Screenland (Dec 1927-Apr 1928)

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Contains information-other jewelers dare not tell, such as weights and grades of diamonds'. vSTERLING Sft£3& CCX, JjL 1540 BROADWAY, Dept. 2372, N.Y.JQ, little Pat behind, and pretty slim, blackhaired Margaret Ann. Why they couldn't be separated. They never had. That just couldn't happen. "I'm going out home now to see Margaret Ann. I'll be back in an hour," Moynihan said gruffly. Out Cheyenne Street, he tore, clutching in his pocket the simple telegram from the editor of Screenland. It read: "You have won the Joseph P. Kennedy Contest. Telegraph when you can report and money will be sent for your expenses." John Moynihan and his wife, Margaret Ann, had in the few years of their married life established a nice home. Five comfortable rooms in a beautiful apartment house, with a shiny white tiled bath, where little Pat every night splashed around in his tub with the two china tiny ducks to keep him company. "Ssh," said Margaret Ann, as John rushed in like a fire engine. "Pat's taking his nap." "I've won the contest — the Screenland contest," John bellowed, waving the yellow telegram. "Well, that's not to be wondered at," Margaret Ann replied, her brown eyes shining. "You wrote a wonderful letter. And you have more sense than any man your age in the world." "Ah — quit teasing." "I'm not teasing. It's true. Or. at least, that's what Pat and I think. When do you leave?" Margaret Ann's eyes were wet. "God — I don't know. The contest only promised fare for one. And I can't leave you here alone with Pat. And I can't take you with me. It would take our last dime. I'll just have to turn it down." "You're crazy. Wasn't I as good a trained nurse as there was in the State of Kentucky before I married you? And can't I go back to it now? They need a nurse up at the hospital — I heard only the other day. And I can get a room across the street for Pat and me. I can do night duty and I'll share my room with some nice trust-worthy girl who'll be glad to look after Pat to have her rent free. And once or twice each night I can slip out to see if everything is all right." John Moynihan swallowed hard: "I won't hear of any such arrangement — you working night and day." "But it doesn't matter about me. It's your career. Your very life, maybe — and Pat's too. For your sake, for Pat's sake, you're got to go.'" She was crying now outright. He leaned over and took her in his arms, pressing his head against her shoulder so that she couldn't see how misted his own eyes were. "I'm happy here with you. And I'll stay with you always," he said. And then he kissed her. How long they stayed like that, neither one knew. But after while Margaret Ann raised her head: "The telephone's ringing. I think it's been ringing for some time." John broke away and jerked the receiver off the hook. "Well?" It was the telephone girl from the Tulsa Tribune: "Another telegram for you, Mr. Moynihan." "Read it to me, please." "It's from New York. It says: 'Hope your wife and little Pat will like New York. Am telegraphing an extra hundred dollars for their expenses. Best wishes." It's signed 'Joseph P. Kennedy.' " The heart of the long dead Maureen spoke again through the lips of the kindly Joseph P. Kennedy, when, thinking of his own beloved family, he said to his secretary, "They shan't be separated. Send money enough for the wife and kiddie's fare." A Daughter of the Sawdust Continued from page 29 typewriter keys. I have interviewed her three times. Upon each occasion the interview has ended — in hysterics. If you want to write a story about Rcnee Adoree give up the question and answer interview idea at once. Now let me tell you a secret. Renee Adoree is timid. No. I didn't expect you to believe me. Right, it is a rare quality in the genus actorine. And when she is being interviewed she suddenly becomes afflicted with that feeling you and I used to have when the school teacher said, 'We'll have an examination in the second book of algebra tomorrow.' I shall never forget a day when I watched Ruth Harriet Louise, Metro-GoldwynMayer's woman photographer, take dramatic portraits of Renee. The little actress — and there is no woman in pictures who has a better claim to the title actress — struck expressions worthy of a Duse. The camera opened and shut. The impression was 'in the kodak' and Renee burst into a peal of giggles. 'Isn't it all too silly?" She was so; afraid, you see, that we might take her seriously, that we might think her posing or trying to impress us with her art. The sitting ended — like all of my interviews had done — in hysterics, with Renee doing the most droll French pantomimes and humming little snatches of Parisian songs and imitating pompous actors. Du Maurier said it about Trilby — he might well have said it about Renee Adoree. She is 'bonne comrade et bonne fille.' I have another more recent impression of Renee. After what the society editors call a whirlwind courtship the clerk issued a marriage license to one William Gill and Renee Adoree. Her friends were not surprised— they seldom are at anything that Renee does. Gill is a big Irishman who towers above the petite Renee. Renee introduces him with a shy pride. And when he has left she says, eagerly, 'Do you like him?" When he was out of earshot she began to giggle, "Wait until I tell you what he did the other day," she said. "I was talking over the telephone to some of my French friends. Billy, of course, couldn't understand a word and that bothered him. He left the house and returned in about an hour with an arm load of 'Easy lessons in French," 'How to speak French in fifteen minutes a day' and a dozen or so French grammars. "I didn't say a word but in a minute I heard him mumbling to himself, 'La plume de ma mere,' 'la plume de ma mere' and then he added in his best Irish, 'There I've got that right' and he went on to the next easy lesson. If I ever say anything about my mother's pen he's sure to know what I'm talking about." There is so much tenderness in those great eyes, so much of sweetness and beauty in that piquant face, when I see her on the screen I am simply unable to analyse her. I cannot tell when she gives a good performance or when she gives a bad. Her