MARY AND DOUGLAS

Wanganui Herald, Volume LIII, Issue 160735, 23 August 1920, Page 6

MARY AND DOUGLAS

WHAT LONDON MADE OP THEM. LONDON, June 14. Hie reception that Maty Pickford got when sh-o came to London was bigger than E. G. Theodore got, and almost as big as William Morris Hughes would expect. The Worst of being the world’s 1 sweetheart is that all rhe world wants' to embrace you at the same time. That Would -be perfectly agroable if the multitude would just stand off for a frhile and allow its idol to make a selection of the fittest, but on this occasion—and this occasion only—the London crowd positively refused to form up into queue. When the film queen’s ship neared pert she had an early intimation that some fuss was about to be mad© of her. Aeroplanes raced out to meet the vessel, and when they circled above it, dropped flowers and dainty missives, and somehow Mary knew that they must he for her. She was weeping tears of joy when she set foot ashore, and within two seconds she was on the verge of weeping tears of pain, the mnltiude was so set on showing its kindly disposition towards her and Douglas. That afternoon London newspaper pesters were jF study. One just remarked “Mary!” in its very splashiest type; another said, “Mary and Douglas Arrive”; and another, “Mafy’s Here.” We have a Queen in England of the same name, and a popular Princess also. But while Mary and Douglas are here the honours seem to be all to them. It is lucky for Mary that her Douglas is a big man with shoulders like a policeman and a determined expression behind that smile. He has saved tho somewhat fragile little lady from being mangled by multitudinous mauling over and over again during the past few days. Now we know exactly why it was that Mary married Douglas; she knew she was coming to England. The picture pair have been in the metropolis four days, but it is still impossible to get along Picadilly owing to the crush outside the Eitz Hotel, There Douglas and Mary are staying officially, although they have hired a flat round the corner. The two homes arc unexplained. Perhaps that is' the way film artists have of showing their superiority. In Piccadilly top-hatted plutocrats and women mounting draperies that mush have cost fortunes because they economise the material so, have been congregated daily as if in emulation of Sam McCaughey’s sheep, until they have caught a glimpse of Mr and Mrs Fairbanks. A_fter that they have been converted, as if by the action of an electric button, into a raging, stamping, shrieking, hair-pulling, swearing, and clothes-sacrificing rabolc, all because they wanted to show Mary that they loved her. And everywhere that Mary went tho cram was sure to go. It followed her to a theatrical garden party at Chelsea, toppled her out of her motor-car, dragged her this way and that, tore most of the clothes off her, did its best to knock her down and trample on her, and would have done so if the pressure had not been so great as to keep her standing, and it was all done in a spirit of worshipping, loving kindness. Mary and Douglas failed to got through to the show at all. They very wisely went back to one of their homes, and called in the doctor, and lie told the world’s sweetheart that she would have to rest and avoid a collapse. And Mary’s comment on all this, in a newspaper article under her own name, is that “English people have been coming to seo me, and they are all most kind.” As for her husband, one is inclined to regret that such a very nice man on the filmj should put the American over 1 on us. Ho remarks that “it is the biggest tiling ever,” and he has also been telling us that “a rubber-neck buckaroo like myself just thrives on it.” Another report states: Men rushed forward to shake hands with the cinema tiiiecn, and women pressed round for a chance to kiss her. Even babies were hold up for a kiss, and more than on© was lucky. At last Mary was lifted shoulder-high and carried for 2CO yards or more. A bouquet and an illuminated address. signed bv 4000 people, were to have been presented at the station, but the crowd' v as too strong, and Mary and tiro presenter wore swept apart. At last tho couple reached a reserved compartment, and left for 'Waterloo. Here the “scenes” commenced afresh. Tho blinds of the carriage had been drawn down, but the crowd guessed the secret, and, headed by more photograph ors and cinema men, gathered round the closed door. Mary had finished with the garden party. It might have marvellous attractions—but there was just a suggestion that in a little time British frigidity might begin to melt. Wherefore Douglas chartered a motor-car by the simple process of jumping into tho first, ho saw, and, with Mary, retired—hurriedly. At the Eitz Hotel Douglas left his wife and sallied forth to a. private view in Soho Square of the films taken of the arrival at Southampton. As he left the hotel a. girl boarded his car. “Take me with you, Douglas,” she cried. Douglas looked surprised, anti before he could say anything the girl got in. She was panting with excitement, and, as she sat down beside him, she put her arm through his, and explained that she was dying to act with him if he made any films in England. Douglas was exceedingly diplomatic, hut the -.girl was not to be so easily put off. “If you are so persistent all through your life,” said Douglas, with a smile, “Gee, you’ll do great tilings.” The girl dogged his footsteps into tho private theatre. There trace was lost of her, but Douglas said he was certain that could not he the last of her. Outside the theatre a large crowd of children, waiting for their well-loved “stars,” fell lustily on Douglas as ho

made his way across the pavement. From the first-floor window he made a little speech telling them that Mary was not “fit” enough to come along, but he would take their love to hetoanct the children cheered. The cduple went to ihe Alhambra to see “Johnny Jones. ' “What cheer, Mary !” said George 1 Robey, when he came on the stage. During the interval the whole house' gave itself up to Cheering Mary and Douglas, who sat in a box draped with Stars and Stripes and the Union Jack, and then demanding a speech. In his most approved film manner Douglas made a short ore. He said it was all “wonderful,” “marvellous,” and that everyone would rather hear Mary (“Marie,” as he calls his wife) than him. Mary and Douglas laughed at everything George did and said. The strain of London’s uproarous welcome was too much for Mary. She became nervous and indisposed, and on the advice of a specialist haa gone into Surrey for a rest. The inevitable scrimmage took place as she and Douglas Fairbanks boarded their car outside the Eitz, However, by the use of “shock” tactics, surprise, and a dozen policemen, the parr escaped more than an ordinary mauling. They called in at Wimbledon on their way into the country, and the “movie” queen greet ed Mile. Lenglen, the French woman ter nig champion. Mary Pickford to id something of her impressions. Mary lives simply. She does nob dress extravagantly, favouring the almost childish little frocks and hats in which we love to see her on the films; she wears little jewellery, and has the simplest taste in food. Utterly uaturaly and unspoiled by all tho glamour that surrounds her name and her personality, she speaks from her heart like a happy child. “Girls have told me in their letters over and over again that they ‘wonder what it feels like to Be Mary Pickford’,” she said. “Now, I just want to tell them that when you get right down to the essentials of happiness it doesn’t feel so very different from being any other Mary. To love and to be loved is at the root of all happiness, and the most famous man or woman who misses love cannot be envied. Douglas isn’t conceited! He is just a jolly boy still. And I—no, my head has never been turned, though it may-very easily be true that I’ve had more love-letters than any girl in the world.”