Screenland (Nov 1945-Oct 1946)

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Torcin, a child to take ! «tina laxative w such ne dicine SSed P^tl-oiu leave youti] Bx-Lax gives a thorough act^. But Ex-Lax is gett lelXt the same time. •ly and effectively a : t just And Ex-Lax tastes gt ' Americas fine, KS' Native, as good m0st widely use i for chlidren. for grown-ups as A* a precaution use only IF YOU NEED A LAXATIVE WHEN YOU HAVE A COLD — Don't dose yourself with harsh, upsetting purgatives. Take Ex-Lax— the chocolated laxative! It's thoroughly effective, but kind and gentle. THE 'HAPPY MEDIUM" LAXATIVE 10c and 25c at all drug stores The Truth About Myself Continued from page 29 DRESSES CLEANED, PRESSED AND READY TO WEAR Styled Used WearingApparet SENSATIONAL OFFER — 6 gorgeous dresses for only $3.44. Gay, alluring colors, sizes up to 20, six for $3.44, larger sizes four for $3,44, beautiful styles. Save money— be smartly dressed at low cost. Order today with satisfaction assured. Send only $1 deposit, cash, money order or stamps, balance C.O.D. plus postage. Satisfaction guaranteed or money cheerfully refunded. OUR BONUS GIFT TO YOU Introductory Offer for limited time only— an extra dress tree of extra <-ost with pverv o'de> or S3. 44. ACE MAIL ORDER CO. 414 Madison St., Dept. H-2, New York 2, N. Y. though I have never seen my father since his death, an aunt of mine said he did visit her and he told her that a friend of hers who was worrying about her son, reported missing in action, had no need to worry. He was captured, and in a German prison camp. Later on, this woman received an official report to this effect. My aunt's was a strange experience, and I don't see how you can wholly discount an experience like that. So on the set, when the writer and the merchant marine began to discuss psychic experiences, I told them of this one, which my aunt had had. The story of my habitual conversations with an empty chair was the product of someone's imagination. I doubt that the person who first started that story was trying to be funny, but I laughed. However, the story was in bad taste and I want to deny it because it just isn't true. Which brings up another false story about me — that I am constantly having nervous breakdowns. I was once quoted as saying that I have nervous breakdowns as regularly as other people have colds. Actually, I have never had one. According to publicity stories, I enjoy more ill health than the entire population of the United States and all of Europe put together. Every other minute I am supposed to be collapsing with something or other. Actually, I am not a fragile orchid. I am as strong as a steam shovel. But every minor illness of mine is built into a big production. When I had a wisdom tooth pulled, it sounded as if I had lower plate wobble. I know this is partly my fault. If I have a cold I call up my friends and say, "I'm ill, dear," as dramatically as though I were dying. It's also true that I had three accidents within three weeks — I broke my finger, my foot, and cracked my skull. No wonder people thought I was a breakaway character. Such accidents could happen at intervals to anyone, but it was just my luck that all of them had to happen to me within three weeks. I had to do a difficult fall in a picture and cracked my skull. One night getting out of my car, I fell into a hole the gardener had dug, twisted my ankle and cracked my fingers. Monty Wooley called me up and said, "I can't go away on a vacation and live in peace. If I go, I shall worry about you all the time. You're always breaking something." I hope he's wrong, hope I've already had my full quota with that cycle of three. Another tale about myself that I don't fancy is that I "carry all my roles home" with me. According to that story, when I play a madwoman on the screen, I go home and act goony. That is not true. I do not "carry my roles home" with me. I do not "live" them away from the studio. I hope I am an actress, not a self-hypnotized dame. To live your roles off the screen would be a quite unnecessary waste of valuable energy and certainly boring to anyone unfortunate enough to come in contact with you during the time you were on a picture. When I come home from the studio, I forget all about parts and scripts. I study my script on the set when possible— that's how much I hate to rehearse and study and play my roles at home. I should be very much embarrassed if someone visiting me caught me rehearsing my lines. I am not an exhibitionist. When I have a radio script to study, I lock myself in the bathroom to learn my lines, because I would feel a fool if a friend walked into my home and caught me acting all over the place. I do not like to act off the screen. I hate Indications — The Game, as it is called; and if it is played at someone's house when I am a guest, I sneak out. After acting all day at the studio, I will not play The Game. It is tough enough to act in front of the camera; it isn't my idea of recreation. My ideas of recreation have nothing to do with exhibitionism. My favorite sports are fishing and bicycle riding. I hate strenuous sports like a hearty game of tennis. I am as hard as a rock and when people ask me how I keep so thin, I say, "Lack of exercise." And that, I think, is the truth. Girls who dance and swim strenuously, must never stop. For if they do, they accumulate fat. They must forever keep on with their strenuous careers in athletics. Not for me, thank you! As a matter of fact, I like ballroom dancing at my home or at a friend's home, where there is plenty of room. When there are only three or four other couples on a floor, I enjoy dancing. I like the rhumba. I can jitterbug like a fiend. I think it the greatest form of dancing ever invented. But on a crowded dance floor, I think any attempt to dance is ridiculous— I swear it's a form of masochism! I simply can't enjoy having someone accidentally shove my hat off or poke his elbow into my eye. I get miserable. My feet ache. I hate night clubs. After an hour and a half in one of them I have to get out. I can't stand confusion or too much smoke. I get tense. Nervous. I like going to people's houses or having them come to mine, but visiting a night club calls for you to put on an act. It is too exhausting. Another thing I hate is wearing high heels. In fact, I hate wearing shoes. If I must wear them, I like a shoe with a slight heel. When I have shoes on, I am always tempted to slip them under the nearest table. That is, I used to be so tempted. Until I had a very embarrassing experience. I went to a dinner party at a night club. As soon as I was settled, off came my shoes. I put them neatly beside my chair, under the table. Then I was asked to dance. I began frantically feeling around for my shoes, but couldn't find one of them, so I said I wasn't feeling well and had a terrible headache. Then I quietly asked the waiter if he found my shoe to give me the high sign or shove it under the table. SCEEENLAND