Photoplay Magazine, January 1921 (anuary 1921)

Photoplay Magazine — Advertising Section Bill Hart's True Love Story (Concluded from page 37) IO9 triumphing nightly as a Spanish girl in "Marta of the Lowlands," was taking her five o'clock siesta, courting freshness and luminous beauty for the night's performance. She rose from her couch, raised her arms above her head, wreathing her dark face and tumbling hair in their white frame, and looked out into the murk of the autumn evening. Out of the gray sky a slow, heavy rain fell. Flash! Crash! A shower of falling glass. A moan. Miss Riccardo lay upon the floor. A red stain was spreading upon the white fur rug. A bullet had seared the white skin beneath her heart and gone its glancing way into the wall. There were confused, conflicting stories of the event. Miss Riccardo, recovering from her swoon, said: "I looked into the street and saw two men quarreling. One drew a revolver. The other man ran The bullel struck me instead of him." The police speculated about an attempt at suicide. Her friends laughed at this. "Cor- ona, young, beautiful, successful, to want to kill herself. The peak of the ridiculous!" There were tales too. of professional jeal- ousy. There was one of a repulsed, love- maddened countryman of hers. Miss Ric- cardo, recovering quickly, smiled in her slow, seductive way. and said: "Don't make a novel of the quarrel of two longshoremen in • he street." Broadway, with wise eyes and shrugging shoulders, said, "Perhaps!" Soon thereafter Broadway missed Miss Riccardo. She went on a long tour of the West. She was playing an Indian sketch on a two-year circuit. She might have been forgotten, for the memory of the busy high- way of amusement is, if not brief, uncer- tain. But came an amazing letter from a Rroadway star on tour. "Don't think I am crazy," she wrote from a town in the far southwest, "but I know that I saw Corona Riccardo in front with a group of Indians and their squaws. She saw me and smiled a little. I would know her glorious eyes anywhere. While I was taking a curtain call I saw her walking out of the theater behind a tall man that they afterwards told me was her husband. He wore high eagle feathers in his headdress. She wore a squaw's deerskin skirt and shirt. Fancy luxurious Corona, who loved Paris gowns! I nearly fainted from the shock. But I must say there was happiness in her face They say her Indian sketch brought them together." Three years ago a white woman w;'s found desperately ill in rented rooms in Kansas City. With her were an Indian chief, Silver Tongue, and her six year old son who shared the soft beauty of the mother and the stoic strength of the father. The. trio were Silver Tongue, his white squaw and their child. The woman who had abjured the white race to follow her Indian lord into the In- dian cities of the southwest, died, after all, among her own people and ministered to by their customs, in the General Hospital. To an humble grave in Saint Mary's Cemetery she was followed by her mourning husband and son and by one woman whose faded beauty and flashes of vivid personality he- spoke the mimic art. They have told of her last words, uttered with an accompanying smile: "Death is alike for all who die." William S. Hart read the brief last chron- icle of Corona Riccardo. He spoke no word about it. But those who knew them best remembered and said, "Corona Riccardo was the love of William Hart's life." Mary! Mary! (Concluded from page 53) 1 do not feel the same tenderness for her, but she is an honest, kindly soul, in whom lurks nothing but rough and simple meaning. Nowhere in the garden do I find anything but that which is clean and decent. All honor to your gardening, Mary. A stray wind blows a vagrant hair across my eyes. For a moment I can not see. But I feel the tenderness of the twilight and I sense the gardener walking in her gar- den flutterng here and there in the purple shadows. As I brush away the offending wisp I see Mary. Here and there she stops to ad- monish and reprove. Here and there she removes an offending weed or insect, ever careful, ever watchful. I follow her with curious interest. She passes down through the pansy beds ;'nd past the lily paths. Her eyes are set in the distance and I do not comprehend that which she sees. Then I sec her stop. It is before a huge red rose bush, red with the redness of love that she halts her steps. I hold my breath and no movement of her escapes me. I too smell the perfume "~^fe of the rose. It is virile and strong and full of promise. Then I see her draw a giant bough toward her—thorns and all—and press it to her soft lips. I am afraid for her, and yet as the gar- dener says "all gladness must be paid for in some cash or other" and who is she to flinch at the wound of the thorn. O rose bush, King of all the gardener's garden, draw in your thorns for her I Do not bruise the redness of that gentle mouth. The night's sweet gloom descends on her, hiding her from sight, and we breathe a prayer to you, that in your strength you may be tender. We - shall often peer above the hedge and watch for the gardener in the cool and peace of the evening. May we always see her as now, radiant and sweet and infinitely subtle. Pour forth your richest sceni«. O rose! not only for your own rose's sake but f or hers as well. She deserves peace after the battle—peace ineffable and all comprehen- sive. Mary! Mary! Long may vour garden grow. ~3>-<A West Hair Nets—Cap and TrinKC Shape—ail colors —Beach and Motor, 15c; Tourist, 3 for 50c; (iold Seal, 25c. The WEST Way Is the BEST Way To Make and Keep Your Hair Beautiful Just three things you need to have beautiful hair—West Softex Sham- poo, West Electric Hair Curlers and West Hair Nets. U West Softex Shampoo — natural for dark hair and prepared with henna fo r blonde. 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