Picture-Play Magazine (1933)

This Fan's Dream Came True 37 passed us, and I had a glimpse of a pretty figure within, who waxed gayly as she swept by. "Mrs. Hamilton," said my guide. That friendly wave set me at ease. This was going to be fun, not an ordeal. Then I took in my surroundings — a white picket fence, a wide lawn, shade trees, and the house 1 knew so well from pictures, more beautiful in reality. Its architecture is a combination of the long. low. early California home and the porch influence of New England. The echo of the knocker was answered by Neil's smiling butler. Yes. Mr. Hamilton had returned from his hike. He was in the library. Nothing could speak better for the lack of ostentation that rules Neil's life than the casualncss, but sincerity, of our meeting. I followed my bags upstairs, and suddenly came face to face with a well-known smiling countenance. He stood at the top of the stairs, and said. "Wel-1-1-1, there are a million things to say!" I should like to live that meeting over again, not once, but several times. Of all the amazing things that transpired in the following two weeks, nothing made more impression upon me than did the genuineness of his welcome. "To-day is the day !" Neil said, as we entered the library. "I've just saved Greta Garbo from being stung by a bee !" Returning from his hike, he had met the famous lady walking — and at the same instant had perceived a swarm of bees heading Garbo-ward. He ran ahead to caution her, and being asked the best thing to do, suggested waiting first to see what the bees would do. Doubtless Patricia tells Neil about her kid party. It seems that the friend "boomped 'is 'ead" and had to go off and cry. daunted by his presence, the swarm turned tail and fled, and tlie twain moved on their separate ways. 1 was eventually installed in the north bedroom, and then taken on a tour of inspection. Neil is Massachusetts born, and has been clever enough to use Xew I'.n land influence in his decoration scheme. The wall lights are electric fixtures cased in glass chimneys, to give the effect of oil lamps, and tin doors are fitted with the sturdy brass locks and large keys of old Xew England. There are open fireplaces in the drawing-room, the master bedroom, and the game room, registers heating the remainder of the house. Neil Hamilton is justly proud of his home, but he does not attempt to conceal the fact that he came from small beginnings; that his .parents worked hard; that he never finished high school ; and that he had lived in a two-by-four house. The thing in which he takes perhaps the greatest pride is the pair of automatic gates on the driveway, which are opened and closed by a button in the kitchen. We drove over to M.-G.-M. studio that first afternoon, where he patronized a nonwounding manicurist, and where I saw Louis B. Mayer being shaved. On our return, I met Elsa Hamilton, a winsome lady, gay and sincere in all she does and says. Patricia, in what Neil termed a "ridiculously cute" pink bonnet, had just returned from a party, frankly perturbed because "Johnnie c'ied — boomped 'is "ead." With this fact she continued to acquaint us until her bedtime, which was near. Neil calls her "Beautiful," although her own conception of her name is "Fatreeshe." Mrs. Hamilton's brother-in-law, her niece who looks after Patricia, and Chang, Neil's ever-ready-to-bescratched Chow, complete the family circle, and a happy family it surely is. A kitten that terrifies boy poor Chang was added to the menage during my visit, to amuse Patricia, whom she promptly clawed to show good faith. In the living room is a grand piano which Neil plays to perfection. He used to play marches for the school when he was a youngster in Athol. The instrument is fitted with an electric-player control, and on the first evening I was initiated into Neil's "Listening to the Piano by Dark" club — Friml's "Chanson" and Binding's "Rustle of Spring" being the extent of the concert. Later, Neil played and sang "Mother Machree." He also plays the saxophone, the steel guitar, and the xylophone, and seems grieved that these four are the extent of his musical accomplishments. At eleven, he and I retired to the library, where, in one reading, he learned his lines for the next day's work, and with me as cue boy, recited it with but one terse call for "Line !" We breakfasted together before seven next morning and were off to the studio. While Neil was having his make-up applied, Tom Brown breezed in. We knew each other by correspondence, so Neil introduced me, with flattering results. The second morning, I met Billy Bakewell, another correspondent, in the same manner. They made me welcome wherever I went, and I consider them two of the finest youngsters in Hollywood. I watched each of them working, and was introduced by Billy to Mary Boland, Hardie Albright, and Wallace Ford. I'm sure none who witnessed the mishap will ever forget the occasion when Tom's pajamas sagged suddenly in front of Claudette Colbert. Perhaps it was a faked accident, but I thought Tom's embarrassment quite genuine enough. Continued on page 62