_By Miss Dinkie Devereux, the renowned Film Favourite._
The Editor of _The Weekly Newsbag_ has kindly asked me to write
an article on the duty which we denizens of Flickerland owe to
the public. This, it happens, is a subject that has long given me
"furiously to think," as a witty Frenchman once said in French. It may
be of interest, by the way, to state that I am myself partly of Gallic
extraction, my mother having been a Lyons girl before she was enabled
to open a tea-shop of her own; and, although born and bred in what
I am proud to call my native country, I can even now act just as
fluently in a French film as in an all-British production.
But I must not let my thoughts run away with my pen, fascinating
though such cross-country excursions may be. To return to my appointed
topic, heavy indeed is the burden that is laid on the back of a cinema
star. You who know me only as the reigning queen of countless
Palaces may possibly imagine that my life is spent in flitting
butterfly-fashion from film to film, existing only for the golden
moment. But one is not born a butterfly, nor does one remain so
without constant effort. The strenuous nature of my labours indeed
necessitates frequent periods of recuperation, which I seek either
in my Highland fastness, or on my Californian peach-farm, or amid
the lotus-bushes of my villa on the Riviera. This, then, is one of my
first duties to the public--to preserve that Heaven-sent talent which,
in the words of mighty MILTON, "is death to hide." (MILTON, I may
say, is my favourite poet next to GEORGE R. SIMS, and "Odont" is my
favourite mouth-wash.)
But the intervals between pictures are not all play. When I receive
notice of a forthcoming production in which my services are entreated
(and I owe it to humanity not to refuse my co-operation provided
certain bothersome preliminaries of a financial nature are
successfully negotiated), I spend a considerable time steeping myself
in the atmosphere of the part I am to fill. One of my most famous
_roles_, as I need hardly mention, is that of _Lilian the Lift-Girl_,
in the great Solomonson six-reeler, _Ups and Downs_. In order to
prepare for this momentous undertaking I used to visit Whiteridge's
Stores daily and devote an hour or so to travelling in the elevators;
only thus could I hope to attain the proper perspective. The
attendants of course knew me well and used to ply me with gifts of
chocolates, etc.; but after a time I was compelled to refuse these
touching offerings because my chauffeur has a tendency to biliousness.
Then there is the sacred duty of looking after what my Press agent
is good enough to call my "unearthly charm." I do not agree with
the _dictum_ that "we are as Heaven made us," and I am sure no film
enterprise could carry on successfully on those lines. Of course
you must have something to work upon, and for the bare edifice of my
beauty, which in all humility I admit was raised by other hands than
mine, I claim no special praise. But I think I may justly take
credit for the structural alterations I have effected and for the
self-sacrificing labours I have willingly undergone to maintain each
of my features at its maximum efficiency; to these the advertisement
columns of the papers bear constant testimony.
(In passing let me observe that I have always found Mrs. Phipps's
Face-Fodder of invaluable assistance in "that fierce light which beats
upon the screen," as dear old TENNYSON--another great favourite of
mine--so nearly said.)
Naturally enough the public is always ravenous for information
concerning the minutest details of my life, and to prevent
disappointment in this respect I send the Press a daily budget of
my doings, entitled _Dinkie Day by Day_. That is another burden I
cheerfully shoulder, and by this method my admirers are kept fully
acquainted with what I may call the real me--with the heart that
beats beneath the shadowed counterfeit. Nevertheless at times the most
absurd rumours get abroad. Recently, for example, I saw it stated in
quite a reputable organ that my favourite jam is blackberry-and-apple;
as a matter of fact I find all jams ruinous to the figure, and as a
tea-relish I usually limit myself to the more ascetic bloater-paste,
with salmon-and-shrimp as an occasional variant.
My pet hobby is collecting precious stones, and my favourites among
these are pearls and diamonds, especially of the larger variety.
Frequently admirers of my art who know of this harmless foible are
good enough to add to my collection, and these spontaneous tributes
are among the compensations of a life dedicated at every moment of the
day to the public service.
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[Illustration: DIRECT REACTION.