ROLLING home to Manhattan in her private car and with thirty-one trunks constituting her luggage, Geraldine Farrar reached New York on Friday of last week after completing her venture as a Lasky motion picture actress in California. Accompanying Miss Farrar were her mother, Mrs. Sidney Farrar, and Mrs. Morr.is Gest and her mother, Mrs. David Belasco. Philip, the Lasky office boy, met her with roses at Easton, as did Mr. Gest and others.

Miss Farrar’s arrival was fully chronicled by the newspapers (as, indeed, was her whole trip—to the extent of many scrap books full). She said she reveled in the motion picture work, after the limitations of the operatic stage, and she hustled around as a volunteer assistant stage director in the three pieces, “Carmen,” “Maria Rosa” and “The Temptation,” the last a play written for her by Hector Turnbull.

Most pungent of the accounts of the soprano’s home-coming was that given by Bide Dudley in the New York Evening World, as follows:

“Well, I’ve got ‘em all now.”

Geraldine Farrar, grand opera soprano extraordinaire and “movie” actress de luxe, said it just after stepping from a private car which bore her from the Lasky film studios at Hollywood, Cal., back to New York.

She meant that a vaster audience than she has been able to reach through her operatic work would now be hers through the medium of the films. In other words, she will be able to appear before both the chosen and the lowly; the rich and the poor—in fact, the entire amusement-loving public—and that is exactly what she wants to do.

“It was a wonderful experience,” she continued.

“Will it hurt your drawing power as an operatic star?”

“Watch the box office,” she replied quickly. “Ask the treasurer.”

“Will you act again in the movies’?”

“Oh, I hope to. And I shall if I retain my youth and figure.”

“But isn’t your efficiency reduced without the help of your voice?”

“Not at all! With me acting comes first. But my voice will be heard with the pictures I have made. The phonograph is to be used.”

“Would you advise other grand opera stars to take up ‘movie’ acting—Caruso, for instance.”

Miss Farrar smiled. “Yes, if they have the figure and acting ability,” she said.

The arrival of Miss Farrar at the Lehigh Terminal, Jersey City, attracted an unusual amount of attention. Everybody knew somebody of note was arriving. One car wiper, aware only that a singer was in, caught sight of John Flinn and Brock Pemberton walking away from the train together. He stepped up to Philip Whalen, the Lasky office boy, who was carrying a big bunch of American beauties and, pointing at the two young men, asked:

“Which one of ‘em is the singer, kid?”

“Oh, gee!” replied Philip. “De singer is Miss Jerry Fanington, not no man.”

“Did you buy them roses?” asked the car wiper.

“Who, me? Naw! I ain’t got no $50 bills to waste.”

When the diva stepped from the train a young woman who writes for a New York newspaper rushed up to her, with pencil and pad in hand.

“Oh, Miss Farrar,” she said, “what is the first thing you intend to do when you reach home?”

“Take a bath,” replied the soprano “movie” star.