Modern Screen (Jul-Dec 1945)

the Defense, faded into a dream of "Don Taylor" up in lights on Broadway. Sure, he knew being an actor was a tough life. In his mind he knew that, but in his heart he knew something quite different. The spring of his freshman year, a talent scout came to see him after one of the college shows. "I'll give you a job with our stock company for the summer, Taylor." Here was opportunity. And according to the copybooks, it knocks but once. Obviously the thing to do was grab it before it could get away. But — "I'll have to think it over," Don said. "I'll let you know." He talked to the head of his college dramatic group. "What do you think? It might be a good chance. . . ." The director brooded. "You've got personality, Don, but you don't know from nothing about acting. Yet. I'd wait." So he waited, studied, built himself up in the meantime, tore himself down, waited till he was sure he had his technique at his fingertips. And when the talent scout came around again, he accepted the offer for that summer and every summer after throughout his college career. Sometimes the job was acting, more often it was painting scenery or selling tickets. It certainly wasn't all fun. For one thing, there was the matter of money. The other guys at college all had good jobs in the summer and came back in the fall well loaded with that folding green stuff. Don got his room and board and the sum of five dollars per week. What could you do on five dollars? One thing he could do, and did, was to fall in love. The girl was an actress at the Playhouse, and all one summer they went around holding hands, and looking very moon-eyed, and losing pounds because how can you eat when you're in love? They had long discussions about the future. "What makes you so sure you're going to get somewhere in the theater, Don?" Don looked at her uneasily. It was a good question, but he didn't know the answer. He just had that feeling. "Maybe I won't get anywhere. Maybe I'll starve on a park bench." When he went back to college, they wrote to each other, and for a while she came up week ends. Only— it just didn't work out. One Saturday night after a big game and the dance that followed it, they were sitting with a lot of others in Don's fraternity house, Sigma Nu. They were singing "Fight On, State!" and Don was right in there, his voice louder than anyone's. His girl touched his arm. "Let's go where we can talk, Don." They, went, Don rather reluctantly. He'd been having fun, and he was surprised to find her crying a little. boy loses girl . . . "It's no good," she said quickly, when they were outside in the moonlight. "You've changed, Don. Last summer you seemed grown up and serious about your career and about us. But now you're— you're just Joe College!" He couldn't argue. It was true. He was a chameleon, adapting himself to the atmosphere he was in. They never saw each other after that. 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