JACK DEMPSEY THE PERFECT LOVER

Manawatu Times, Volume XLXI, Issue 3482, 16 December 1926, Page 5

JACK DEMPSEY THE PERFECT LOVER

HIS WIPE SAYS HIS SOFTER SH)E IS WONDERFUL. Can a fighter, whose whole life has been spent in the atmosphere of the prize-ring, make love gracefully? This question, pot hy a special representative of the “Sunday Chronicle,” to Miss Estelle Taylor, the film star, who married Jack Dempsey, the heavyweight boxer, was emphatically answered in the affirmative. “Is Jack a Romeo? Why, Romeo couldn’t qualify as his sparring partner,” declared Miss Taylor. “Just look at him. I have to open the window for him to throw out bis chest Could any girl withstand that? “What girl doesn’t want to be a lion tamer? When Jack looks mad every girl shudders and wants to marry him.

“Then he knows how to be gentle. There is something wonderful about a big man affected by moonlight “In his way. Jack is an artist He has ‘-‘learned his stuff,’ and he won’t tell me where. Just think of being held by arms that can crush you like cardboard —and then finding them as gentle as a woman’s.” Telephone Romance. Misg Taylor met Jack Dempsey 10 years ago in a telephone booth. Jack declares that it was a case of love at first sight. When they were introduced Miss Taylor was in a Now York dramatic academy, tasting tho first disappointments that come to seekers after fame from the footlights, while Jack was doing gymnasium work. However, he found time to ’phone Miss Taylor every day. “I learned to love him when I learned to rely on him, to transfer my troubles to his shoulders,” she said. “One day there were rather serious troubles at the studio. I went to Jack and cried on his shoulder.

“He straightened all the troubles out. He wag a real friend, his advice was impersonal. Ho didn’t try to take my Itand and say: ‘There, little girl, lot’s go to a show and talk this over.’ I was then I discovered how much I needed him. “Why, I should have married Jack if he had never beaten anybody In his life. X love him because he is a real man, with a big, Kind heart. I think of him as a man, not as a champion. Girls want someone to do the battling for them, someone that’s always there when he’s needed. That’s Jack.” Giving and Giving. There is no friction in Dempsey’s home life. "Marriage,” propounded Miss Taylor, “is a matter of giving and giving and giving.” Miss Taylor, who was brought up in Wilmington, Delaware, where mackerel is the order every Friday, loathes the smell of fish. Consequently, she and her husband have agreed that instead of calling up on certain nights and fibbing, “Dear, I am detained at the gymnasium,” Dempsey will come out truthfully with, "I am out with tho hoys eating fish.” The matter of naming children was successfully compromised. Dempsey will name the girls, Mrs Dempsey will name the boys. But tho number is another problem. Jack wants five, but hig wife only wants two. "However,” said Miss Taylor, “we won’t count our chickens before they are hatched, because Jack’s mother thought she would ».-it have any but got eleven, and wanted more. Sho is sixty-six years old, and doesn’t feel forty. We’ll name them as they come.”

Jack wants his children to stop out and strangle the world with bare hands. He feels that in the heat of conflict, experience, suffering, the stool of character is smelted. Miss Taylor, however, believes in smoothing- the road considerably. Sho wants her daughters to be good cooks, and athletic, to marry good men and escape tho heart aches she herself found in a professional career. Whenever a deadlock of opinions is reached in the Dempsey family, the decision depends on the toss of a coin.

The question of the brilliant boxer’s ability at love-making was answered by: “It is his softer and finer side that is so wonderful. Ho remembers the little things that count towards making up a happy home.”

"Jack saved my life," added Miss Taylor. “That is usually reason enough for a girl to love a man. I was to chistcn an aeroplane and then go up in it, a 'stunt’ for Lnsky’s. Jack locked mo up until it wna too late to go. I-aaky’s were having assorted fits. The ’plane crashed, killing the occupants. Lasky’s turned their hymn of hate to a vote of thanks.”