Screenland (Apr–Sept 1923)

96 SCREENLAND The Celluloid Saint (Continued from page 38) TIhE directandforcefulhandling of this original collection of "Alo Studies" reflects the life work of Albert Arthur Allen, one of America's foremost pictorialists. Thirty-two photographic studiesfromlife,clepictmodeIs of the highest type of feminine beauty in typical California settings. Bound in art paper. Frontispiece in color. For the art lover, the connoiseur of art, the art student and the professional artist. Order at once, as the edition is limited. PRICE, #1.00 ALLEN ART STUDIOS 4105 Broadway Oakland, California U. S. A. "WALLY" REID America's Famous Movie Star HIS LIFE STORY By His Mother BERTHA WESTBROOK REID A Gripping Heart Story of Trials and Triumphs Smiles and Tears Illustrated Handsomely Bound in Cloth $1.00 Sorg Pub. Co. 48 Vesey Street New York Telehone Cortlandt 5934 Sorg Publishing Co. "S" ORDER Enclosed Please find One Dollar ($1.00) for copy of Life Story WALLACE REID. Name . Address and he poured out a tale of want second only to my own. He was an artist struggling for recognition. There was to be a great prize offered— ten thousand dollars for a picture. It was in his mind, his theme for it, burning his fingers, but he lacked a model. He begged and implored me for art's sake to pose for him. He promised me one tenth, a thousand dollars. My head reeled; clothes for the coveted part of Fifi; I was made. My heart warmed. The good God had sent him to me. "We rushed to his studio. We began work feverishly. It was a difficult pose. I grew very tired, but I must also keep up my dancing, and so I worked early and late. He had no money, my poor artist, but he always shared with me his bread and cheese, and his cigarettes as well. I needed to be very thin for Fifi, so I did not mind. The time drew near— but you will let me finish, Miss Chrystoff son ? There is not much more." "You seem to have a vivid imagination, but I see no connection with me." "Only wait — the heroine enters late. "The picture was finished at last and sent off to the Metropolitan to be hung. My artist and I said a Mass together at St. James. Our feet scarcely touched the pavement as we walked back down town. At Forty-second Street we stopped to read the theatre boards. "My artist was visibly touched and excited. He grasped my hand. He stared. From an inside picket he drew out a picture. "'There is her name, Glory, flaming in the Paris Revue, there ! Edna Smith ! We were children together,' he said. T love her, Glory, love her— Oh, I must find her!'" "We rushed back to the studio. From the very tip-toe of the old clock he drew out the last dollar. We had meant to have a great feast that night. 'Take this and buy the very most you can, and then do be an angel and cook us a dinner,' he cried to me. So while he went to find her I wheedled and coaxed, and teased until the butcher and the baker had given me fully five dollars' worth for that one last dollar. All the while my heart was doing queer pre monitory thumps, only I took no notice of it. "I flew back and swept the studio. I set the table. I cooked the dinner. And then, leaving some pink rose buds as my gift, I ran away, just as the taxi drove up, and Edna Smith and my artist alighted." She paused. "And the end?" asked Sydna Chrystoffson in a thin, hard voice. "The next morning all the papers were full of the prize painting,— my portrait. The ten thousand dollars was paid, but not one cent of it came to me, for my artist married Edna Smith — and you know the rest— somehow she heard about the part of Fifi— somehow the gowns were bought — and from Fifi she climbed and climbed until today she is Sydna Chrystoff son, the great star." But the star was laughing, hard, dry, mirthless laughter. Glory bowed her head in despair. Was the girl then utterly heartless? Had she failed? "So I owe you a thousand dollars, do I ? Well, suppose I do have another look at this scenario of your friendsshall we call it square ?" "Here's my hand on it," cried Glory joyously. The next day the masterpiece was accepted. For weeks the Gang ate, slept, and were merry off the check therefrom. Three months later, at midnight, the three friends emerged from a preview of the new Lost Art production entitled "The Man Thou Gavest Me," and sauntered into Frank's for coffee and brioche. "I know it's the height of indelicacy to beg you again to tell us how you managed the lady Chrystofferson," said Jimmy. "But this I can say, that some day you will be canonized as the saint of Hollywood for the miracles you performed." "It wasn't by saintliness that she tamed the dragon, I'll bet," cried Enid. "I bet it was by blackmail; nothing else would have availed." "Perhaps it was a little of both," said Glory. H. B. K. WILLIS has rung the bell again! His humorous article God Give Us Men on page 43 is better for the blues than a string of Coue beads.