SisMi® F®atore §edti©im 1 1 | ** - r mm* Aimswsirs to Moftnwa Pietaf© Fasas |i - - - - - ... Slgn your name, but give title to use in column. Address all queries to Photoplay Editor, care of this paper, rvELMAR —Lillian Walker Is still working with the Vitagraph Company, but Mary Ful er is not working at alt at present. J. Warren terrlgan is 27, and Is not married. Lillian Glsh lever appeared In a serial, nor is Herbert iawlinson married to Agnes Vernon. Pearl R'hito was born at White Plains, Mo., some rwenty-odd years ago, and Prlscllla Dean in K'ew York City, 20 years ago. Priseilia Dean tas never married. Ethel Crandin was born n New York City. Eugene Strong plays the tart of "Bob Clayton" In The Crimson Stain dystery. Maurice Costello was born In Pltts •urgh. Some players do and some don't give iway their pictures. • • • BILL —Your three favorites, or their em ployers, are very stingy with their pid wres. Arnold Daly has not been In pictures tor more than a year. He is on the stago list now. Pearl White Is 28, to be exact, and ! am sure she would read your Utter. Lillian Lorraine Is 24. • • • lirll. MIKISH—J. Warren Kerrigan has left VV the Universal Company, with whom he •as been working for several years, but he will ret a letter addressed simply to Hollywood, Cal. It would be wise to send the customary quarter lir the picture. • • • ji WEETHEART—CreIghton Hale, Famous J Players, New York; Marshall Nellan. Lasky Company, Hollywood, Cal.; Bessie Eyton, Bell* Company, Los Angeles, Cal.; Henry B. Walthall, Essanay, Chicago, II!.; t>avid Powell, Artcraft, 729 Seventh avenue, Rew York. Bessie Eyton was married recently • Clark Coffey. He Is not an actor. EM. M.—The principal players in Neal of • the Navy were: Lillian Lorraine, William Courtleigh, Jr., William Conklin, Ed Brady and Henry Stanley. Mr. King, In The Foundling, was Edward Martlndel. Francis X. Bushman's middle name la n6t Xerxes, but Xavier; and his wife is Mrs. P. X. Bush man. She is not nn actress. William Court leigh, Jr., is 14, and he is married to Kthei Fleming. He was on the regular stage at last accounts. % • • VERA —You could probably get pictures by writing to Ernest Truex in care of the Screen Club, New York City, and Harold Lockwood, care ol Metro, Hollywood, Cat. Grace Darling Is th< actress who plays the part of "Beatrice Fairfax," the newspaper woman. The real Beatrice Fairfax is not an actress. Have not heard of any Geraldine Gerald in pictures, • • • J 8. V.—The Birth of a Nation hag never been • distributed through any exchange, but the Epoch Film Company, New York City, put the film on themselves In the different cities and towns. Write to them and you may be able to make come arrangements with them to show the film in your theater. Henry B. Walthall is the leading male character. • • • MUSIC —Their religion Is perhapa the only one thing that movie players are allowed to keep strictly to themselves. The Pickforda are of Irish-English descent. Jack is with Fa mous Players, 128 West Fifty-sixth street. New York. He has brown eyes. Alan Forrest Is 26 and was married last fall to Anna Little. ARLINE —Grace Cunard Is 25 and Francis Ford Is in his 30s. Neither Is married at present. Jack Ford Is jwt i>tnclA' .brother- HE motion picture world Is about to be stormed, and /{ forced to deliver, some of Its ( I Bold and glory, and the force IJ C. that Is moving against tha 1 y rampart of the industry with \ this end in view is an army of one little girl—not yet b years old—and all the weapons she will carry •are a pair of deep blue eyes—eyes full of the ihnocence of childhood and the deep tints of the wood violet—eyes fringed with long silken lashes that sweep her baby cheeks—eyes that her mother says are so valuable that she car ries an Insurance of $50,000 on them. Efflie Lau relle Selleck, sometimes called the "Dixie Doll," because of her Dresden China prettlness, and always called "that lovely child"—by all who see her exquisite beauty, is the little maid who possesses the wonderful eyes. And she will march up to the studlc sates of the movie world, press her determined way through the thousands that wait there aimed with pulls and power, money and am bition—and train the battery of her baby eyes on the ponderous gates and demand admission. That the gates will open—that the movio world will fall with little resistance seems u foregone conclusion; for no movie magnate, no liireetor, however hard and calloused and used to saying no to aspirants for movie fame, can gaze into little Eflie's wonderful oyes, become acquainted with her engaging personality and all around precociousness, and fail to be con vinced that here is beauty and talent of such a rare order that it would be flying in the face of providence not to give this small maid a chance win the hearts of the public througti the medium of the screen, and .lncldently win fat dividends for the studio employing her. Mrs. Hazel L. Selleck, the mother of the beautiful little girl, says that while she has no especial desire to capitalize her small daughter's looks, she consider* that she woul'l be standing in