Motion Picture Magazine (Feb-Jul 1922)

MOTION PICTURfT I MAGAZINE L How I Earn $15to$25 a week, writing show cards at home in my SPARE TIME by W. S. Coulthard I needed money, but I had a lot of time on my hands in the evenings, Saturday afternoons, etc. — for I had no hobby — and besides ray expenses had been mounting fast — so you will see the receptive mood I was in when I saw your little ad. "MAKE MONEY AT HOME." I sent for your free booklet. I read it. Your plan looked good to me — your guarantee so liberal — and on investigation I found you were reliable, so I accepted your offer. If others could make money by your plan. I could. That was less than a year ago. Now I am earning $15.00 to $25.00 a week, each week, writing show cards in my spare time. In addition to this, I still hold my regular job, and my salary has been increased there, too. I believe my spare time work has made me better (satisfied with life, and so I'm doing my regular work better. I have been offered positions writing show cards, but I am not interested, as my present position is perfectly satisfactory, but I certainly am glad I enrolled in your school — my spare time money is exceedingly attractive. BeI sides. I find show card writing an interesting I occupation that fills in those evening hours that 'used to drag so. In fact, it is really a hobby li now with me — and a profitable one, as you can Vwell imagine. Only last week I received a cheek from your school for $70.00 for work done over the last three weeks. Of course, you'd have paid me regularly each week if I'd botherd about it. but I was too busy to tell you the amount of work I'd finished. There are times, however, that I feel show card writing by your simple method is almost too good a thing — that's when. I have so many eiders ahead that I cannot see my way clear to finish them — and have to turn down work. Your system of supplying work to your students has certainly helped me, but sometimes you send too much — I'm only working at it in my spare time, you know. Please note this, and don't try to overload me so much. By the way, I think you'll be interested to know that previous to enrolling in your school I had never tried my hand at any work of this lature. I'm glad to thank you for what you've done <r me — and you can certainly use my name and 11 prospective students, for I feel I'll be doing lyone a real good turn if I can help them get arted in this profitable work. Yours sincerely, WM. S. COULTHARD. NOTE: — The above is the story of Mr. Coulthard. It tells of facts, for Show Card Writing offers a marvellous opportunity to both men and women, either for spare time or full time work. What Mr. Coulthard has done and is doing, you can do. Colbran, Dusenberry, Wendt, Blade, Poulson, Charles, Wright, Babineau and many other men have proven it. .Airs. Litherdale, Mrs. Lush, Mrs. Le Moine and dozens of housewives have added to the family income in this way. Girls like Misses Mat-Donald, Clegg, Bordreau and Hoyle are but a few of those who have bettered their positions in this pleasant way. All these owe their success to the American Show Card School method of training — the old established school which has trained hundreds to make money in snow CARDS. The American Show Card School will gladly send you full particulars if you but send your name and address to them. Use this Coupon. TEAR OFF HERE AND MAIL TODAY American Show Card School, 2110 Eyrie Bldg., Toronto, Ont. Send me your Free Booklet on Show Card Writing, and show me how I can make money at home — without canvassing or soliciting. It is understood that this places me under no obligation of any kind. Name (Print your name plainly) Address ; (In full) W Mate , . . 114 Trie Perfect Scenario (Continued from page 56) could turn the cottage into a tea-house, with the addition of a little real work and a gallon of white paint; but, of course then, this wouldn't be the ideal scenario. Apple is sweeping. The old man comes in and tries to kiss her. Apple shows horror— or as much horror as she can, and keep up the illusion of innocence. With that kiss, Apple gains a knozvlcdge of life. And well she might ! But she breaks away, finally, tho she takes quite a while to do it, at that. She packs her few simple clothes and her other pair of perfectly good French-heel party slippers — she is wearing one pair in the picture — and beats it. She walks to the city. Wearier and wearier she gets. But she continues walking. Occasionally you get a glimpse of a trolley-car and wonder why she doesn't ride ; but, after all, a trolley-car is a trolley-car, five cents is five cents, and a motion picture is a motion picture. She reaches the city. Comes a search, then, for a job. It doesn't occur to her to look up the Travelers' Aid, of course, nor the Y. W. C. A., nor even the Y. M. C. A., for that matter. In and out of shops she goes. Nothing doing. Finally, she falls asleep, exhausted, in a doorway. Two men creep near. They are about to — well, whatever the director thinks best — when a dog leaps up at them. A collie dog. Out of nowhere. They run away. From