Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Aug 1916)

214 Romances of the Studios were wed in the glory of the California sunlight, with the Gish sisters and Mae Marsh as bridesmaids. During the production of "Neal of the Navy," debonair young William Courtleigh, junior, fell deeply in love with Ethel Fleming, one of the principals. It is only fair to relate that Ethel herself had as serious a case. "Can we have a day off?" Courtleigh pleaded with Bert Bracken, the director, and his request was granted. Ethel and Bill promptly jumped into his motor and whirled away. That night they returned, and the coy and bashful girl had a thin golden band on one of the fingers of her left hand. Congratulations, and a studio banquet. "I know just how you feel," smiled Director Henry King, who is married to Gypsy Abbot. "Great, isn't it?" Gypsy, you know, married Henry as the result of picture love-making. Many romances have resulted because of actors and actresses playing opposite one another. The case of' Ruth Stonehouse and Joe Roach is different. Joe was employed by the Essanay Company to write leading parts for Ruth, and to have Francis X. Bushman or Dick Travers make love to her at the rate of a reel or two a week. For a while Joe worked in perfect content. Finally he woke up and asked himself why he should furnish love potions for other chaps when he was extremely fond of Ruth himself. So he stole a day from his duties and on bended knee pleaded with Ruth to accept his heart and hand. She couldn't help but say "Yes," for she had long cherished a secret admiration for the good-looking young scenario writer. Of course, I'm not sure about the bended-knee incident, but, anyway, that's the way it is usually done. Look at the films and see ! The famous American Film Company quartet, Winnie Greenwood and George Field, and Louise Lester and Jack Richardson, are also among the lucky players whose courtships were the result of studio association. They resemble nothing so much as carefree turtledoves. Any moving-picture sweethearts who are seriously thinking of committing matrimony are respectfully referred to the above-mentioned players. Better furnish a little bungalow or flat first, however; you'll need it. Or, if it happens that you are not acquainted with these stars, call on Claire McDowell and Charles Mailes, of Biograph. They are also a Mr. and Mrs. So are Octavia and Harry Handworth, and Ethel Grandin and Ray Smallwood. Laura Sawyer and J. Searle Dawley trace their romance back to their days with Edison. Another case of one and one making one started two years ago at D. W. Griffith's studio, and just came to a climax. It is that of Raoul Walsh and Miriam Cooper. They made reel love so often that it developed into real love, and a few short weeks ago announcements were sent out. A wedding that had a very amusing side was that of Ford Sterling, the bespectacled and bewhiskered Keystone comedian, and petite Teddy Sampson. This eventful happening took place in Los Angeles, when Charlie Chaplin, the great, was a member of the Keystone forces. Mack Sennett, in all his glory and a frock coat, was the best man, and Charlie had the role of chief usher. It is said that as the happy but nervous couple were standing before the minister, Mack wanted to take his job from him. Chaplin, hopping on one foot, as is his wont, reached him just in time. "Remember, Mack," he said solemnly, "this is no comedy !"