Screenland (Nov 1935-Apr 1936)

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for January 1936 57 Freddi es N ew Adventures Master Bartholomew tells you his recent experiences — personal and professional — in this, his own story As Told to Ida Zeitlin SINCE the end of David Copper field, so many interesting things have happened to me that I hardly know what to tell about first. Before that, everything sort of led into David Copperfield and that was the center of everything, if you see what I mean, and all the other things were rather on the edge. Like one of those beautiful whirly firework whatmenots, with a very bright fire in the middle and sparks flying off on all sides. Since then, my life's been a kind of jumble — a terribly happy jumble, of course, because of acting which is supposed to be work though it's really nothing but fun, and because of Cis and horses and all the kind friends I've met here. Only what I mean to say is, if it sounds sort of jumbly when I tell it, that's the reason. One of the loveliest happenings was playing the son in Anna Karenina. My friend, Basil Rathbone, was the father and dear Miss Garbo was the mother. And that reminds me of a thing we both laughed at, didn't we, Cis ? Because one of the papers wrote that I'd never heard of Miss Garbo till I played with her. Well, that's entirely not true. Because while we did live in a small English town, still we weren't primitive. And I imagine anyone who never heard of Miss Garbo would have to be primitive or else quite deaf, don't you think so? But I will let you into a secret. And the secret is that I was slightly apprehensive about working with Miss Garbo, she being such a great actress and me being nothing at all — I don't mean, of course, that I'm just empty air — I mean, by comparison. But she soon reassured me and all my fears went away, because nobody Freddie is a screen celebrity, but that doesn't interfere with his boyish interest in the "manly art," as seen above in a fighting pose, and over at the left, sparring with a fellow actor and pal, Mickey Rooney. Left, Freddie, bearing gifts of her favorite flowers, is seen welcoming Madame Schumann-Heink, famous singer who is now making films, on her arrival in Los Angeles. could be afraid of anyone so sweet. We had a secret understanding together that if she forgot her lines, I'd tell her, and if I forgot mine, she'd tell me. But we both seem to have fairly good memories. We talked chiefly about horses, because horses are my favorite thing in all the world. She likes them too. Or maybe — you know, it never occurred to me, Cis, till this very moment, but maybe she was just kind enough to talk about them because I couldn't practically talk about anything else. You see, I almost have a horse. He was sort of promised to me, but I mustn't say by whom, because it's not altogether certain (Continued on page 84)