Screenland (May-Oct 1938)

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City WAKE UP YOUR LIVER BILE... Without Calomel-And You'll Jump Out of Bed in the Morning Rarin to bo The liver should pour out two pounds of liquid bile into your bowels daily. If this bile is not flowing freely?your food doesn't digest. It just decays in the bowels. Gas bloats up your stomach. You Set constipated. Your whole system is poisoned Ind you feel sour, sunk and the world looks punk. A mere bowel movement doesn't get at the cause It takes those good, old Carter's Little Liver Pills to get these two pounds of bile flowing f reely and make you feel "up and up," Harmless, gentle, yet amazing in making bile flow f reely. Ask for Carter's Little Liver Pills by name. 25c at all drug stores. Stubbornly refuse anything else. 80 thrill seeing you, Mr. Gable" and We like your pictures, Clark Gable" and boys yelled: "Hiya Clark!" to which Clark kept right on grinning. As for me, several women reached to squeeze my hand and said: "You lucky girl," while one pretty young thing, with her heart in her eyes, and her eyes for Gable, came right out and said: "I wish I were you!" Others openly commented on "who's the girl with Gable—" and "Wait until Lombard hears about this"— and "Oh, he takes out lots of o-irls" and "That Lombard romance is just publicity" and even from the outer edges of the crowd: "What's the girl like with Gable— what's she wearing?" Clark took my arm and guided me through the crowd into the little restaurant we had selected, because it was close and we believed would be quiet, and we had heard the food was excellent. As we opened the door, Clark gave my hand a little reassuring squeeze. He seemed to sense the feelings of a girl who had been an exhibition before a public mob, for the first time. Now a girl having lunch with Clark would picture a small table in a remote corner replete with white linen and gleaming crystal and silver, with perhaps soft music, and Clark sitting there talking to her But do the girls who have luncheon with Clark enjoy such intimacy, such privacy, such a romantic picture? Decidedly not ! With his entrance, came business with a rush The place was crowded with patrons old and new. The proprietor stood at the door warning his new customers that Mr. Gable was not to be disturbed at his table. Small children came in on the pretext ot buying ice cream cones, and stood looking so wistfully down at Clark's table with their pieces of paper and pencils in hand, that Clark melted and beckoned them to come down and he would sign an autograph Others soon took advantage— and another autographing spree was on iwo cooks from the kitchen joined the fracas, and waitresses hurriedly gathered up menu cards to be autographed, and which are now displayed with the day's menu so guests will know Gable ate there, if only once I sat there pondering if this could ast foreVer— the autographing, I mean, when Clark suddenly said, "Now, no more After all I have a guest, and we would like lunch." And so we were permitted to order. By this time the afternoon was well advanced, and we discussed the fact that we were actually very hungry. Clark ordered a chicken sandwich and a glass of buttermilk and no desert. He remarked that he had taken off twenty-five pounds last tall, and was being careful not to replace them He looked over at me and asked me what 1 thought of having a date with him, and 1 managed to murmur: "It was very nice but would be lots better if people would leave us alone for a bit." Clark reached across the table and patted my hand and said that it was always this way and that he really appreciated his fans but sometimes the people who were with him didn t —especially, and he referred to a girl whom he'd taken to the Troc one night who wore a shimmering white gown with a long tram, and they had been surrounded by fans, who in their eagerness for autographs had stood on the lady's train ripping it from her gown, and they'd had to go home, and Clark chuckled in remembrance. Then as the food was placed before us, and I decided that it was very thrilling to be able to sit there and become acquainted with the screen's most popular star, a deluge of newspaper men poured down on us Three of them, without being invited sat right down at our table and started asking questions all at once. They asked Mr. Gable if it were true that he was going to be divorced this year from his wife, and it he planned on marrying Carole Lombard and was he going to play Rhett Butler in Gone With The Wind." Clark from past experience handled these questions cleverly, and the reporters weren't sure whether they were being answered or turned down. I or any girl who might have been his luncheon companion couldn't help but feel very tlnrdpersonish. The newspapermen stayed on and on— and so we started to eat— and thought they would leave, which they didn t. Just when I had a nice juicy fork full of tomato up to my mouth, a flashlight bulb flashed, and then another and another one, and I could appreciate how and why stars dislike candid cameras clicking with their meals. When we decided to leave and arose from the table, Gable was once more handshaked all around by the management, and the waitresses. The cashier didn't want to take his money, said it was on the house, but Clark paid the check nevertheless. Soon we were out on the sidewalk once more, where we found that the crowd had doubled in size, and traffic was almost at a standstill. Everyone who owned a camera had fished one out, or sent home for one, and invited all of their family and relatives to rush down too, to glimpse Gable. We wound our way through the crowd up to Clark's car, and kodaks were clicking from every angle. Clark had to ask the people to make way ao-ain to get me into the car, and finally cfimbed in himself. By this time the sun was low in the west, and with excuses that he had to hurry to keep a dinner engagement, (and we'd just finished lunch such as it was), he was able to avoid further autographs without offending the crowd. I suggested that we return to my home, where perhaps we could find a moment to visit. And there was where I was due for the surprise of my life. The word had somehow spread ahead of us, and when we turned the corner into my street, there were cars by the dozens lined up for a block Evidently the word had spread somewhere of my identity, and people had just put two and two together, and came right down, figuring that Clark would bring me home sooner or later. Clark stopped his car and looked backas though searching for an escape and looked back to see a steady stream of cars had been following us. And so there we were! There was space left by the front o-ate and we drove up and went right into the house, where I found the telephone was ringing continually. By this time, my sense of humor had revived a bit and I turned to Clark helplessly and said: "So this is how it is to have a date with Mr. Gable ! And we both laughed. With constant interruptions he stayed for a few moments, until people, becoming bolder, came right up to the door and started knocking, asking to see Gable. And friends who hadn t called for years came calling. So Clark finally had to leave, and again he was met by a couple of dozen camera fans who snapped his picture at my front ^There's an aftermath after you've had a date with Gable. Your friends set you apart and you are given a certain distinction. You are forever asked how romantic and excitino the date was. You see the candid pictures of it popping out from amateur candid photo magazines, and people pass your house, and remark that Gable was once there As for yourself you know what it is like to have had a date with the most famous actor on the screen. And with all of the mobbing, crowding, pushing and constant interruptions at the hands of the great American movie public, if your phone should ring a second time for a Gable date you'd say breathlessly: "Yes, of course! SCREENLAND