The New Movie Magazine (Dec 1929-May 1930)

Written in the Stars (Continued from page 57) John McCormack, the tenor, visits Janet Gaynor at the Fox Studios. Janet always has been the singer's favorite movie star. doubt now whether she would ever be able to wear one because of that early fear-complex. The fur belonged to sister Hilary, then fourteen, who was beginning to put on ladylike airs in her manner of dress. She had scrimped and saved by passing up numerous ice-cream cones to be able to purchase this longed-for bit of finery, which was only to be worn on very great occasions. One day when Janet was in a gay mood she looked yearningly at the fur neckpiece and finally prevailed upon her mother to let her wear it. Hilary need never know, for she would have it nicely tucked away in the drawer before she arrived home. She raced merrily out to meet Sue Carol, for they were chums. (How little she guessed they would both shine so resplendently in the cinema heavens of today!) Sue was the proverbial rich little girl who lived in a great big house. She used to call for Janet in a luxurious car with a chauffeur, who had strict instructions from Sue's mother to take them for a drive and not let them out of the car. Then these queens in embryo would order him to drive down Sheridan Road and let them out at the beach. The chauffeur would argue in vain; they were deaf to everything but the shouts from Hogan's Alley, the name for a favored strip of the beach on Lake Michigan where a nondescript group of youngsters collected. There was nothing for the chauffeur to do but to hang around patiently until their romp was over. After hours of waiting, two tired, playspent little girls would sink back in the cushioned car with, "Home, James!" and a roguish look from Sue would say: "No tellin's!" However, on this 'particular day with 112 the bit of mink fur thrown royally across her shoulders she went out to greet Sue with shining eyes. Hand in hand they walked toward a thrilling goal. Soon they were dancing, chatting, laughing, and the precious neckpiece was forgotten. Too late they discovered that it had been lost. It had slipped from Janet's shoulders as she leaped along. They retraced tbeir steps again and again until Janet was in a perfect panic. It was Hilary's dearest possession. There was nothing that could be substituted for it. Hilary's mink fur! Lost! Gone! Why, this was the crack of doom ! — there wasn't anything in the world as terrible as this! She couldn't ever go home again — she'd telephone; it was easier to telephone the dreadful news — she couldn't speak it out face to face even to her mother. Excited and weeping and with a great deal of urging from her little friend Sue, she finally whispered the awful news over the telephone. She was prevailed upon to return home. They would advertise, the fur would be found, and Hilary need never know it had been lost. Then came anxious days of watching the papers and looking for the answers that never came. Fortunately, there was fine weather. Each morning her first thought on arising was to find out about that, and then a reassuring look would pass between her mother and herself. But there came a day! — a stiff wind and winter chill in the air and the brooding feeling of disaster. Hilary went from room to room, turning everything upside down in a determined search for something. The suspense was almost unbearable. Finally she appeared in the doorway as irrevocable as Fate and asked of Janet, •'Where is my fur? Where has it gone?" Janet reeled towards her and would have fallen at her feet had not her mother caught her in her arms. "Kill me!" Janet cried. "Kill me if you villi I lost your beautiful fur and have been too cowardly to tell you!" The tension was strained to the breaking point, Janet and her mother clinging to each other for support; then Hilary broke into a laugh and said: "Who do you think I am? A terrible Turk? Marshall Field will have a sale some day and I'll get another one. That one was too small. I want something that will show up more; so you two dry your eyes and forget it." TRAGEDIES of youth— but nevertheless very great tragedies at the time. Another episode that furnished a few intimate onlookers some hearty amusement was when Janet came to New York and, in the preparation for a picture that she contemplated making at that time, went to work for one day in Gimbels' store. The manager was the only one in the store that was in on it. Had the secret got out Janet would have packed the place with curiosity seekers and stopped business. Therefore, every precaution was taken that no one should know. She wanted the experience of coming in contact with life in one of the busiest stores of the city. She is wise beyond her years — a pocket Venus with the brain of Minerva. When the store opened she was waiting, dressed in a cheap blue dress she had purchased the day before in the juvenile department. To the regular girls she was just one of the extras taken on in a rush. But to the observing eye she stood out like a rare Sevres vase stands aloof from a lot of crockery. She looked tinier than ever in the flatheeled shoes and the dress that would have fitted a twelve-year-old. Even in this inconspicuous garb there was a rare sweetness about her. One customer looked her over with surprise and asked: "My word! What is a girl like you doing in a place like this?" When Janet answered that she had to earn her living, the woman smiled a knowing smile and said, "Take it from me, girlie, you're in the wrong berth. With your looks there isn't anything you couldn't have on Broadway." At that time Janet's name was written in big electriclights on the gayest and most brilliant street in the world. After she had been working for hours one of the salesgirls sidled over to her, looked her up and down appraisingly, and said, "Say, dearie, you've got some drag here, all right, all right. I can't figger it out, but you've got some draw, dearie, and you can't fool me!" One straight and honest look from the depths of Janet's brown eyes and the girl walked away shamefacedly. TOURING the late afternoon when -L/ she was beginning to think the day a perfect success she almost lost her composure when a customer turned to her in surprise and exclaimed: "Do you know, you're the dead image of