Modern Screen (Dec 1931 - Nov 1932 (assorted issues))

Modern Screen low Society Women and Stage Beauties Banish FAT THE SAFE WAY Once you start to takea half teaspoonful of Kruschen Salts in a glass of hot water every morning before breakfast your fight on fat is WON! Herein are the facts why Kruschen is different from and superior to other reducing treatments: Kruschen is more than just a mere laxative salt— it's an ideal blend of 6 SEPARATE minerals which not only eliminate poisons and waste accumulations but which help every gland, nerve and body organ to function properly — which brings a marvelous degree of robust health, chic slenderness and physical attractiveness. Many women hasten results by going a little lighter on potatoes, pastries and fatty meats. Mrs. Bessie Evans of Jamestown, N.Y. writes: "I lost 1 4 lbs. before starting the second bottle of Kruschen — I am not only delighted with the big loss of fat but I feel so much stronger and healthier. I heartily recommend Kruschen to all overweight women." Start TO-DAY to look and feel years younger. An 85c bottle of Kruschen lasts 4 weeks and is sold by leading druggists thruout the world. KRUSCHEN SALTS "It's the LITTLE DAILY DOSE that does it" DOCTORS WARN 4: , MOTHERS John Gilbert's Bugaboo (Continued from page 71) to avoid cheap powders for their babies! Not all baby powders are equally effective, in combatting Urea Irritation, prickly heat and chafing. Some do more harm than good. Z. B.T. is a mildly medicated compound talc, endorsed by leading physician's, nurses and hospitals everywhere for its soothifig and healing qualities. Reject Substitutes! Use Z. B.T. to keep Baby's skin' clear and healthy. At all drug, department and chain stores, in three sizes— 10c, 25c and 50c. FREE TRIAL CAN! Send 4 cents in stamps to cover postage. Address Z. B. T. Products Co.. Dept. T, Bronx. N. Y. ZDf BABY ♦ D.I. TALCUM fINE FOR BABY'S BODY FINE FOR EVERYBODY! 100 Gilbert's fault that he was born a sensitive child, and lived in an early environment which rooted deeply in him fears of the dark and such things. If you will forgive this poring over the past, there is one more incident which throws light on John. When he came to Hollywood and became an extra, living for months and months on little more than hope, he was continually falling in love. Impetuous and flighty, when he was not in love with one extra girl, he was in love with another. For the biggest crush of all, he saved his meagre earnings and bought a car — one of the old Saxons, so low that part of you dragged on the asphalt as you drove along the street, if you remember — in order to be able to take her home from the studio. The girl is nameless here, but John thought she was the big love of his life. Did the man who was later to be worshipped by a million women sweep the little extra girl off her feet with his wonderful new gasoline chariot? He did not. She turned him down cold. And — she laughed at him ! . . . This is the point to remember, that for years and years, when he was an unknown in Hollywood, John Gilbert was despised and frustrated and kidded and laughed at. SUCCESS came. Everyone knows about that. Almost never was there such a rush of popularity as greeted Gilbert when he started suddenly to climb. The Emperor of Emotions ! What did success do to him ? Around the studio he behaved like a crazy man. He had temperament with a vengeance. He flared into sudden rages. He was hysterical. He raged and shrieked when things went wrong. No one could get along with him, unless he was happy. You remember his fight with Jim Tully, for printing some of these things about him? No one could understand what was wrong with him. They said he was crazy, or faking a temperament. What was wrong with him? Any psychiatrist will recognize the symptoms. Give a beggar a million dollars, and he goes wild. That was it. John Gilbert, scorned by everyone from roommates to extra girls, was overnight a success. The recognition, the justification, were simply too much for him to stand. He had money, he had fame, he had power. The most desired of all women — Greta Garbo — was seen everywhere with him. He was the Emperor of Emotions. People could no longer laugh at him. He could get them fired if they did. Thousands of fans wrote him letters, women begging him to marry them, to write them a letter, even to send him a photo autographed in his name by a secretary. Where he had been the lowest of the low, now he was the highest of the high. Being what he was, John could not take it casually. He swaggered. He swaggered on Hollywood Boulevard, and he swaggered on home. Can you blame him? His popularity doubled again. It was that sxvagger which the public liked. Here was a brave man who took what he wanted, who was devil-may-care with the ladies and with life, who saw what hurdles lay in his path and laughed at them, who above all things was sure of himself ! We all feel admiration for people who are sure of themselves. Older fans will recall that, in the days when Otis Skinner was a matinee idol, the chief reason why audiences adored him was his swagger, so much like Gilbert's. Confidence ! Self-confidence ! John had it, all right. What the public never knew was that this was the first time in his life he had ever had it. It made a new man of him — the man the entire nation admired. WHAT happened then, everyone knows. The talkies came. The mike played tricks with John's voice. He said "I love you," and audiences from Shanghai to Le Havre laughed. If they had been angry, if they had been disgusted, if they had been bored — anything but laughter ! The irony of it ! The pitiableness and sheer tough luck of it ! All his life John had been laughed at. Success brought him freedom from it for the first time. Anything else he could have stood; but laughter knocked all the support out from under him, took everything he had gained, and thrust him right back where he had started. One laugh — and he lost confidence in himself, got his inferiority complex back again, and no longer was able to muster the little swagger, the cocky twinkle in his eye, which captivated his fans. It was this swagger which went out of him. Laughter did it. That he could not bear. Anything but laughter ! John, at the time, was a married man. It is quite possible that, had his wife been the right woman, she could have prevented the crashing destruction of his character which followed. She had only to sympathize with him, and tell him that she believed in him. What did she do, instead? Tough luck was piled on tough luck. Of all the things she might have done, she picked the one thing which made the ruin instantaneously complete. She laughed at him ! That finished Jack. How completely it finished him was determined by his personality. The Emperor of Emotions, they called him, and there was a good deal of truth in the title. John is a shell inside which moil the cross-currents of red-hot streams of the lava of emotion. He is all emotion ; there is little else to him. He has no inheritance of conservatism, no counterbalance of common sense to check him. No amount of experience has been able to teach him caution, or reserve. As a gypsy might say, he is all heart line and no head line. His feelings rule him. When he smashed,