From Robinson-Locke--vol. 41--p.82

By Amye Leslie--Chicago News--October 25, 1919

That people confound individual traits of players with the roles they assume in plays is not remarkable, even unto the excess in one young lady who refused to meet the picturesque Eleanora Harris "because she always played adventuress and murderess."

But the most amusing mirage of this character is the belief that the beautiful young gentleman and celebrated heroes of stage romance are among the Beau Brummells of the hour. It is only the varitey climber, the two-a-day star and the continuous reacher for a head line in vaudeville who make it a point of business to be "a good dresser on and off."

I was thrilled by an advertisement claiming that the tailor shop of the advertiser alone in all the big, big town could guarantee to turn out every one of their gent customers as "John Barrymores of the season." There's a laugh for everybody knowing and loving John and a bracer for Jack himself. As a matter of fact, thought, Jack is undeniably one of the handsomest men of the stage, he never wears an thing made to fit him, never spends money on his clothes, wears all of his friends' shirts and collars, cuffs that won't match and coats of an entirely different era from his trousers (if Jack's could be so termed) and hats from the ones left in check after the crwod has had its pick. He revels in visits to Uncle Jack Drew, who is the beau of beaus, and stocks up as if he were a bridggroom every six weeks.

Both Jack and Lionel are artists of the scalpel and brush. Lionel is a sculptor recognized at the academies abroad and Jack paints and is a brilliant cartoonist, a black and white dilettante. But they throw their wide knowledge of clothes into the flaming assets summing up such magnificent dramatic talents as they possess.

Ten Years Ago in PHOTOPLAY

This month a little tow-head named Dolores Costello is playing hop-scotch in Brooklyn, N. Y., a pretty kid with a snub nose.

Her daddy is "Dimples" Costello, already waning as the girls' dream of manly beauty.

At the same time, in PHOTOPLAY, we go for an actor named John Barrymore to the extent of two pages, with art.

strip tights and a blond wig, with the immortal profile always to the camera.

Jack Barrymore, knee deep in the thirties, cuts out clowning. A little girl named Dolores Costello, not yet in her teens, plays jackstraws with the Hipkins children next door.

No spook-faker arises to say that some day these twain, taking in something like $15,000 a week between them, will yes each other matrimonially in a land of sunshine 3,000 miles away.

Jack Barrymore

Ten years ago Jack was knee deep in the thirties and doing such farces as "The Man from Mexico" for the movies

Jack is in the thirties, with a funny slap-dash career already behind him.

From a silk hat Johnny in stage farce—the irresponsible, bad-boy kid of the Barrymore tribe—he has turned to silly movie stuff like “The Man from Mexico” and “On the Quiet.” In the thirties he has gone serious, and stunned his public with “Justice” and “Redemption” on the stage.

Still ahead are his theater triumphs in “The Jest” and “Hamlet.” Still ahead is his film career as a scented and high-powered lover in