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Photo by Koya
Alice Joyce received a touching letter from an old lady, whose yearning to read to her grandchildren was denied.
CHILDREN have always had nursery gods to whom they might look for the fruition of their dreams. But there has never been any source to which those too old for such beliefs might turn, until the motion-picture people, mythical in their wealth and fame, came to fill this need.
A screen star receives from one to five thousand letters every week. Most of them begin with flowery compliments, and end with requests for autographed pictures. But there are other letters which creep in, here and there, to reveal the longings many people silently hug to their hearts. And it is these that make fan mail a veritable clearing house for dreams.
Young dreams, old dreams, wise dreams and foolish dreams. There seems to be no end to them. All classes, all ages, and all nationalities write. And often enough, it is that which can be read between the lines, in the postmark and in the writing paper, that speaks more eloquently than the words themselves.
The Clearing Dreams
By Adele
Tragedy doesn't spend itself only in those things that are reported on the front pages of newspapers. Sometimes it can be heard in the weeping of young girls who lie with unloved faces turned to the wall. And adolescence, especially, brings difficult years. After all, it is only through the vicissitudes of youth that we ever come to the harbor of maturity.
When a girl reaches the beau age without acquiring a beau, her friends may make some half-hearted attempts to supply her with dancing partners and escorts. But, continuing to prove a social problem, she is dropped from the circle, and dreary days and sleepless nights are certain to follow.
It must have been a shock to Anna Mason to learn how quickly you can be frozen out of your own set. No wonder she turned to a picture star — but that part of Anna's story comes later.
Evidently Anna knew none of the tricks other girls instinctively employ. She never lowered her eyes when the boys talked to her. She never tossed her skirts when she passed a field where they were playing ball. And when almost everything under
the sun came to have Unloved during her high a new and mysterischool days, a girl sought ous meaning to Anromance in writing to War na's friends, she had ner Baxter. no understanding of
the romantic undercurrents. How could she know the thrill of receiving a note passed across the classroom in an algebra book, when algebra books had never disclosed to her anything more exciting than that x equals the unknown quan-. tity?
Talk invariably centered on the last dance, or the next dance. And Anna would have ceased going out. It is hateful to be a wallflower, while other girls dance past the sofa where you sit, trying hard to keep your feet out of the way. It is impossible to make believe you're having a good time, when a lump keeps pressing in your throat. And it