Mr. Sennett had come to the movies via the chorus of musical comedy. It also was understood he had had a previous career as a trainer for lightweight boxers. If there was one person in the studio that never would be heard from--well, we figured that person would be Mack Sennett. He played policemen mostly--and what future for a movie policeman? His other supernumerary part was a French dude. But he was very serious about his policeman and his French dude. From persistent study of Max Linder--the popular Pathé comique of this day--and adoption of his style of boulevardier dressing, spats, boutonnière, and cane, Mr. Sennett evolved a French type that for an Irishman wasn’t so bad. But even so, to all of us, it seemed hopeless. Why did he take so much pains? He got by pretty well when any social flair was unnecessary; when Mary Pickford and I played peasants, tenement ladies, and washwomen, Mack occasionally loved, honored, and cherished us in the guise of a laborer or peddler. He had a muscle-bound way about him in these serious rôles--perhaps he was made self-conscious by the sudden prominence. But Mary and I never minded. The extra girls, however, made an awful fuss when they had to work in a comedy with Sennett, for he clowned so. They would rather not work than work with Sennett. How peeved they’d get! “Oh, dear,” they’d howl, “do I have to work with Sennett?” Now ’tis said he is worth five millions! In “Father Gets in the Game,” an early release, Sennett is seen as the gay Parisian papa, the Linder influence plainly in evidence. Mr. Griffith was more than willing, if he could find a good story with a leading comedy part suitable to Mr. Sennett, to let him have his fling. Finally, one such came along--quite legitimate, with plenty of action, called “The Curtain Pole”--venturesome for a comedy, for it was apparent it would exceed the five-hundred-foot limit. It took seven hundred and sixty-five feet of film to put the story over. Released in February, 1909, it created quite a sensation. The natives of Fort Lee, where “The Curtain Pole” was taken, were all worked up over it. Carpenters had been sent over a few days in advance, to erect, in a clearing in the wooded part of Fort Lee, stalls for fruits, vegetables, and other foodstuffs. The wreckage of these booths by M. Sennett in the guise of _M. Dupont_ was to be the big climax of the picture. The “set” when finished was of such ambitious proportions--and for a comedy, mind you--that we were all terribly excited, and we concluded that while it had taken Mr. Sennett a long time and much coaxing to get himself “starred,” it was no slouch of a part he had eventually obtained for himself.