then on, another element, a trained dog, is added to the picture. Our heroine has a protector. You know how popular dogs are, in pictures, these days. Morning, and the dog on guard. Apple wakes up, much refreshed, apparently, and starts looking for a job again. She finds a stage-door and is about to stagger in and die on the inside, when the old stage doorkeeper, who once played with Booth — good chance here for a few flashes of the old man in his prime — sees her. She appeals to him at once. He sees she is different from other girls. He gets her a job 'in the chorus and takes her to his apartment. Rapid action. Right away, you see Apple, in the chorus and living comfortably with the old man. She cooks breakfast for him. They eat together — Apple in a gingham dress, the dog, with his plate on the table, a canary bird in the window. Have you ever seen anything more touching? Lots of back-stage stuff. And you know how that goes over. Chorus girls in costume— and on the way out of it. Enter the villain. In a silk hat. And other things that sometimes accompany one. A shadozv falls on happiness. Villain tries to get nasty. None of this city stuff for Apple. She resents, right away, the things a flapper would complain if she didn't get. Finally, the villain plans a big party. Apple says she will go. Old stage doorkeeper persuades her not to leave him and the dear old doggie. She refuses. She is on her way out of the theater, when — she is kidnapped. This is going to be managed cleverly, so the censors will actually enjoy it. Now, when, for the first time, you are really starting to worry a bit about Apple, you find In the meantime Dear old Avril hasn't been asleep. No, no! Of course, he hasn't made much of an effort to find Apple ; but, what would you? This is a perfect movie. Now, he feels he really ought to do something, so he comes to the city and starts hunting. How he does hunt ! You'd think Apple had shrunk to the size of a pin by his actions. Nothing escapes him. He gets really into action. But we know where Apple is, and that he cant find her. He gets a job, too, with a brokerage firm ; and, first thing you know, there he is, Broadway clothes and all, and still looking for Apple Blossom. Finally, he goes to the theater. You know the night he goes and the show he chooses. What a coincidence ! He sees Apple on the stage. He asks the old man about her. The old man doesn't understand. His dear little Blossom shall not meet these city fellers. He sends Avril away. Avril hangs around the stage door, with Yarrow, the collie, whom he seems to know quite well. Girls come out. He starts forward, speaks to one. Apple slips by, unnoticed. He looks around — sees a limousine speed away. He and Yarrow to the rescue ! Tho Apple may be just out to get a cup of coffee, our hero suspects the worst, and happens to be right about it. Cut-back to the villain and our little girl. In the car. Lots of swaying stuff. Apple is taken into a great home, about the size of the Pennsylvania Hotel from the outside. Inside, it shrinks to the dimensions of a four-room New York apartment. And there you are — that shows what the movies can do. Apple is put into a room. She cant get out. The villain goes into another room. To show how villainous a villain can be, there is another woman in that house. Who she is, depends on the censor laws of the State. Either way, she'll be chucked out if she doesn't help with the complete capture of Apple. He goes back to Apple. Apple and Slytho, the villain, have a scene, now. Lots of emotion. Real tears from Apple — and it's enough to bring real tears to anyone. In the other room, the wronged woman. She is having emotional spasms, too. What shall she do ? Oh, my ! Oh, my ! Once, she, too, was young and innocent, tho it's hard to believe. Close-up of her face. No — she is not going thru the' motions recommended to build up facial muscles. Bernice, for such happens to be her name, is moving nothing but her face. Yet, she is showing by her face alone that she is losing her mind. Character acting — wonderful stuff. That's what the critics always say when you see the close-up of a face going thru contortions to indicate any character change. Cut-back to Apple and Slytho. Now Apple is on her knees, begging for something. Whatever it is, Slytho isn't giving it to her. He's just pulling her arm back and forth and sneering in her face. Back to Bernice going mad again. She ought to be awfully mad before long. Back, now, to Avril. He has jumped into a taxi. How he knows where he's going is something no one will ever find out, but it's a thought to take home with you. Yarrow, the collie, is with him. Wild cut-backs now, to Apple and Slytho, Bernice, madder than ever, and Avril, letting the taxi meter mount up. This is what folks go to the movies for. Finally, Bernice, knowing that too many feet of film are being used, as it is, and that this cant go on forever, starts something. Nobody was ever madder than Bernice is now, and we dont blame her. She takes a lamp — tho, up till now, the house has seemed to be equipped with electric