Screenland (Oct 1923-Mar 1924)

CLASSIC Darkest Hour By LOTTA LYONS YOU ask me to tell you my life's darkest moment. I have given thought to this thing, and have finally decided to disclose all. I have kept my secret clutched close to my heart, but after all we owe something to our Public which has gone and done so much for us;. and now they shall hear all. Often I receive fan letters telling me how' happy I should be to hold the love and admiration of so many people. And I am; I am. I have tried to keep faith but it has been awfully, awfully hard sometimes. Dear fans, and especially dear girl fans, may you never, never have to face what I have had to. Here I was, happy in my little Hollywood bungalow home with my mother and my grandmother and occasionally my father. I was but a bathing girl — beauty, they call them; but I worked and worked hard ; and everyone in the studio was as nice as could be to me. But one day I decided that I had a future outside of the comedies. Slapstick is the very best training for dramatic work, you know; but I was tired of being just beautiful; I longed to act. I wearied of people passing me by unrecognized on the street. My face was practically unknown to them. So I was perfectly delighted when Mr. de Pille sent for me. He wanted to give me my great chance that I had waited for for so long. He made tests of me and I am happy to say I passed them all. Came my first picture. How I worked; how I dreamed and hoped that I would knock them cuckoo. I did some fine work; some very good work. I registered all the emotions; my close-ups were, if I do say it myself, full of beauty and soul. And then — I can hardly bear to tell you even now — and then de Pille decided to have a bathroom set. Need I tell you how I felt. His orders were for me to don negli(Continued on page 98) By KITTY KURVES FAR be it from me to complain. But after allyou asked me to tell you, so here it is. I've been working in the Brisque comedies for a long time now and at first I used to be the head girl. I was always the first one to dance into the set and sit on the comedian's lap. And if I do say it myself, it was my le — er, limbs that put me across. I was supposed to have the shapeliest le — er, limbs on the screen. And then something or other — perhaps the California climate and the easy routine of the studio — happened to make me put on a little flesh — • I mean weight. And I gradually dropped behind; I became the second girl, and then the third, until finally I was at the end of the line. It hurt. Here I had given up everything for my work, and I was being used as background, me and the Pacific. Well, the director got worse and worse; and one day when we were out on the beach he led me right up to the water and pushed me in. My nice satin bathing suitgot all wet. I found myself drifting further out. He stocd on the beach and shouted after me, "Now swim." To my horror I discovered that I could. I swam back, but I couldn't face them all. Think of me — a bathing girl — having to swim. It was too much. That is why I have hidden myself away in the foothills and am trying to forget. Perhaps I might have succeeded, if the reporters had not take up my trail. There was a dearth of motion picture scandal at the time; otherwise they would never have bothered about poor little me. One persistent one wanted me to write my life story; but I refused to cheapen myself to that extent. I determined to be different, anyway. All I asked was to be let alone. But it was not to be. I was determined to have the white-hot spotlight of publicity turned upon me. I had no sooner shaken off the reporters than I was pursued once more. A man sought me out and (Confined on page 98) Thirty-light