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Miss Baxter said, in her real lady-like manner.
Whereupon she grit her teeth and resumed the tedious job of getting old.
Three plays and one year later, hard on the heels of a rousing performance in a piece called "Spring Meeting," she got an honest-to-goodness, no-questions-asked offer to come to Hollywood and be tested, of all things, for the starring role in the film,
Well! Well! The fabulous juvenile had finally grown up. She could hardly believe it herself, as she entrained for Hollywood as Mr. Selznick's newest white hope. _ It certainly had been a bore getting to be sixteen, but it was worth it, she kept telling herself en route.
In a way, maybe it was and maybe it wasn't. True enough, Anne did get to repose in Laurence Olivier's arms (purely for purposes of the benefit of camera, mind you) but when Mr. Selznick saw the results he shook his head.
"She photographs a bit on _ the young side," he remarked to Katharine Brown, then his lieutenant. "That will never do."
Annie hung around Hollywood long enough to get a look at Gable, Taylor, and Power, after which she trundled herself back to New York, none too happy about the whole affair.
She wasn't back six weeks before Fox called up to ask how she'd like making another test for them — a very elaborate affair, this time.
"I wouldn't mind at all," Anne said, mostly out of habit.
Well, she made the test which was sent off to Hollywood and promptly forgotten by all hands, apparently. Especially by Anne.
But not for long. Some six weeks later she was awakened out of a sound sleep at the ungodly hour of 3 A.M. to find that Hollywood was on the wire in the person of some excited gentleman from Twentieth Century who told her to leave within 24 hours for the coast. It seems that her test was a wow and they needed her badly, had an immediate assignment for her. So hurry up and get packed, little girl.
Naturally, she didn't get back to bed, Anne didn't. She was much too_ excited for that. Her mother said maybe it would be a good thing for Anne to throw a good-bye party, champagne and all. Anne snapped up the offer, spent the next few hours planning the party. She began calling up her guests right after breakfast, rousing them from their sleep, in many cases.
It was 6 P.M. and the party was going full tilt (she was leaving on the midnight train) when the telephone rang. Twentieth Century was on the wire again.
"You can come out at your leisure, Miss Baxter," the man said "We still want you, of course, but not for this particular picture."
Anne was too dazed to speak. Baxter pere took over and asked the Fox man what was coming off. He found out. It seems that the producer of the picture in question had just discovered that Anne was only seventeen and had decided to pass her by. Why? Well, it seems that there is a California law that says an actress must go to school until she's eighteen. And having your star go to school is one terrific headache to a producer, mostly because you can work said star only four hours a day, time starting the very minute she drives through the gate. Furthermore, she must have her lunch no later than 12 :30 P.M. and must knock off no later than 6 P.M. Furthermore, the schoolteacher in charge of said starlet is a virtual dictator, must always be present with her protege on the set, and can drag her by the ear to do homework in the middle of a scene, if need be. You can see how all this cramps a producer's style a bit.
Mr. Baxter said he understood, thank you, and all that.
"We still want the young lady," the' studio representative repeated "She can report at her pleasure."
The news ruined the party. When the guests had gone Anne cried a little. It was an embarrassing situation, indeed.
"Never mind, Anne," said her papa. "You're not leaving on the midnight train but you are leaving in the morning. And nobody will know the difference."
And leave she did on the morrow, wearing the same orchid (which was put on ice) that she would have worn ten hours earlier.
She arrived in Hollywood without event, marched into the talent department of Twentieth Century-Fox, in which a couple of studio publicity department experts were lolling, and made quite a stir. Seventeen or no seventeen she was as geometric a little number as ever swore allegiance to Darryl Zanuck.
"Classy chassis," said one of the exploiters.
"Venus with arms," said his chum.
The talent department, which was vaguely aware of the Baxter girl's acting talents but not of her sensational geography, was
Ginger photogra
Rogers is shown presenting the purchaser of a $1000 bond with an autographed aph of herself from the stage of a theater In which she conducted a War Bond rally.
SCREENLAND