Screenland (Sept 1922–Feb 1923)

HOLLVWOOO CAUFOftNSA e cr ets of LEASE give me the telephone number of Agnes Ayres," requests a masculine voice over the telephone. "Sorry, but we are not allowed to give out telephone numbers," suavely replies the Lasky switchboard operator. "But it is important. I must have it !" insists the voice. "It is really impossible," insists the operator. "But I am her uncle !" wrathfully. Or her brother or cousin twice removed. "Then surely you must know Miss Ayres' number!" and zip! out comes a plug, in goes another and Miss Operator is ready to deal with the feminine inquirer who really must have Wallace Reid's address this minute. The secrets of the grave arc as an open story compared with the jealousy with which the telephone numbers and residence addresses of the screen stars are guarded. ThE reason is obvious. With their addresses public property, the little privacy now afforded t h e m in their homes would be denied them. Screen-struck girls and adoring fans would be trampling the flower-beds and peering into the windows to get a glimpse of the cinefamous. The wires would be kept smoking with requests for admission into the studios. Tradespoeple, as well as fans, are covetous of the phone numbers of the stars. The highly paid actors and actresses are generous spenders, and a complete list of their addresses is worth money to the photographer or the automobile salesman or the shop people generally. Many and ingenious are the devices resorted to by these people to secure the desired information. Telephones ^ How popular film stars guard As a rule, the city directories and the telephone books give no satisfaction. When the names appear at all, they are always the little-known nonprofessional names. If you are well up on the film edition of Who's Who, you may be able to find an occasional star under her husband's name. If she is still using it. Enid Bennett, for instance, can be reached by calling the Fred Niblo home in Beverly Hills. The wise ones know that Mrs. Allen Holubar is Dorothy Phillips. But, even with the number discovered, the caller must first explain his identity and business to the maid who answers the phone. And long experience has generally taught these maids to recognize an intruder by the very way he says "hello." Sometimes the tradesman has a bright idea. He will put something over on Central. He calls Information and casually asks the telephone number of the house on the corner of Yucca and Wilcox. He believes the name is Swanson. Information retires into herself and returns to report frigidly that if the inquirer is referring to Miss Gloria Swanson the number is a private line and cannot be given out. And did he think he was getting away with something, or what? R.ECENTLY the theatrical section of a morning paper announced that Viola Dana was confined to her home with a slight illness. Ten o'clock brought a messenger to the Metro studio with a package for Miss Dana. No, he would not leave it at the studio. He must have Miss Dana's address, that he might put it into her . own hands. Those were his instructions and he would not break them. Just then Miss Dana, in person and apparently in her usual exuberant health, emerged from the studio. Con: sternation on the part of the boy. The box contained — nothing. An insurance salesman, thinking her reported illness brought out the psychological moment to sell her some insurance, had framed the stunt to discover her home address. 26