Modern Screen (Jan-Jun 1945)

• It's so easy to make your kitchen gay . . . when you brighten the shelves with Royledge. • Just go to any 5-and-10, neighborhood or department store; get 9 whole feet of lively Royledge shelving for only 6(S. Patterns galore for your choice! • Easy to put up. Simply lay it on shelves and fold. Holds without tacks. Always looks beautiful . . . won't curl in steam or heat! • Easy to keep clean. No laundering. Wipe with a damp cloth. • Easy to change, whenever you please. It's fun to choose new colorschemes and transform the kitchen with Royledge. ggjg> ENLARGEMENT Tmr to tret acquainted, "we will beautifully enlarge your favorite snapouo b shot, photo, Kodak picture, print or negative to 5x7 inches, if you enclose this ad with a 3c stamp for return mailing. Please include color of hair and eyes and get our new Bargain Offer giving you your choice of handsome frames with a second enlargement beautifully hand tinted in natural lifelike colors and sent on approval. Your original returned with your enlargement. Send today. DEAN STUDIOS, Dept. 1 162,21 1 W. 7th St.. Pes Moines. Iowa STAMP STAMMER? This new 128-page book, "Stammering, Its Cause and Correction," describes the BoguetTnit Method for scientific correction of stammering and stuttering—successful for 43 years. Benj. N. Bogue, Dept. 2269, Circle Tower, Indianapolis 4. Ind. SONGWRITERS Phonograph Record Manufacturer offers writers rare opportunity to collaborate with National Hit Composers on percentage basis. Submit poems for approval. Recola Records. Hollywood 28. Col. I QUEST All-purpose DEODORANT On sanitary napkins, Quest powder deodorizes completely never were, and I m caking his word for it. Bill hates girls who squeal at bugs and spiders. Girls who won't bowl for fear of breaking a fingernail — that's the type he'd like to hit with a tenpin. Girls who use too much make-up. Look at Ingrid Bergman, the most beautiful girl in the world, and she doesn't use any. He gets an allowance of forty a week, and lets his manager worry over the bills he runs up for books and records. "He picked his own business. Let him get ulcers." Until six months ago, money was good for just one thing — to spend. Now he's got three ambitions to save for. After the war, he wants to fly his own plane. That goes back to childhood. "I'm gonna be a pilot," said Bill. "No," said the folks. "Okay then, I won't have my tonsils out. I'll let 'em rot in my head. I'll go and drop dead if I can't be a flyer." The doctor — a World War I pilot — had to take him up in a plane before he yanked the tonsils. He wants to travel all over the world — to places where nobody's ever been before. He wants to be a director. Needs money to tide him over the switch from acting. Not a lot of money. Just enough for a hovel, food for himself and the animals, and wood for the fire. How to combine the three is a headache for later. Right now he's got another worry. To Mother Katie Eythe, the world's best joke is that her Bill is an actor. In Pittsburgh, he could always tell by her giggle when she was in the house. The more juice he turned on, the harder she giggled. Once, watching him do Antony, she got so hysterical that he skipped two pages of the funeral oration. His screen success hasn't made any difference. I don't have to tell you that "The Oxbow Incident" was no comedy. Yet Katie was ejected from every theater in town. "We'll have to ask you to leave, madam. You're disturbing the audience." Bill's worried about the effect of his new picture. "Wait till Mom gets a load of those tight britches. Boy, will that be a royal scandal!" I SAW IT HAPPEN A little while ago, Dorothy Lamour visited our small city of Haverhill, Mass., for a few hours with the intention of spurring Bond sales. She had a room at the Hotel Whittler and was as closely guarded as a million dollar payroll by the hotel employees. Naturally, being in town for only a few hours, she found it impossible to sign the hundreds of autograph books thrust at her by her admiring fans, so it took a "pint-sized" Western Union boy to manage the impossible. Being quite well known in the hotel, he just walked through the lobby and upstairs, rang Miss Lamour's bell and announced he had a telegram for her. Naturally, Dottie signed the receipt, tore open the telegram and read, "Dear Miss Lamour, I wanted your autograph, but you were always mobbed downstairs and outside. I hope you're not mad." As the boy flew down the hall, he could hear Dottie and her manager laughing uproariously. Mrs. Miles E. Bastow, Jr. Haverhill, Mass.