her child's light U she did not make every endeavor to place her in the ad vantageous position thst moving pictures will give her. And with this end in view she will take little KfHe to New York and do all that she can to make a great motion picture star out of her. Klße has already appeared in pictures in a email way. She is camera wise, and able to register her emotions in a telling manner. Even at her tender ags she can register grief, sorrow, surprise, horror, pleasure—ln fact near ly all of the pantomimist's tricks, with ease. And she is particularly proud of her ability to wink most cunningly with either one of her long lashes. Mothers are notoriously proud of their chil dren's physical perfections, and many times without cause other than the mist of love and pride through which their vision is strained: but Mrs. Selleck is neither hoodwinked nor handicapped in this respect. Mrs. Selleck says she takes no spectal credit for llttlo Kftle's good looks. "She Just grew that way. No special training or dieting, no system of beauty culture or regime was Indulged in. The little girl has just lived the life of an ordinary child. She runs and plays out of doors when the feather Is good, eats candy and chews gum. and thrives on sweetmeats, which have never Injured her digestion nor worked any harm to her com pletion." Another remarkable thing about the child Is that she has all of her second teeth, which are streng and llrm and white as ivory. Nature now and then gets In a lavish mood and Creates a flower or a plant of most sur passing loveliness and perfection. And now and then she turns her attention to the hutnan race—and makes a child us beautiful as a flower. T'arl of the country has already falle-n before th. lottery of KHle's remarkable eyes. The great Southwest, where, she has lived with her mother for a number of years, capitulated long Leading Man Loses Job BREAKING INTO THE MOVIES French studio in New Jer- ®ey came to feel more like Jf • home to Myra Jones and me 11 as time went on. |I (, _, Madame, the general man- I \ ager and owner, gave us the \\l/ . |uo a week she had prom ised, but not until three is rtead of two weeks liad passed. It was mighty lire when it did come, however, and enabled us to swell our bank account, which, In our eyes, was growing to enormous proportions. "Show people," are notorious spendthrifts. The nomadic life most of them lead is not con ducive to saving. But it was different with Myra and me. We knew the value of money; we had lived on so little when she was in the 6 and 10 cent store, and I was in the laundry. We had scrimped and made every penny count till we knew how to save, and we did until we got tha, reputation of being stingy. One day Myra said: "Kid, the bunch over, at the plant have a nice name picked out for us. They call use the Tightwad Sisters." Tiiis came about because we refused to loan money to ever* one who asked us. Most of the girls at the studio were broke two' days after pay day, and were continually borrowing from one another. They soon found out that Myra and I were not good "touches," and hence the nicknames, but wo didn't care. Myra and I reveled in clothes for the first time in our lives. Before this we had always patronised the basement bargain counters of the big stores, but after we got our raise from madnme we took a shopping trip, and when wo got to Macy's, Myra said: "Kid, here's where we take the elevator. I'm going to splurge and get things to tit this frame of mine if X have to pay two or three prices for them." Myra was * strikingly handsome girl, and when she got the things on that she had splurged for uhe really did, to quote her own words. "cut bome flgger." She was dazzling in her new outfit. U'e still lived over the candy store on Ulghth avenue, In the room Mr. Merton, our old frifnd. had piepared for his daughter who never came. There was quite a colony of movie folks living and boarding around tha studio over qt Fort Lf-t, and we seriously considered moving over there, but we did not just then because ru mors began to float around the studios that msdame had caught the West Coast fever and might move the whole outfit to California. The possibilities of the Pacillc Coast were Just becoming known. A number of producers be gan operating In Hollywood, a suburb of J„oj Angeles. The California films created u great fitlr In movledom. The photography was much better than could be produced in the East. The West Coast pictures were clear and sharp as a knii". and, in addition to this, the large num ber of sunshiny days made It possible lor the players to work out of doors almost uil the year round. Kcolltss outdoor stages were built at half the cost of the artificially lighted studios of New York. There was no "static," the bete noir of the Eastern producers, in the West. Static eleciritity could not be guarded against'in our climate; it would develop at any time and spoil many hundreds of feet of films and make neces sary the restuglna of whole scenes. Static was little understood at that time. Madame talked things over with Mr. Merton, who was now high in her