New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1918-07-28

Who remembers the song we used
TO sing years ago, when we were all
tiny children, called "Sweet Annie
Moore" The chorus said "Annie
Moore, Sweet Annie Moore, we'll
never see sweet Annie any more"
Well, we begin to think that this
disappearing habit was trait of the
Moore family. They are like will O the
wisps and never have we been able to
grab one.
Last winter we had an order for
an interview with Owen Moore, for
which we were to receive the eouiva-
lent of one Liberty bond. 1t sounded
easy, but it wasn't and we may as we'll
say right here that any Liberty bond
which we own was not made possible
By our little talk with Owen Moore"
There WAS no talk, or at least, only
over the phone. He was delightfully."-
pleasant, but elusive-oh, so elusive.
So one day when we were over to
the Goldwyn studio to see Mae Marsh,
we met Tom Moore and told him that
we had designs on him. We wished to
interview him! He looked around
wildly, and said: They're calling me
for this scene. Will you call me up
at the Friars, if you don't mind? I'm
always there when I'm not somewhere
else" See! Elusive stuff again! So
we waited and bided our time. For, as
the movies say, Little All-Aloney
Never Forgets."
&c. yesterday we called up the office
and consulted the P. A, who was a
Tribune man before he listened to the
voice of Mammon and went over to the
movies, and he promised US that Tom
Moore would be at the studio waiting
for us-and he was.
We WS1S tS11iOiy Dull p&lSCO W SEC
him and we told him so and told him
why.
ooh, I know Owen would rather do
anything than be interviewed, and as a
matter Of fact I should myself. I
really am terrified Of people who write
things. I don't believe any man likes
to see himself quoted in the paper"
NO" we answered. "Of course not.
They ell hate it! Why, don't you
know, you foolish infant, that you
must have publicity if you are going
to be a star? You couldn't possibly
get along without US any more than we
could get along without you" Here
We patted Tom on the shoulder and
tried to make him feel at home. But
that was before we found out how old
he was. We asked him this question
soon enough, when the draft was dis
cussed. He replied by asking us how
old we thought. We said "twenty-
four" and being Irish, this is what he
said. "Why, if I were ten years older
I'd be old enough to be my own father
II | were tWenty-fOur.
Tom is the most natural person in
the world. He doesn't even make up
for the screen, but he says he will
have to now, for he has a brand new
coat of tan. He was born in County
Mayo, but almost as soon as that in
teresting event took place, another
event of almost equal interest oc-
cured. Toms parents came to Ameri-
With him a wonderful accent, which he
never has lost
at isn't an accent that I have, nor
brogue," said Tom, and we wish we
could reproduce his tone. II don't know
what it is at all, but every one knows
am Irish. l once lost good part on
the stage on account Of this voice. I
went for part in Madame K and the
manager said to me: What nationality
are you" American answered.
Yes said he. That's all right, but I
can't have a Frenchman with an Irish
accent
So then I tried to modify my &C.
cent and / think succeeded in elimin-
ating the Irish from my voice, while
was on the stage. Now am booked up
for the silent drama it doesn't matter
and can enjoy myself and be natural"
And then we told Mr.. Moore about
The letter we got, saying: "Please in
tervlew Tom Moore. I adore him, but I
don't suppose you will, because he
wears belted coats"
"Ah, but DON'T" retorted the re-
EQUITABLE Tom. "I discarded them
after read what you wrote about
them. All the belts that were loose I