A LAST CHAT WITH THE FAMOUS FRENCH
COMEDIAN BEFORE HE SAILED FOR AMERICA.
Surrounded by a multitudinous assortment of boxes, trunks, and clothes of every conceivable description, I came upon Max Linder, in the reception room of his luxurious apartments in the Champ de Mars, Paris.
I hardly needed his smiling explanation that he was packing his effects ready for his new adventure on the other side of the Atlantic. M. Linder's fondness for clothes is notorious, and his recent privations and hardships in the French Army seem to have sharpened rather than diminished his taste for sartorial effect.
M. Max Linder
"Yes," said he, "I am desolated to leave, but I have a contract with the Essanay Company, by which I have to turn out twelve films, for which I am to receive 2,000,000 francs. I shall be allowed to choose my fellow artistes, and I shall have the final choice in the selection of all my scenarios. I shall be working principally in Chicago, but if my health will not permit me to reside there the Essanay Company have kindly promised to construct a studio in any place I may mention."
"I have no idea when my first film will be shown in Europe," he stated, turning to bestow a rapturous glance on a newly opened box of silk cravats that a valet held out for his inspection. "In the new dressing case, Francois. But-no," he added as an afterthought. "Leave them with me. I would like to choose one for today."
"When are you definitely sailing for America," I asked, when I deemed I could gracefully interrupt.
"On the 28th of this month. In the meantime I am going to spend a few days with my family at Bordeaux."
"Will you give me a parting message for the readers of THE BIOSCOPE, M. Max?" I asked.
"Why, certainly. I would like to give them all one jolly big handshake. I hope it will be with them always what you call "thumbs up!" X. (The Bioscope, Oct. 19th 1916)