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PERFECT PURSE -SIZE PERFUME SPRAY
ROM a wearing day to a wonderful night you go well groomed with a Itonson Perfu-Mi8t — the "saving grace" of your preciousperfumes.Quicklvadds fresh fragrance. $5.00 and up at smart shops. Write for catalog and name of nearest dealer. •
ART METAL WORKS, Inc. Aronaon Sq., Newark, N.J. Canada: Dominion Art Metal Work*, Ltd. Toronto, Ontario
Photoplay Magazine for June, 1931
and telling her not to touch anything in there because "Mr. Barrymore never allowed anybody to touch anything in the library," and I grinned because when I am in the library Dad lets me touch anything, and once I tore a leaf in a book worth ever and ever so much money and Dad just laughed and took the book away from me.
SO that afternoon nurse took 'me to the studio. First, I had my nap and I was so excited I thought I wouldn't sleep, but nurse put me to bed in my crib that stands out in the patio and the next thing I knew the sun dial said it was almost three o'clock.
Sam drove us down the hill from home very carefully because he said my Mother had said I was the most precious thing in the whole Barrymore house. And when we got to the studio, nurse carried me into a big house and there were a lot of people there and a lot of lights and then my Mother said "Darling!" and everybody looked at me and Mother held me close.
And Mother had her hair all loose down her back, like she has at night when she comes in to see that I haven't kicked out from the covers, and she had on a beautiful dress like she wears on Thursday when nurse goes out for the day and Mother takes care of me all herself.
And Mother said:
"I don't have to work any more today, do I, Mr. Henley?"
And Mr. Henley said "No." So Mother gave me back to nurse and we all went to Mother's dressing-room and Mother put her hair up again and rubbed her face hard with towels and then she took me and we went
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nhance your charm!
Get Utia deliehtful book— CHARM by Margery Wilson— today and let it open new doors of joy and opportunity ■JJJ7 for you! "So one is utterly without ehnrm." wvs Miss ■"■W VV.l-.nn — "and no one is .1. charming at he can be.'f From her Motion Picture expenenc* — and from her own experience of life — she tells hi m ply. prartic.illy, delightfully, how anyone, in any walk of life, ran be more altrartive and. especially, mora imainibla to the opposite sex. Here are soma <.f the chapter headings: Charm, Be in* Natural. Pl.v-ir.il Charm. Men and Women. Conversation. Coireapooi Individuality. Poiae, Harmony. (Gel jrour copy today — 12.50 at any bookshop or direct from the publishers. Frederick A. Stokes Company. 443 4lh Ave.. New York.)
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away to another big place where Mother said we would find Dad.
And sure enough Dad was there, only I didn't know him at first because he had a funny red beard that made him look different.
And everybody who saw me when I was where Mother and Mr. Henley were said I looked just like "Miss Costello," and everybody who saw me where Dad was working said I looked just like a Barrymore.
So I don't know.
And then a man with a big camera, I know what a camera is already, came by and asked Dad, "How about a picture?" And Dad swore a little and said to Mother, "Well," and Mother said, "Sure. It's the baby's first visit to the studio."
So Dad and Mother and I went outdoors and had our picture taken.
And just then I thought it would be great fun to see how Dad's beard had grown on his chin so fast, so I reached over and pulled it, hard.
And Dad yelled and the man with the camera yelled, and I held still for just a minute and then 1 yanked.
And the beard came off and there was Dad behind it, rubbing his chin and saying, "the little rascal" but not meaning it — much.
SO Dad said, "I might as well go home with you now. It takes two hours to put the beard back on and it's too late to do that. ''
So we all rode back up the hill where I live, only I couldn't stay awake until we got to the top.
And nurse scolded because I was late for my cod liver oil and orange juice.
So I counted my toes. I still have ten.
Quick, Watson, the magnifying glass! Is ziss our naughty Maurice Chevalier turning the full glare of his Parisian molars in Helen Twelvetrees' direction? Or is it Frank Woody, Helen's new husband? It's Woody, all right, but he had us fooled for a moment. Helen and Frank were married in Reno shortly after her divorce from Clark Twelvetrees— so shortly, in fact, that it wasn't legal, and they had to do it over again. Here's hoping that the Twelvetxees-Woody combination never knows what it is to have a knotty problem