Mary Pickford and a bunch of other kids who risk their precious necks to flee a slimy baby farm. That’s Sparrows. There are quicksands, alligators and, worse than any reptiles, Gustav Von Seyffertitz, the keeper, as realistic a vile scoundrel as ever breathed. It’s not conducive to pretty dreams, but Mary is sweet and wistful and kiddish and has some appealing scenes. […] This may not be another Pollyanna but you will enjoy it.

«Photoplay», August 1926

My picture Sparrows wasn’t too successful, comparatively speaking, because of an error of judgement. We tried to put too much drama into it. In the swamp scene, I had to carry some children along a narrow board – five or six inches wide – across an alligator infested pool. The alligators were alive, and very active. The old ones are rather sluggish – they live to quite an age – but the young ones of seventy- five are vicious. I carried this heavy baby on my shoulder, and she kept moving from one side to the other. It was very dangerous. I was worried most about the baby – although I admit I didn’t exactly relish the idea of the alligators’ teeth… I said to the director: «I’ll have to rehearse this with a doll on my back. We can weight it to make it heavier.» I made the trip across three times one way and three times the other. Then Douglas Fairbanks was told about it, and he raced over. He was furious. […] I had complete control over the direction if I wanted to use it, but, you see, I didn’t use it. I would today. But now I’m older – and as we get older we get more positive. Anyhow, it was so terrifying for many people seeing babies in such danger that Sparrows didn’t do as well as it might have done.

Mary Pickford, in Kevin Brownlow, The Parade’s Gone By…, New York, Alfred A. Knopf, 1968