Motion Picture Magazine (Aug 1921-Jan 1922)

/FGMOTION PICTURF \j 1)6)1 I MAGAZINE • S -^^-3friiiiiiiiiic3tiiiiitiiiiic3iiiiiiiiiitiC3ttiiiiiiiitic3iiifliiifitiicafTiiiiiiiiiicaiiiiiiiiiiiicaiiifiiiMiiic3iiiiiiiiiiiic3iifiiiiiiiiicaiiiiiiiiiificaiiiit>iiiiiiC2iiiiiiiiiiiir:^s^ I r, I Portraits of Your Favorites WENTY-FOUR LEADING PLAYER 1 What is a home without pictures, especially of those one likes or I | admires? How they brighten up bare walls and lend a touch of human y I sympathy, alike to the homes of the rich and poor! . | | And what could better serve the purpose of decoration for the | | homes of motion picture enthusiasts than portraits of the great film | | stars, who have become world-wide famous? 1 The publishers of the three leading motion picture monthlies, the | | Motion Picture Magazine, Motion Picture Classic and Shad I = owland, have accordingly prepared at great expense, especially for I | their subscribers, an unusually fine set of portraits of twenty-four of = I the leading players. | These portraits are 5^"x8" in size, just right, for framing, printed = | in rich brown tones by rotogravure, a process especially adapted to por | | trait reproductions, and are artistic, accurate and high-grade in every | | way. jj * You will like these portraits, you will enjoy picking out your ^ | favorites. You will delight in framing them to be hung where you | | and your friends can see them often. | | LIST OF SUBJECTS 1 Mary Pickford Theda Bara Clara Kimball Young g 5 Marguerite Clark Francis X. Bushman Alice Joyce = = Douglas Fairbanks Earle Williams Vivian Martin 5 = Charlie Chaplin William Farnum Pauline Frederick = William S. Hart Charles Ray Billie Burke | Wallace Reid Norma """almadge Madge Kennedy = Pearl White Constance Talmadge Elsie Ferguson E Anita Stewart Mary Miles Minter Tom Moore These portraits are not for sale. They can be secured only by sub | I scribing to the Motion Picture Magazine, Motion Picture | I Classic or Shadowland for one year, and then they will be sent free. | I You will want the Magazine, Classic, Shadowland or all | three during the coming year. Subscribe now and get a set of these por | traits. It will cost you less than to buy them by the month at your | g dealer's. Send in your order today anc we will mail the portraits | I at once. I I............,....,,...,,. COUPON --------»------------| = Date g I siTncnjTPTTnM ptjt^ttc BREWSTER PUBLICATIONS, INC. I = SUBSCRIPTION PRICES: ,„. „„.,„,„,, k, „ E E 175 Duffield Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. E = U. S. Can. For. Gentlemen : Kindly enter my subscription to the 3 = Magazine $2.50 $3.00 $3.50 ' E E ri,;.v osn snn s so MOTION PICTURE MAGAZINE ) E 5 Classic J.sv d.uu d.&u MOTION PICTURE CLASSIC > for one year. Also E = Shadowland 3.50 4.00 4.50 SHADOWLAND t 5 3 All Three... 8.00 9.50 11.00 please send me at once a set of the twenty-four players' E = ,»,.'. portraits. Enclosed find $ in payment. E = Payable in s ^ United States Funds ,T = =■ Name = Address ". = <S* ait iJiiiiiiiicaiiiiiiiiiiiicaiiiMittiiticaiiitiiiiiirtcaiiiiiiiiiiiicsiiiiiiiiiiiicaiiitirit iiiiC3iiftiiiif fiicaiiiiiiiifiiicaiiiiiiiiiiticaiiiiiiiiiifficsiiiiiiiiiiiicsiiinittfiiic^s^ 100 GE Under tKe Lasrt (Continued from page 65) and faced him, the page that said "God help me, I love her," torn from Waring' s diary, clutched against her wildly beating heart. Krillet, with a horrible, unnatural calm, deposited a lantern on a barrel next to him, and read the service for the burial of the dead. She was, in truth, already dead to this fanatic. "Oh, grave, where is thy victory? Oh, death, where is thy sting ?" the ominous voice rumbled on. Deborah turned on him savagely. "Murderer !" she hissed thru her clenched teeth. "Fiend ! Hypocrite ! Do your vile work and get it over with, without all this ghastly mockery." Krillet's eyes were glazed. He moved and spoke as tho under a spell. The pale face of the beautiful Shulamite illuminated briefly at eerie intervals by the incessant flashes of lightning, held no more meaning for him than a vision. The whole thing was a frightful dream, from which he would soon awake. Untrue — untrue — the words rang in his ears like the mighty diapason of the storm. Outside, the "Voice of God" hurled its terrible malediction down on the faithless wife. So it seemed to Krillet. But he must do his duty — her throat was so white and beautiful — if she would just close her eyes, or whimper, or be afraid — but he must do his duty — her throat was so white. He raised his rifle to aim. "Deborah, Deborah !" came the voice of Waring cut of the night. Krillet lowered his gun and. stepped outside, thanking his God for delivering both sinners into his hand. Deborah's agonized moment of suspense was broken by two shots, heard clearly above the noise of the storm, and Waring rushed in to her. "Krillet's shot went wild, Deborah; I had to kill him to save you." Deborah, with all her senses keenly alert, realized that Waring would not have a chance with a Boer jury. She conceived a desperate remedy for a desperate situation. They would carry the body of Krillet back to the tree that had so nearly killed Waring. It was grewsome business, but the only way. In the morning, the Kaffir boys would find him and conclude that the fallen tree had killed him. They both shuddered at the ghoulish task, but it was successfully accomplished, and, as no Kaffir will touch a dead body, even to bury it, Waring and Deborah had also to perform these last rites themselves. Deborah duly entered the death in the big Bible, under the "Birth-MarriageDeath" list cf the Krillet family : "June 21, 19 — , Simeon Krillet, fifty-five; killed by the judgment of God." Waring' and Deborah then took up their daily tasks once more, and the farm ran smoothly*— without the aid of the lash. Deborah was hurt and puzzled by Waring's silence. Was she not free now? Did he love her. He was moody and often morose of late. What did that portend ? She pulled the crumpled page of his diary out of the bosom of her dress. She carried it always. Her eyes blurred with sudden tears as she read it, and her hands dropped to her sides with listless grace. "What is the matter, Deborah?" said Waring, who had come up unexpectedly. "Nothing," replied Deborah, with exactly as much conviction as that reply to that question ever has Waring took the paper from her unresisting hands. "Darling," he said, with a full heart, when he saw what it was. "I do love you."