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18
Born to Comedy— The Story of Faxenda
Here she is seen with Teddy and Mack Sennett not long after
debut.
alternate burlesque and ironic inflections on practically all the precious, time-honored, traditions of near art and sham morals ; and, in addition, a quiet, meditative quality that suggests the dreamer.
Many people, who meet her for the first time, are a trifle disappointed by her apparent indisposition to carry on in real life the antics that she indulges in on the screen. They are often taken aback by her silences. But if they knew her better, they would recognize in her an exceptionally good listener/ whose passion is waiting for the other fellow to blow off steam.
Louise belongs to that early group of film pioneers who set their stakes in Hollywood, hoping to make money, and perhaps careers, in the industry that was beginning to look like something with a grand future.
She was attending high school when the urge to work in the movies beset her. Carmel Myers and her brother, and Bessie Love, were also pupils at the same school.
It was at this period that Louise's father, a cooper by trade, established a small, general store which met the demands of the neighbor A hood for overalls, plug tobacco, canned goods and writing paper. 1
Business was not so good, and Louise felt that her drain on the
family budget for books and shoes and stockings, and the many little things girls need during school years, was not swelling the fund. So she decided to help matters by working after school and on Saturdays.
Her compensation for running every sort of errand, doing housework, and tending babies, was sufficient as pin money, but was otherwise inadequate. She was unhappy. She wanted to make real money — $3.50 or $5.00 a day — as they did in the movies. Then she could substantially help her father, and buy for her mother the things that she wanted for her.
Adjoining Louise's parents' cottage was a French boarding house. One of the interesting boarders was an oldtime stage actress who had joined the bonanza rush to Hollywood, and was collecting greenbacks in abundance for playing extras.
Louise heard her talking about the fascination of the work — grease paint, money, location trips in automobiles,
. free lunches, and everything. She was
her screen r • , , u • J ■ , ?
fascinated. Her imagination was on
fire. But her tongue was tied. How could she ask the woman to help her get a job? She was a graceless, reticent, somber girl. So she did the next best thing by planting herself in front of the woman's door, until she returned from the.
studio one evening, and either by pantomime or thought waves Louise made her wishes known.
"Well, come along to-morrow, maybe we can help • you," was the stranger's sympathetic acceptance of the situation.
That marked the beginning of her career. To Universal they went, and for almost a year afterward Louise worked as an extra.
Ford Sterling was making tworeelers, running the gamut of comedy to Western thrillers, at this time. He was a, power, too, because he headed his own company, such as it was. Louise's introduction to him was as informal as could be expected. She was clinging to a telegraph pole, getting ready to make a flying leap, when Sterling happened by.
Louise wears frills and furbelows with grace and charm, when she chooses.
Photo by Monroe