Picture Play Magazine (Sep 1928 - Feb 1929)

112 Advertising Section Life Rid es in a Bus Continued from page 83 CHELSEA HOUSE Popular Copyrights Tales of the West, of Love and Mystery and Adventures on sea and land — you can have them now, fresh from the pens of your favorite authors. They are real books, too— no reprints of oldtimers but new books bound in cloth, with handsome stamping and jackets and all for 75 cents. Ask your bookseller to show you some of the books listed below — The Brand of |[Ej^j | Good Books THE QUICK-DRAW KID George Gilbert THE "GOLDEN DOLPHIN" Joseph Montague ''LOOKOUT" LARAMIE Paul Bailey THE TUNNEL TO DOOM Roy W. Hinds THE VALLEY OF THE MONQUIS Arthur Preston THE BLACK SANDER Loring Brent GUN GENTLEMEN David Manning BLUNDELL'S LAST GUEST Albert Payson Terhune THORNTON THE WOLFER George Gilbert THE COASTS OF ADVENTURE James Graham Of JIM BRIDGER Joseph Montague THE SLEEPING COP Isabel Ostrander and Christopher B. Booth THE BAYOU SHRINE Perley Poore Sheehan THE SILVER SKULL George C. Shedd THE TRAP AT COMANCHE BEND David Manning HIDDEN OUT Howard Fielding YOUNG LIGHTNING Charles Wesley Sanders THE GLORIOUS PIRATE James Graham SCHEMED AT SANDY BAR George Gilbert THE HOUSE OF DISAPPEARANCES Chester K. Steele ISLAND RANCH Thomas K. Holmes STRANGE TIMBER Joseph Montague THE FLYING COYOTES Raymond S. Spears THE THUNDERBOLT'S JEST Johnston McCulley THE MUSTANG HERDER David Manning MUTINY Frederick R. Bechdott 75c 75c small favors. The mother believes she is getting only what is due; the man believes he is giving only what is due, and that what comes back is as sincere as what he gives. He seems to have had little happiness, but he is happy now. I hate to leave him, but there are also other bids >for fame. A very brisk and hearty backslapper hops aboard, and hands "Dad," the driver, three dimes. "Brand new! Just made 'em myself !" Dad pays no attention to him ; nor do I, who am the only other passenger in the bus. He comments on various things and passes the time o' day, but still he gets no "rise." We then pass a company that is shooting some scenes. His chance has come ! Without the slightest warning, he proclaims: "That don't interest me no more. I been right in the business for years. Seen it all — from top to bottom. I could tell you some things." But neither Dad nor I seem interested. The busses have painted on their sides the name "Studio Stage Line," and all the drivers assure me that many, many people have thought these vehicles far too grand .for them — that only those who have already made a name before the camera could be permitted to enter therein ! To many an aspiring and awe-struck newcomer, riding in them has been looked upon as just one step below electric lights! One evening the drivers lingered after hours, and we sat gossiping for a time. They ceserve an introduction. Meet Dad Willard, Eric Swanson, Bill DeBeck, the "regulars," and Harry Friendson, who subs when one of them is sick. "Usually, you can tell if a person is waiting for you, whether they signal or not', but one time I got fooled! When I had passed this girl she yelled and waved so frantically that I stopped to see if I had hit her. But it was simply that she wanted to get on. 'But, madam, I didn't see your signal!' 'What, didn't you see me wink?' " "The best one I ever heard came from a woman who, after fumbling through her bag for at least ten minutes, couldn't find her ticket. 'Now, that is queer. I'm sure I had it in my hand when I kissed Eddy goodby!' " j And in return, told the story of i the new roadster presented to James ! Murray by the studio. The story, as told, is this : Jimmy missed the busses with such remarkable persistI ency that the studio was finally forced to buy him a car in order to take that excuse away from him. But the real reason for which I had come was to get the drivers' impressions of movie people, as compared with other passengers. Contrary to my expectations, they were absolutely unanimous in their praises of them. "They never kick at anything. If you're overcrowded, if you're late, if the road is bumpy, they take it all in good spirit. They seem to have learned to make the best of any situation, without complaining. "They'll even help you change tires ! And one time when I busted a fan belt, I had all the extra 'beef I needed to pull the ends together when I'd shortened it! "I remember when a section of the road to Universal City was being paved, and the detour we had to make included a very steep and long hill. I soon found that the bus couldn't make it with a full load. During all the time that those repairs were under way, whenever I had a heavy load they'd get out and walk — and without a peep!" Lest this seem too idyllic a paradise, let me recount one incident I observed. It was a Monday morning. There had been a big call for extras, and the bus was loaded to the gills. The aisle was filled right to the front, with people seated on camp stools, and in front of them people were jammed against the door. Two girls in makeup hailed the bus. The driver, Bill DeBeck, stopped, and then turned to those seated in the aisle behind him: "Here are two girls who want to get to work just as much as you do; if some of you guys in the aisle will stand up, we'll have more room. Otherwise, I can't take 'em." Not a single person budged! The girls pleaded, and Bill finally made room, but not by the grace of the extras. But though I mentioned this to them, and Bill recalled it, the drivers all stuck to their guns. There is an occasional exception, true; but, as a general rule, they insisted that what they had said is so. And I will admit that it is the only such instance I have seen. So, on the whole, our extras seem likable as well as interesting. Tourists come to Hollywood every day, hoping to glimpse the life of the film world. They pay big prices to ride on "rubbernecks," that show them the ontsides of studios and stars' homes. And these, the red sight-seeing busses of Hollywood, they pass completely by.