Star-dust in Hollywood (1930)

Star-dust in Hollywood day for a bewhiskered coat. I progressed through successively degrading degrees of second-hand clothes-dealers. But not one had a bewhiskered garment for sale, nor even one sufficiently cheap that one might bewhisker by artifice. I tried the husband of the concierge. I tried the dyer's shop opposite. I tried the patron of our habitual small restaurant. They all expressed deep sympathy and interest, but not one would own to a frayed coat. At last from a young painter I borrowed a coat in the necessary condition, but it was at least two sizes too small. However, it had whiskers. Eureka ! I bought myself a stick-up collar, as in the photograph, and I found a grubby dress-tie that had been used to bind up the sprain of a broom-handle. These I packed into a dispatchcase, set the alarum once more, and went to bed to dream of cinematographic triumphs. Once more unquestioned, I penetrated to the studios. My bailiff's bureau was ready, but at the moment the workmen were pushing a large motor-car into it. " Hello ! " I thought. " I'm to be the victim of an accident, then." I was soon undeceived, for the director was giving other instructions. " Now build a high stage and hoist the cameras up on to it. I want them to look down into the car so that nothing of the surroundings can show. And, mees," turning to a dashing blonde beauty near by, " please I want you to speak very distinctly, because they will have to print the street noises over your voice afterwards. And, Jacques," turning to a young man, " don't forget to see that they make that record of the street noises in the Champs-Elysees as soon as possible." Over the hood of the car a stage was soon erected, and on to this the big camera bandboxes were lifted. While the microphone was being adjusted I approached the director. [294]