr. Irvin Cobb, the writer. And listen, he's a big man in more ways than one," he grinned. "You ought to have his autograph too." | I don't know that all of this proves any: thing. Except it struck me as singular that one who for business reasons should have been obliging wasn't — and one who didn't have to was.
Just about ready for the glorious person of Marion Davies, that by now noted bungalow of hers as it has been set up on the Warner lot. And, it may be added, this is only a "dressing rcorn'
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