The worried countenance of the bridegroom disturbed the best man.
Tiptoeing up the aisle, he whispered:
“What’s the matter, Jock? Hae ye lost the ring?”
“No,” blurted out the unhappy Jock, “the ring’s safe eno’. But, mon, I’ve
lost ma enthusiasm.”
* * * * *
It’s a sure sign of being in love if you shave twice.
_Movie-Land Gossip_
_Editor’s Note: In the March issue, The Whiz Bang will publish
a story for girls with movie ambitions. The scene of the story,
which is true to life, is woven about the home of a well-known
Hollywood character, Prince Troubetskoy. The Prince ranks as
one of the greatest sculptors in the world and his California
home saw many a high jinx. Do not miss this story, which tells
of the system used by designing men in leading astray the
unwary._
Doug Fairbanks must darn his own socks at night for all anyone ever sees
of him. He used to strut about town with Bull Montana, Kid McCoy, Spike
Robinson and a bunch of other retainers proudly walking in his wake. But
Mary must be charming Doug in wondrous fashion. He did show up with Mary
at the Mission theatre opening and the two marched between packed borders
of humanity at the curb.
Mary looked contented and as proud as a queen. Fairbanks formerly
appeared rather sloppy, but, in severe evening dress, he impressed his
auditors very well indeed. Evidently the two to date have made a hit with
one another.
At this writing, Nevada had poked its official nose into the
Fairbanks-Pickford marriage again. It seems the solons are about to
decide something momentous, which no one gives a hang about. As Kitty
Shepherd said down at Hamburgers: “They’re married, ain’t they?”
Mary Thurman is said to have moved from the Beverly Hills hotel. Mary
seemed to be in the money for awhile. It costs to live at Beverly. A
pretty thing, Mary, but life is just one thing after another.
Let us give vent, brethren, to a long sigh of relief that Mildred Harris
Chaplin has ceased yapping for the moment at least. Or is it just some
temporary lull that goes before another wind or brainstorm?
Now that Charles is said to have kicked thru with one (or was it
$200,000?) Mildred appears to have fired her parting shot and retreated
to a mystic place from which she is scheduled some day to emerge with a
knock ’em dead voice.
Far be it from us to dispute with a talkative lady or enter into argument
regarding the merits or demerits of her case. But the public in Los
Angeles grew almost afraid to glance at a morning paper for fear that the
fair Mildred has broken loose again with a new brand of dope regarding
the elusive Charles.
Along about the time that stomach settlers were being called into use as
a result of the slush credited to the comedian’s storm and strife, people
began to reflect that, though many crimes had been charged against his
curly head, Chaplin himself remained cloistered in a cloud of silence so
far as mention of the fair Mildred was concerned.
Millie did all the talking, or at any event the sob brothers and sisters
placed her in that light. One minute she was calling Charles a tight-wad
and the next stating that she loved him. Just how a woman can love a man
and simultaneously inform the wide, wide world that he is a cheap skate
passeth understanding.
Several million or so perfectly good white columns of newspaper space
were spoiled with the most wanton brand of domestic prattle ever dished
out in a city already weary with the frothy doings of its ultra frothy
society.
Then Chaplin’s attorneys announced that if Mildred shut up and quit using
the Chaplin name that she could take a couple of hundred thousand shekels
and call it quits.
The worst thing Chaplin ever was heard to say about his wife hasn’t been
printed, probably for the reason that the bepestered young man didn’t
say it. Chaplin may be a cheap skate, a nickel counter, and own but two
automobiles, but his closest friend and most persistent interviewer never
drew from him a word against the unfortunate partner of his domestic woes.
Chaplin has admitted that he had no business getting married in the
first place. He declared frankly that he wasn’t made that way. He said
that marriage interfered with his work and many believe that his sudden
dropping from the pictures was done with the deliberate intention of not
returning to it until his bread had been buttered on the other side.
It was more a surprise to Chaplin’s friends that he married in the first
place than a shock at reports of trouble that sounded their fanfare thru
the newspapers. Everyone thought he’d marry Edna Purviance, if he married
at all; though Miss Purviance’s feelings in the matter may not have been
given due consideration or interrogation by the gossip mongers.
* * * * *
Mary had a Thomas cat,
It warbled like Caruso;
A neighbor swung a baseball bat—
Now Thomas doesn’t do so.
* * * * *