“The Habit of Happiness” was rich in stunts that would have made even Battling Nelson turn to tatting with a sigh of relief.  Five gangsters, sicked on to their work by the villain, waylaid our hero on the stairs, and in the rough-and-tumble that followed, it was his duty to beat each and every one of them into a state of coma.  He performed his task so conscientiously that his hands were swollen for a week, not to mention his eyes and nose.  As for the five extra men who posed as the gangsters, all came to the conclusion that dock-walloping was far less strenuous than art, and went back to their former jobs.

“The Good Bad Man” was a Western picture that contained a thrill to every foot of film.  Our hero galloped over mountains, jumping from crag to crag, held up an express train single-handed in order to capture the conductor’s ticket-punch, grappled with gigantic desperadoes every few minutes, shot up a saloon, and was dragged around for quite a while at the end of a lynching party’s rope.

“Reggie Mixes In” was one joyous round of assault and battery from beginning to end.  Happening to fall in love with a dancer in a Bowery cabaret, Reggie puts family and fortune behind him and takes a job as “bouncer” so as to be near his lady-love.  Aside from his regular duties, he is required to work overtime on account of the hatred of a gang-leader who also loves the girl.  Five scoundrels jump Reggie, and, after manhandling four, he drops from a second-story window to the neck of the fifth, and chokes him with hands and legs.  After which he carries the senseless wretch down the street, and gaily flicks him, as it were, through a window at the villain’s feet.  As a tasty little finish, Reggie and his rival lock themselves in an empty room, and engage in a contest governed by packing-house rules.

Three days after the combat, by the way, the company heads were pleased to announce that both men were out of danger unless blood-poisoning set in.

[Illustration:  Here’s Hoping! (White Studio)]

“The Mystery of the Leaping Fish” was what is known as a “water picture,” and “Doug,” as a comedy detective, was compelled to make a human submarine of himself, not to mention several duels in the dark with Japanese thugs and opium smugglers.

“Another day of it,” he grinned, “and I’d have grown fins.”

“Manhattan Madness” was really nothing more than St. Vitus’s dance set to ragtime.  Our hero climbed up eaves-pipes, plunged through trap-doors down into dungeons, jumped from the roof of a house into a tree, kicked his way in and out of secret closets, and engaged in hair-raising combats with desperate villains every few minutes.

It is not only the case that “Doug” Fairbanks made good with the movie fans.  What is more to the point, he made good with the “bunch” itself.  In nine cases out of ten, the “legitimate” star, going over into pictures, evades and avoids the “rough stuff.”  To some humble, hardy “double” is assigned the actual work of falling off the cliff, riding at full speed across granite hedges, taking a good hard punch in the nose, or plunging from the top of the burning building.