Hollywood (Jan - Oct 1934)

How soft and soothing KLEENEX feels to tender little noses ! SORE, inflamed nostrils! Even more sensitive than grown-ups' ! Don't use harsh handkerchiefs, when the children have colds. Kleenex is so much more delicate and gentle. It affords untold relief. And it is safe. That's even more important. You use it once, then destroy it. Destroy germs that otherwise sift from handkerchief to hand . . . then contaminate others. Because handkerchiefs are like sieves. Germs slip right through them. Kleenex, however, holds germs fast . . . till it's destroyed. Soft, absorbent, inexpensive Kleenex— soft and marvelously absorbent — is now cheaper than laundering handkerchiefs. It does away with that unpleasant task, completely. Whenever anyone in the family has a cold, have them use Kleenex. It prevents carrying germs; it is soft, gentle, absorbent. Ideal, too, for removing cold cream. And you'll discover many other uses once you have Kleenex in the house. Buy it— now — for 18c at any drug, dry tJ5i goods or department store. Now 50 —Wide World Mrs. John D. Spreckels, HI, is the latest prominent socialite to enter pictures. Her husband, who recently came into an inheritance of more than $20,000,000, is the son of the late John D. Spreckels //It I m Sure He's Nuts // Illustrations and text copr. 1934, Kleenex Co. Continued from paee forty Another Night we were driving . through the late streets in that always recognizable ancient roadster of his, when a motor cop sirened us over to the curb. The officer's face was alight with glee. "I been looking for you for a long time," he told Doug happily. "Remember me arresting you a year ago?" "Vaguely," Doug said. "So what?" The copper was looking in the side pockets for liquor, and presently he pulled out the ticket he had written the year before! "So!" he yelped. "This is the attention you pay to 'em, is it? This is the way you show up to pay your fines, is it?" Doug slowly examined the tab. "Fred H. Schmaltz," he read. "What a handle! Officer Schmaltz, have you ever tried numerology?" It was six o'clock in the morning before I could get him out of the tank. He appeared in the room where the rescue party waited, his face glum. Knowing he had an important test that morning, I told him we soon would have him sprung, He shrugged. "That's all right. I kind of like it here. I'm seeing life. The only thing is," he hesitated, "they won't let me sing in there." Well, most writers have a more or less secret yen to paint, and I know a sculptor who fancies himself as an adagio dancer. But Doug's passion for singing is truly an awful thing. Despite the stoutest opposition he will render — and that's the proper word — musical compositions with no warning. And these, oddly enough, are always the numbers of his extreme youth. Last year, during his engagement as guest star of the Pasadena Community Playhouse many were puzzled why he chose Green Grow the Lilacs as a vehicle. The reason is not far to seek. The play contains the cowboy songs he dotes on. The summer appearances at the Pasadena theatre, where he appears without pay, are out of gratitude for the fact that here he received his dramatic training. Graduating from high school, he chose this famous school of the theatre in place of college and under the tutelage of Gilmore Brown played in everything from Shakespeare to (hooray!) musical comedy. Presently, still in his 'teens, he was appearing in Los Angeles as the son of Sarah Padden in Hell Bent For Heaven, of Bert Lytell in Silence, and of Lionel Barrymore in The Copperhead. He then set the whole town talking with swell performances in Kempy and Desire Under the Elms — and deserted it in favor of New York. Doug's success in New York should be ample refutation for the ancient contention that genius has a difficult time being recognized in America. True enough, there were few boys ever willing to give more to their work than was he. "I was willing to give everything to get ahead," he once admitted to me. "I thought that if I could get to be a leading juvenile on Broadway it would be everything that I wanted from life — that it would be food for me, love and play . . . everything." Making his New York debut in God Loves Us, he started the list of plays which in four years brought him to the enviable position of having playwrights bring their stuff to him for appraisal. His work in Daisies Won't Tell, with Pauline Lord, was of such quality as to win him the role of the boy in Crime. In this piece also appeared Chester Morris, James Rennie, Kay Johnson, Jack La Rue, Kay Francis and Sylvia Sidney — all of whom subsequently have scored in pictures. This play established both Doug and Sylvia, and after Women Go On Forever and The Garden of Eden, Max Marcin and Sam Shipman wrote a show, Kidnaper, expressly for him. Then he capped his ambition by being taken into the Theatre Guild as a featured player. With the Guild, Doug was to have his greatest success. The role which gave him the most satisfaction was in Volpone, when he took over the part introduced by Alfred Lunt and played it for an HOLLYWOOD