Screenland (Sept 1922–Feb 1923)

56 HaQy-ooA SCREENLAND Caiifi. In Common It is a curious thought, how different men are in most of their ideas, aspirations and habits, and yet how absolutely alike in others . For example, tomorrow morning, between the hours of 6:45 and 7:30, about fifteen million men will stand before their mirrors in exactly the same postures, go through the same motions and accomplish about the same results, namely: they will cut down that jungle of ugliness which is everlastingly pushing out from a man's hide and overrunning the attractive contours of his face. With this one difference. Something over two million men will enjoy the process. The other thirteen million will think thoughts they dare not express unless they are rough and uncouth, and which I cannot even hint at in this public forum. Now, let's get down to cases and be practical and factful about this inevitable process of shaving. We would all do away with it if women would let us. It takes time, at the best is a nuisance, and at the worst is awful. I don't have to tell you whether or not the soap you are using is up to the job. I do tel! you that in the opinion of every man who uses it, Mennen Shaving Cream comes closer to making shaving pleasant than any other preoaration ever invented. I tell you that Mcnnen's exerts a peculiar influence on a beard which transforms its meanness into something approaching benevolence. I tell you that Mennen's is so nonirritating and so packed with soothing lotions that all you need afterwards is a flick of neutral-toned Mennen Talcum for Men to put you at peace with the world. Our Talcum for Men, by the way, doesn't show the way white powder docs. It is made especially for men — fine for a talcum shower after your bath to protect your skin from irritation — and soothing after a shave. So buy them both — Mennen Shaving Cream and Mennen Talcum for Men— and Solve this shaving question for good. My demonstrator tube costs 10 cents by mail. (Mennen Salesman) Th<« fykrfn<ssrc ^omwjrw 357 Central Ave. Newark N.J. U.S.A. "PUNISH THE VILLAIN" (Continued from page 23.) "I ain't got my nerve up yet," he admitted. "Don't get it up," she pleaded; "just give him some more money and tell him not to let it happen again." "But ain't that encouraging thievery? Didn't he steal one of my ideas?" "Ain't you got plenty left?" she purred. "But he might steal again " "And his wife loves him so much and she's so proud of him, something like I am of you, Abie." "Mamma, if you don't stop crying, you will make me sick." he warned her. "Let him go this time." she pleaded. "You win," he said, and put his arm around her, or, rather, as far around her as it would go. SlTTING in the dark, with their faces close to each other, they were oblivious to the fact that Bill had come to the end of the rushes. The wall at the farther end of the room upon which, but a moment before, had appeared the evidence of Mr. Kendall's guilt, was now a blank. The hum of the projection machine had ceased, and Bill, after a wondering glance through his peep-hole, had slipped out of his booth and gone out upon his own affairs. Chivalrous projectionist that he was. he did not turn on the light The light which fell at last into the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Bloom came from the outer door, which, without warning, was suddenly flung open by a big. broad-shouldered man who wore a white silk shirt open at the neck, moleskin breeches and leather puttees. "Bruce Wappinger, the director," Mr. Bloom whispered to his wife. "Pretend we don't see him." Mr. Wappinger already was pretending that he did not see them, and, making a transition from amazement to absent-mindedness, began to back out of the door. It was Mrs. Bloom who stopped him. "My husband wants to tell you something," she said, and dropping her voice to an undertone, whis pered to Mr. Bloom. "Tell him it's all right about Mr. Kendall." Mr. Bloom, evidently of the opinion that he would be more impressive if he were upon his feet, essayed to rise, but Mrs. Bloom detained him. "What you got to say, you can say where you are," she observed. "All I got to say," began Mr.' Bloom, talking to the director, but looking at the floor; "all I got to say is that we won't use that scene showing the blind man getting his eyesight back and punching the villain." "What !" cried the amazed Wappinger. "Why, that's the punch of the picture." "Punch or no punch, we won't use it," affirmed Mr. Bloom. "We neither of us care for it," remarked Mrs. Bloom. "You see, Mr. Kendall's wife is awful sick — " "You see we won't use the scene," hastily interposed her husband. "There ain't no necessity of going into details. We won't use it. That's the final end of it." "But this is unfair to me," protested Mr. Wappinger warmly; "you don't know how hard I've worked on that scene " "It shouldn't have been in the script anyway," contended Mr. Bloom. "Kendall had no right to put in that scene " "Kendall?" sneered the director. "What's Kendall got to do with it? I put in that scene. Kendall had no more to do with it than you had " "Not so much," declared Mr. Bloom, and would have said more had not his wife placed her hand over his mouth. But there was no hand over Bruce Wappinger's mouth. "Nobody had anything to do with that scene but me," he announced. "I didn't like the scene Kendall gave me ; so I wrote this one in." "You!" cried Mr. Bloom, breaking away from his wife's restraining hand: "you put in all of that about the blind man getting his eyesight back and punching the villain." "Every bit of it," said Mr. Wappinger with pardonable pride. "You should be ashamed to speak those words," said Mr. Bloom sadly. "You should be ashamed to ad ( Continued on Page 57)