Modern Screen (Dec 1948 - Oct 1949)

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Send today for your 20 get-acquainted Enlargement Coupons to hand out FREE and also get our EXTRA GIFT offer of a beautiful simulated Birthstone Rinq correct for your month of birth, also qiven when half of the coupons are used. Be first to wear such a beautiful Wrist Watch and Birthstone Ring. DEAN STUDIOS. Dept. X-124, 211 W. 7th Street. Pes Moines (2), Iowa. etta repeated it. Gregg thought a moment — and then said that while the proper stand-in was important, maybe it wasn't that important, and — well, maybe the girl would be acceptable to him after all. "Despite Newton?" asked Loretta. "And that albig stuff and everything?" Gregg nodded. "I think there's something in Einstein's work which will handle everything," he said. "I'll — I'll look it up right away." Loretta thinks she got into the habit of letting her conscience get the upper hand when she first started work in the studios. At 15 she was already a star and greatly in demand. One of the things that used to irritate a certain producer was the fact that Loretta, since she was under age, was under the constant supervision of a state teacher and permitted to work only a limited number of hours a day. He made a suggestion to her one day and Loretta, in love with the romance of her work, agreed. At five -thirty every afternoon she would leave the set in the company of her teacher and go home. At her front door they would exchange farewells. "Good afternoon, Loretta," the teacher would say. "Study your homework, get a good night's sleep, and I'll pick you up first thing in the morning." "Yes, ma'am," Loretta would reply politely. Whereupon the teacher would go on and Loretta would enter her house — to emerge from the back door, get into a waiting studio car and go back to work in front of the cameras until three in the morning! A tiny little voice used to pipe up inside of her someplace those days — the as-yetundeveloped wiggler — but she would beat it down firmly. And then one day the three a.m. routine caught up with her and Loretta found herself lying in a hospital exhausted from overwork. She was weeks recovering and her only comfort was that, at least, she had helped this producer and he would be appreciative of her herculean efforts. But when she returned to him she discovered that she had been off salary every day she was in the hospital! All the time she'd thought she'd been fooling her teacher, she'd actually been fooling herself! And the only voice which had warned her had been the little one from within. From that day on it has been the voice she's listened to, not only in connection with her career but as a guide to her everyday actions. It has been a good mentor. It has directed a lot of splendid decisions for her. Wiggling and loud though it is, her attention to it has not become a burden — her sense of humor and clear sense of values keep it in its constructive place in her life. A life of work and home and family which makes her a fulfilled woman — a constantly finer actress — and, for all of these things, a grateful human being. The End ARTANIS KNARF (Continued from page 47) said his hair was turning white. He said for us to get on a train before he collapsed. "Before you collapse!" I said indignantly. "You're safe in New York, you're not flying around the country with these maniacs. I'm supposed to be navigator, but this map they've dreamed up looks silly to me. Just a lot of crooked lines." "Oh, Lord!" George said in anguished tones. "Put Bob Lee on the phone." Bob reassured him, and we got started again eventually. When we reached Columbus we called George again. "Take it easy," Frank told him. "We'll be in before you know it. Keep in touch with the control tower at LaGuardia. Here's our plane number." Actually it wasn't too long afterward that George, pacing the soles off his shoes at LaGuardia, heard our number announced. Then he really started getting panicky, because about ten planes were over the field, waiting to land. The control tower gave us our landing number. The plane ahead of us was a DC-3 and the one behind us was a Constellation. "You have 25 seconds to land," the tower informed our plane and George gave a moan of anguish. As we came down toward the field it felt like a power dive. I covered my eyes — and darned if we didn't make a fine landing. Frank was very pleased. "Only way to travel," he declared largely. That's Frank. If I'm an old man before my time, blame it on Sinatra. Let's go back a few years to the time he first came into my life. In 1939 I was Tommy Dorsey's manager. I'd been with him for three years. One day in Chicago he came around to me and said, "Bobby, I'm thinking about taking on a new singer. A guy by the name of Sinatra." I'd heard Frank in person and on records and I thought he was just what we needed. "He's with James at the Palmer House," Tommy said. "Give him a ring and see if he can duck over here tonight between shows. Just for a little talk." You know what happened. Harry James gave him a release, and Frank joined our band the next week in Milwaukee. When he first got there, Tommy took me aside. "Say, Bobby, kinda look out for the kid, will you? He doesn't know anybody in the band and it might be a little tough for him at first." That's how it happened that Frank and I roomed together for the next three years whenever we were on the road. But Tommy needn't have worried about Frank. Frank makes friends faster than a dog gets fleas. What really gave me a boot was how hard the kid worked. He knew he could do a good job for us, but he knew he couldn't do it just by sitting around. Right then was when he started to wear me out and he's been doing it ever since. Look at the schedule we had on the road. Play till two in the morning, grab a quick meal, get on the bus and ride till noon next day. Get a few hours' sleep, then some food and play all evening. But was that enough for Frank? Never! He spent half his sleeping time learning new arrangements. He made appearances with Tommy and the Pied Pipers in record stores. Whatever anybody asked him to do, he said yes. That's a habit I've been trying to break him of for darned near nine years now. I guess I'll never succeed. If I did, he wouldn't be Frank. In a year or so, we got a chance to go to Hollywood and make a picture. We were all pretty pleased with the idea. We had visions of lying in that warm sun, eating avocados, and walking with beautiful starlets in the moonlight. Visions is just what they were, too, except for the avocados. Because we were booked to play at the Palladium at the