Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1927)

Photoplay Magazine — Advertising Section young man who sold it to me had the loveliest eyes." Mrs. Potiphar had been struggling to catch Eve's eye. "Speaking of wives," she said, "I am of the opinion that any husband who tries to prevent his wife from doing anything she has set her mind on doing is an idiot, padlocks or no padlocks. Of course, you have all heard those tales about Joseph and myself. Lies, my dear girls — nothing but lies. I never even looked at the fellow. But there was a big date and fig man from Damascus — " "Sorry, my dear," Eve interrupted, "but, like Scheherazade, you'll have to tell us the rest of that story at another meeting. We can't let our supper get cold." Adam, who was sneaking out the back way, found Eve's maid, Marie, listening at the keyhole. "You are too nice a girl, Marie," he said, putting his arm around her, "to have your morals corrupted by anything those ancient eggs are saying in there. What are you doing in Hell, anyway?" "Alas, monsieur," Marie said, "it is the result of an affair I had with a young American aviator in Paris. We loved each other passionately." "Were you married to him?" "No, monsieur. That seems to be the difficulty." I SEE. Well, whether you are married or not married often does seem to make all the difference between Heaven and Hell. I've found that out myself. Look here — don't say anything to Eve about my having gone out, will you? The next time I see Satan I'll speak to him about your case." He vanished just as Eve threw open the dining room door. "At the next meeting," said the Queen of Sheba, "I would like to tell you about my visit to King Solomon. He certainly did have a good press agent." Higher Hire [ CONTINUED FROM PAGE 65 ] times I succeeded in making him my enemy due to stealing the picture from him. Then I became a leading man and supported the principal female stars. Don't get me wrong, now, as my salary was only five hundred weekly, but I was pretty popular at that. I found out that most of these dazzlers had sprung from whistling stations and were just beginning to find out what a fork was for. A real New Yorker was from the upper strata, as you might say, so it wasn't long before I was one of Hollywood's hims of praise. Then, just when everything was going good, Sally came West. She's my wife, and had stayed behind to shoot the furniture back to the installment gang, but now here she was and none too well pleased to be known as Mrs. Carlos Cabrillo, which is the name the publicity boys handed me. After looking around a while she wasn't at all strong for picture players. "They may know movies," she complains, "but all they do is talk shop and most of them are vain and cheap. A few are regular people, but they only stand out because the background is so shabby. Why can't we live some place where we won't have them running over us in the evenings? I don't want my home looking like a hotel lobby," she says. THAT didn't sound right to me. Here old man Zoop had picked me out of the gutter, so to speak, which is no slam at the shop, as they sent me a complete outfit of what Fashion had decreed. Here I was, a dupe for Zoop, as some sorehead remarked, and drawing attention from other concerns which had offered me more money. Abie heard of it and right away signs me for two years at a thousand per, yet here was the wife trying to tell me that these people were cheap. However, I remembered she was the daughter of a Brooklyn policeman, consequently I couldn't expect her to know much about sacrifices for Art's sake. I had learned considerable about this angle by listening to the title writers and visiting highbrow authors. In fact, I was written up for Fervid Film Features, saying a lot of things I really didn't but would have if I'd thought of them. So I goes to Sally, registering Grief, and tells her that she could pick out a home in Pasadena if she felt like it but that to give my best to my career it would be necessary for me to stick around the bungalow on Fairfax Avenue. I promised to come out and see her when I wasn't too busy. Ill I DROVE the few miles to Pasadena a couple of times of my own accord and once with the publicity director. This lad had the bright idea of playing me up as a family man, so Sally and I posed every which way, and some of the photos were printed in the Sunday papers. This resulted in an increased flock of letters from admirers, all giving me the glad hand, and say, don't let any actor kid you about not reading his mail. They all do, and I was no exception. One day Zoop calls up and says how he has farmed me out to Perspi ration Pictures, which is a good name as they go in for thrillers with plenty of dust and action. " I ain't got it the proper stories for you, Carlos," he says, "so sooner than have you idle I fixed it to loan you to Perspiration. They want it you should play opposite The Polack, which is a swell chance for you. Report on Monday." Well, I showed up all right and got acquainted with my new boss, Isadore Fitzpatrick, who claims he is a Spaniard. "Come on," he says, "and meet The Polack. She asked for you special after seeing your work in 'The Taxi Wrestler,' so swell up like you'd been climbing around in poison ivy," he says. All my career and even before that I'd always wanted to get a slant at The Polack, but now if I never see her again it "will be too soon. She's a pip, sure enough, TiettyjEou* Jetty Lou powder puffs always come up smiling — soft and fluffy day after day. Made of the finest deep pile velour, and sewed with seams that simply cannot rip. True Wool worth economy in the remarkably low price — 10^! Six generous sizes — in White, Pink and Honeydew (In Sanitary Transparent Wrappers) een cents in Canada For sale exclusively at F.W.W00LW0RTH CO 5 & 104 STORES When you write to a.lvortisers please mention PnoTOPT.AY MAGAZINE.