favor, and who was consulted about everything. He told us he would probably ahead and make arrange ments, and that we might get orders any time to pack up and hike out the West. Everybody was wild to go except Karl Fisher, who told us some of his history that we had never known before, as his reason lor not wanting to go. ,- I can't go away and leave my sweetheart," he said. "Yes, but she is going along," Myra said, in a clumsy attempt to tease me. Karl actually blushed, for the first time since we had known him, 1 think. But he soon recovered his nerve. All our excitement about California was for naught, however. Madams changed her mind. One day, not long afterwards, Madame call ed Myra and me, and Karl, and about a dozen others of the players into her office for a con lercnce. before this Myra and I had Just worked In a haphazard fashion, one day we would be in a comedy, the next in p drama; one day I would be leading lady, 'the next supporting Myra or some other player. Now, Madame pi'oposed to organize two companies and put Myra at the head of one in Blap-stick comedy, with Mr. Stephens as di rector, and Karl Fisher as leading man, and me zfs leading woman in dramas. A new actor was to be bi ought in to support me, and 1 was to direct my own company, bless my life, with the assistance of a Mr. Jackson, who was to be the character man. He had been a regular stage director, and a moat excellent one. My, how big we felt over this. And the best part of It was that we got another raise, and found ourselves signing the weekly pay roll for $65. Oh, but we were climbing, and climbing fast. The new plan went into effect the next week. Mr leading man, an actor of the old school who hari forsaken the stage for the movies about six months before, came on from Chicago, where he had been working with a company making Western subjects. His wife cams along and was given small parts by madame in one or the other of the dramatic companies. The wife was a much better performer than her husband, lie was impossible. Myrr. sized him up the very first day he came. "I'll bc-t he's a C. L.," she said. Tho initials C. L. rtand for a very inelegant but at the same time u most expressive movie -term. The good movie actor,works in utter disre gard of the camera, except when a close-up Is being made, when he must stare It right In the cyt. The regular stage player is accustomed to playing to an audience, and to him the camera represents the audience —and the first thing he must learn is to forget all about It and ]'lay to the other performers and scenery— anything but the lens. (!ood actors soon learn this, but your self-conscious and egotistical netor never does, lie wants to be in the spot light all tho time. An actor of this kind is called a C. L„ which translated, means a camera louse. My leading man was a C. L. of the most pronounced type. He stalled and strutted and waved his arms defects fatal enough in themselves —and he stared the camera out of countenance and screwed up his features and beetle-browed eyes In an attempt to make up tor the loss of his speech, his one strong point on the regular stft!?e. Madame released him after one week, and he left In higly, dudgeon, with many cutting remarks about the movies being a low form of art. There 1 was without a leading roan, and It looked as if I would have to go on doing my haphazard work, when Karl Fisher, who did not like to work in comedy, suggested that he be put in us my lead, and Myra, who was really the whole show in her company und did not need leading support, was to be allowed to work without a regular lead. Madame adopted tho suggestion, and Karl and l.ttle mo became the heads of a dramatic com- I any. which —if I do say it that shouldn't— imi; 'em sit up and take notice all over the country. We got "all set" and made two little dramas the first week, and then one day two big animal cages ruinblcd Into the lot and a half do*en animal trainers unloaded a black bear, . two wildcats and a leopard Into cages the penters had made for them just behind m drccplng room. Madame had caught the wild animal craze then becoming popular and proposed making a lot of pictures with me ns a Jungle queen! For the first and only time in my experience in the pictures 1 was scared. I never coi*M abide wild animals. Whenever I visited a zoo 1 always felt much better on leaving than on going in. 1 was afraid of big dogs, and cats gave me the creeps. My uncle, with whom I lived for a while when I was a child, used to tell a story about taking mo to a circus. He said the lion, which was old and blind and had to be fed on mush, roared, and 1 set up another roar and made more noise tnan the lion, and I wouldn't stop until 1 was taken home. He raid I scared the poor 1100 so that it crept back In the far corner of its csge and hid its head In shame for being out roared. I took one look at the men unloading the ani mals and that was enough. I got the creeps and the shivers and didn't sleep a wink that night, and Myra'comforted me with: "Oh, they won't eat you; you're too '
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