Picture Show (Nov 1919-Apr 1920)

a The Pirf/rc Show, January Ylih, 1920 JUST ME "ay lea rl How the Story Commenced. In the preceding chapters of her delightfully frank story, Pearl White sketched the history of her early childhood. They were not altogether happy days for money was scarce in the household, and her mother, who was always very delicate, died soon after her birth. Pe3rl was always getting into mischief. Her father married again when she was six years old. When she was twelve years old, her brother, who was her greatest pal, left home and joined the navy. At the age of thirteen. Pearl decided to join a circus that came to her district, and later on she joined a touring company. But her early efforts were not too successful. Next, Pearl was offered a job as a stewardess on a boat. Sea life did not agree with her, and she went on the stage, touring in Cuba, Buenos Aires, Kansas City, Tennessee, and Kansas. Then her . voice began to go, and a woman advised her to try to get on "'the pictures." (YOD CAN NOW READ ON.) PEARL WHITE. THE first studio on my list was Edison. The directions read " Take Third Avenue Elevated to the end, get off, walk down the stairs, you can easily find the studio about a block away." Now the Third Avonue Elevated is a long line, and of course I didn't stop to figure that there were two ends, so naturally I took the wrong one. ] must have gotten a downtown train, and landed down at the Brooklyn Bridge, where I spent the afternoon searching for said Edison Studio. Eventually I found out that it was on the uptown end, way up in the Bronx, but I had to get back to South Norwalk, so I called it a day. I came back again on Thursday, and took the second studio on the list — " Kalem, 19th Street." Mr. Theodore Wharton was the head director there at that time, so I got an audience with him, and he asked from whence I came. I told him I was playing in South Norwalk, b«t my voice by now was almost a whisper, and he didn't believe my story. He dirocted me several years afterwards in ''The Exploits of Elaine." Then he told me that at our first meeting he had taken me to be 311st a girl from a little up-stato town who wanted to become an actress. But he said that r-onething in my personality, for some reason or other, made him want to help and advise me. So that day, there in his office on 19th Street, he told me that I should go back to my home, because that any part of the theatrical profession was a tough game to try, and a whole tot of other fatherly advice stuff. I 6at tight that day and let him rave on. I probably had seen more hard knocks in show business than ho had. Anyway, I didn't want to spoil his illusion, so I plnyed up the situation and promised that I'd go back home to my folks. Again I came to New York on Friday and tackled the third on the list — Powers, 241st Street. That was a long way on the subway and eurfaco cars, but I finally reached there, and the director, Joseph A. Golden, took me BCriousty and told me he could givo me a try at five dollars a day, and that 1 could start working tho following Monday. Saw Myself on the Screen. SO back to South Norwalk i went, packed up my goods and Came to New York to stay. 1 did my first picture in two days — they were only doing one-reel pictures then — and they gave me a steady engagement at t hirty dollars a week. I had gone on about three weeks before I saw my first picture on the screen. Oh, what a sensation that is ! Up until that time I had a mental picture of myself that was quite good-looking, but when I got a flash of myself as I was and as others saw me, I nearly died. I was so disheartened that I walked out of the studio and disappeared for three or four days. If it hadn't been that I was in the middle of a picture and they wanted me to finish it, that would probably have been my last appearance on tho screen. Anyway, they needed me for the finishing scenes, so they discovered my whereabouts and lured me back to the studio, 6aying that with a little making over they were sure I would turn out all right. I soon disposed of my small waist-line, and big pompadour, and changed my entire scheme of dressing to more •simple styles. I also found that light hair photographed better than dark, so I began to get the dye out of mine, which was quite a difficult task, and for quite a few weeks I carried around a head of hair that bore a Scotch plaid effect. I worked with Powers for about six months, intending all the time to go back on the stage when my voice got all right. The voice eventually did come back to its full strength, but I didn't go back on the stage. Instead, I used it to good advantage talking myself into a better job. / left Powers and went to tho Lubin Company in Philadelphia for three times my former salary. At that time Florence Lawrence and Arthur Johnson were the stars of the Lubin Company, in fact, I think they wero about tho first people to reach stardom in the entire picture business. I was to play secondary parts. I don't know just what it was, whether I was too good or too bad. Anyway, Miss Lawrence refused to work with me, so that they put me in other pictures in which I played leading parts. However, I didn't get on well there and only lasted about two months. I came back to New York, drifted over to the Pathe Frercs in Jersey City, and asked to seo the Casting Director. A tall, thin man walked out to interview me, and I recognised him as being " Mr. Theodore Wharton," the same man who had given me the fatherly advice some months before at the Kalem studio. But this time ho advised me in a different manner. " I