Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1919)

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so Photoplay Magazine guy' on the screen— and off — because I have an enormous amount of faith in the ultimate good sense of the public, especially women. Other merchants haven't found it smart in the long run to cater to the cheap, fleeting, temperamental trade. There are women who naturally patronize the loud house oi phony bargains, but the majority of them go to a sane, conservative, value-received store. There are always sixteen ounces to a pound, and it doesn't take the smartest woman in the world to figure that if there are four ounces of trimmings and package and goltl labels, she's getting short weight somewhere. "A woman may be talked into a bad bargain, but heaven help the cheater when she finds him out, that's all! And nothing gives her so much real satisfaction as a good bargain. Let a woman realize she's got the best or as good on a deal, and she's your friend for life, whether it's real estate or heart interest. "The reason it's always the good girl who marries the roue is because she's an inexperienced buyer. She's deceived by the package. Women, as a rule, though, are better judges of values than men. They want their money's worth. That reminds me of old Sarah Jenkins, whom I knew when I was a boy. They found every dollar she'd ever had h!d in the attic, and every one had a dent in it where she'd bitten it to be sure it was good. "That's why I figure that the man who succeeds in cheating a woman, probably is trading with one who hasn't so much to offer herself. The increasing popularity — and success — of breach of promise suits shows that the dear ladies aren't nearly as tickled over being the chosen prey of some gay deceiver as they once were. "A woman's got an immense amount of sound judgment every place except where men are concerned, and even there it's apt to crop up once in a while. I admit there are women who don't think a man's worth listening to unless he's hard to believe and easy to look at. There were lots of people who fell for the pea under the shell, too. But I think most of 'cm have a real, honest preference for a man who is apt to make 'em happy." That seemed to remind him of his wife, and he went upstairs to get her. Before he went, he turned on his favorite toy, one of those marvelous electrical pianos, and to its dulcet tones I meditated. As soon as I saw Mrs. Ray. I began to understand the perfect taste of the room in which I was sitting, the quiet "human" manners of her actor husband, and the Oriental courtesy of her servants. A young man is a good deal to be judged by his wife. The man who marries a pretty-pretty face, is apt to care more about the binding of a book than about the things he could The reel Charles Ray, you kno^v, never has anything better than a tubercular flivver, a motorcycle with neuritis, or a bicycle that came to California for its health. The real Charles Ray drives a Locomobile! learn from it. The chap who ties up to a girl that wants to wear $10,000 worth of capital on her back that might be drawing seven percent, will buy something the other fellow hasn't got and sell something they haven't got, and then try to make up the difference out of the firm's cash drawer. A poor man who marries a girl who can't cook, ought to starve to death and probably will. Therefore when you see an attractive young man, who, though he doesn't make a specialty of the ladies, might have had his pick of a few. and whose salary might even interest many highly-situated mammas, married to a slim, unassuming young woman, far from pretty, but with the sweetest mouth and the truest eyes and the gentlest voice imaginable, you can pretty near bank he's got sense and will get on in the world. When she further turns out to be a cultured person, who paints charmingly, plays the piano more than well, knows editions, periods, and the price of supplies, embroiders beautiful bedspreads and makes cushions you couldn't buy, you gain for him the respect a woman always has for a man who hasn't been bamboozled by the artifices of her sex. Trailing her graceful, white silk gown, she showed me the dining room, with its satin walls, heavy silver and dark, stately furniture, and then I was permitted a peep at their bedroom. A Chinese bedroom, bright with myriads of fairy lights gleaming through butterflies, brilliant Chinese embroideries blending softly into a perfect color scheme of blue and gray, and adorable twin beds, lacquered in Chinese designs as perfect as enamel and as delicate. (And where the heavy linen sheets were turned back, I saw a dainty, pink silk nightie peeping from one, and a pair of those lovely, monogrammed pongee pajamas on the other.) "It's been a beautiful experience to buy and furnish our own home," said little Mrs. Ray, while her husband showed me designs in water colors for his den. "It's taken us seven months to get just four rooms right but we have enjoyed every minute of it. I'm grateful every day that all this has come to us while we're young and enthusiastic and can enjoy it. So many of the things we'\e bought we've dreamed over before we could afford them." They came out on the terrace to say good night and pointed out the garden that-is-to-be and showed me where Charles has decided all the flower beds are to be laid. As I drove away, I saw them hand in hand in the moonlight like two happy children, swinging their way back toward the glowing, open door. But still, Charlie Ray has one fault. His wife told me so. She says it takes an hour to get him up in the morning.