MINNIE FLYNN marked off a date on the calendar that hung in the kitchen over the sink. It was October 24, 1914.
On that day, she began her career as a motion picture actress. She made three dollars and fifty cents as an extra girl at a moving picture studio in New Jersey, and signed the voucher slip, Mineola Flynn. All this, even to the Mineola, which lent some distinction to the commonplace name of Flynn, was inspired and arranged by Al Kessler.
On that memorable morning, when Mrs. Flynn came into her daughter's bedroom to awaken her at six o'clock, for the first time in her life Minnie sprang out of bed without protest. Mrs. Flynn had already put a quarter in the gas meter, so there was light to dress by. They moved around the room quietly so as not to awaken Nettie.
"I've got good coffee ready for you, Minnie dear," whispered Mrs. Flynn, "and some warmed-up beans."
"Lord, ma, how do you expect me to eat anything? I'm sick to my stummick right now with excitement."
Mrs. Flynn made a grimace of despair. "Look here, Minnie dear," she implored, "how can you act if you ain't got a good meal in you? Your pa went out and got them beans himself last night at the delicatessen. He says to me, 'Annie, don't let that child go out of this house, clean over to Jersey, without a good breakfast in her.' So the least you can do, Minnie, is to take a bit if only to please your father."
