Screenland (Nov 1935-Apr 1936)

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She loves to entertain. They ride a lot in their cars. As for me — I am just Bette Davis' mother, fond, believing in and utterly approving of the girl whose sweetness has made life good and beautiful to me. I am still sitting outside the little secret place in her heart of hearts where she retires with the books that she is reading, with the characters that she is bringing to life. I always try to be on hand in case she needs comfort or such wisdom as I can share with her — not to say ginger cookies and potatoes mashed with butter and lots of cream. But I am the mother who will always live under her own rooftree and who does not believe that two families should try to live together. My wedding present to Bette and "Ham" was the promise that I would never live with them, even though I like him far better than any of the boys Bette ever knew, and I am "Ruthie" to him. I am glad that when my girls were little tiny things, even before they were born, I suppose, I decided that human beings should keep their hands off other human beings except to help them develop as their own talents lead them on. It has saved me many disappointments and heartaches as my girls have grown up. This willingness of mine to let Bette take her own steps was one of the things that made it possible for Bette to handle the business end of her career with growing intelligence, I am sure. It makes it possible for me to enjoy her and her work more than I possibly could if I had to think out every reason for everything she does in her work life. I know that Bette will not always be playing the "worst women" on the screen. The Unhammiesr Actors in Hollywood Continued from page 31 a wise person, not as elemental as the rest of us. Frank is an 'old soul.' We like to thrash things out and get to the bottom of them as well as we can. He is not particularly well-read, Frank isn't ; he has too much natural sense to need the stimulation of a lot of reading. Balance seems to be the trait of the entire McHuge family ; they have a fund of common sense not colored by any outside influence. Frank is the business man in our group and we go to him for advice. We are both essentially stubborn, Frank and myself, so we have a lot of good arguments ; but eventually we see things the same way." As for Allen Jenkins, he and Jimmy were chorus boys in the same show. "He is just the same now as he was then," Jim said. "Shy and* self-conscious. No, I'm not kidding. He is. It isn't Jenkins you see on the screen, it's the character he happens to be playing. "Our association goes back farther than any of the others. For years we covered the Jersey and New York coast-lines every Sunday, looking at boats. We were both boat-crazy. We followed a regular routine. Sunday morning we got up early and mapped out our itinerary for the day. We would take a subway for Coney Island perhaps, and begin looking in the boat-yards. Naturally we couldn't have bought the varnish for the deck — but those builders and salesmen didn't know we were just a couple of hoofers too big for our pants. So we'd put in the day, looking and drooling and sighing. We looked at a thousand yachts, and every other kind of a boat as well. We examined them from stem to stern, shook our heads sadly, and went on. On some of those fine gray days with the fog drifting in, we would walk for miles, then back to Coney and spend our last fifty cents on two big steaming bowls of clam chowder. Those were swell times !" Have you ever in your mind's eye, pictured chorus boys putting in their Sundays like that? Allen is building a boat in his backyard, and Jimmy has his yacht now. And is this ironical — every time he goes for a cruise, he gets deathly sick ! But he goes anyway. "He is crazy enough about the sea even to risk being sick," Frank McHugh told me later. "And that's pretty crazy. But you have to admit the guy is consistent. All these years he's been panting for a boat and he isn't going to let a little thing like his stummick stop him! We went for a trip not long ago. I mean, you know, a cruise. The purpose was a rest for me, but I figured we would discuss and scream and argue the way we always do. Well, we never talked. We never even talked. I don't know to this day whether Jim really wanted to give me a rest or whether he just wasn't able to talk a word under the conditions prevailing. "Oh, sure, we have lots of arguments, but none of them are personal. It is always about our work and detail and politics, things like that. We get heated about what's to be done and said in a scene, but when the day's work is over, we drop it. We never sulk or refuse to speak or any of those childish things." "How about practical jokes? I've heard things," I remarked. McHugh gave me a patient look. "Lady, we are grown-up men. We are serious, earnest, and I hope intelligent. We are supporting families — I have three youngsters — and buying insurance and paying taxes. Oh, a few jokes, if they just occur inspirationally ; nothing built-up or fancy. But we are all story-tellers. We love 'em — clean, half-clean, dirty, any kind, so long as they are funny and have some characterization in them. There is a constant race on to see who will hear one first and tell it to the others before they have heard it. Both Pat and Jim are never so pleased as when they get me switched onto telling yarns of the McHugh family's early days. We were a big family and we did the old-time small-town rep shows. There is one called 'Human Hearts' in which I play all the characters. They must have heard it fifty times, but they still have me at it. Some of our experiences in the repshow days were so fantastic, Pat thought I was making them up. He went so far as to give a dinner one night for my mother and father and all the family he could get together, just to check up on me." Pat and Frank1 were in stock in Baltimore at the same time, and later in New York shows. They had a favorite way of spending their Sundays, too. They would get up (reasonably) early and go over to the Lambs Club for a big breakfast of Irish bacon and eggs — nobody around, nice for talking. Then they sauntered over to Broadway and got in the front seat of an open-faced street-car, and rode down to the Battery. They would dismount, stroll around the deserted Wall Street, ("no one around but the cops"), the river at one WESTCRAFT LABORATORIES LOS ANGELES