think you are just the girl we need in this company," ho said. And ho led me into tho office of the head of the firm, Mr. Louis Gasnier, who at that time spoke no Enclish at all. I had to stand on exhibition before him and another Frenchman, who began criticising me in their native tongue. Then, thiough an interpreter, they asked me to take off my hat, take down my hair, turn first profile, then front face, then go through a routine of different expressions with my face, while they discussed me in their own language, of which I understood nothing. I felt like one of the slaves being sold on tho auction block in " Uncle Tom's Cabin." Anyway, they must have decided for the best and I started next day with Henry Walthall playing opposite me. I worked on for about six months with Mr. Gasnier as my director. At first it \»as pretty tough to act through translation, but finally I got used to that and we got along so well that I was perfectly rorrj' to leave Pathe for a better offer. However, the Crystal Moving Ticture Company came along and offered mo so much more money that my Jewish instinct forced mo to pack up my things and leave behind the emotional and dramatic parts that I had been playing in Jersey. f became chief pie-slinger in tho Crystal slapstick comedies. I don't know why, but all through my career I have had to change biy line of parts in every company that I have worked for. Bo that .as it may, I was getting a very good salary and also was being advertised enough so that I began to become known to the public. My Letters. IT is really marvellous how many people who see pictures write letters to tho players, and, by the way, that is one of the greatest mediums through which we can judge our popularity. I don't suppose that during my entire stage career I ever received over a dozen letters of appreciation from admirers, and they were moro or less of the " mash " note type. So the first letters I received through my picture work were indeed highly prized by me, and even to-day, although I don't have time to read them all, I should be heartbroken if they ceased. It is really marvellous to get letters from all the different countries and most of the ones I receive are just nico letters telling me that they like me, etc., and generally asking for a photograph or autograph to be sent to them in every corner of tho globe — even from faraway places like Iceland, Siam, Finland, Guatemala, the Colonies of South Africa, etc. I receive as many as ten thousand letters a month. This sounds almost unbelievable — that so many people would take the time and even expense, for a great many send me presents, too. However, it is true. Among the first letters that came to me was one from a United States sailor, who had seen a picture of me shown in the Philippines. Now I don't very often get "love letters from male admirers, and this letter could hardly bo classed as such. However, it ran in that direction but was written in such a sweet way that it really touched me. This boy begged a photograph, saying that, somehow, there was something in my face that appealed to his better self. That may be I reminded him of his mother or some one who had been very dear to him. Anyway, he wrote that he felt an affection for me that he had never had for another woman. I answered his letter, which was signed F. L. White, on board the Battleship " Huntington." It struck me as quite a coincidence, as my lost brother's name was Fred White, only his middle initial was E. He had also joined the Navy years before. Well, we kept up a correspondence for about a year, and I learned that my sailor-admirer's name was also Fred. His letter's were awfidly nice and very romantic, and I really enjoyed reading them. Finally, ho wrote that he was not going to bother me any moTe, as he realised that a poor sailor could never aspire to bo anything in my life. I didn't hear from him again until two years ago, then he wrote a nice friendly letter, among other things, telling me that he once had a sister named Pearl, whom he had heard was mirried, and lived out in Missouri ; but as ho ha 1 been estranged from his family for years he didn't know much of her. Evidently, he must have read some little squib in a magazine about me, for he was under the impression that I was born abroad. This letter sort of made me figure things out a bit. and I asked for the details of his origin, which he gave me, and I eventually found out that he was my own brother. Poor boy ! That must have been an awful shock to him. His past childhood affection for me must have crept back unconsciously into his soul and ho had mistaken it for a different sentiment. Ho didn't communicate with me for some time after he was informed of our relationship. Then I received word that he was soon coming to New York and would look me up. That was in March, 1917. In April I received word from one of the officers on board his ship, that he had accidentally shot and killed himself while out on a scouting party near Sacramento, California. I wonder was it an accident ? It seems that tragedy has pursued my mother's children My brother, George, of whom I spoke in tho early chapters of this book, was killed playing baseball when about twenty. Two other children were killed before my birth — one by drowning, and the other, who was only a small boy, blew his brains out with a shotgun. My sister, Grace, is married, and living quietly with her husband, one Loy Williams, and two little children. My father is still lis ing. and perhaps lie will see his whole family extinct. Who can tell ? (To be continued nexl week.) \