Screen Mirror (Jun 1930 - Mar 1931)

26 Screen Mirror • For March Cumnock l&cijool Of expression TIT Miss Helen Hardison and Miss Robert Ethel Phillips, co-directors. DRAMATIC COURSE for PROFESSIONAL CAREER Private coaching in voice and diction, stage deportment, dramatic interpretation of literature for those actively engaged in the profession. If desired, private instruction may be had at student’s home. Kindergarten Through Junior College HIGH SCHOOL Accredited to University of California and Eastern Colleges Residence for Cirls and Young Women Automobile Service for Younger Children SECRETARIAL SCHOOL COACHING CLASSES PRIVATE TUTORINC Preparation for Annapolis, West Point and Air Service PIANO, VOICE, VIOLIN, ART, DANCING, HOME ECONOMICS Catalog of Cumnock College or General Catalog on Request. Cumnock iscfjoote CO-EDUCATIONAL DIRECTORS: A. A. MACURDA and M. C. DRISKO Formerly Faculty Members, University of California at Los Angeles. A 5353 West Third Street ORegon 1138 the big beast’s eyes began to shift; his snarls died down and down; and then quietly and shamefully turning sidewise, he trotted off — mad clean through, but beaten! When, with a last defiant growl he entered the protecting jungle, Tessie completed the action by nonchalantly resuming her walk. Her thinking of this important business was perhaps the best and bravest thing of all she did. “O, never again,” exclaimed the real heroine of the story as she sank into a chair, pale as a sheet of paper. “It wasn’t so bad at the time, but I’m all in now.” It is doubtful if she even heard the cheers of the crowd or the words of praise heaped on her. “Brave? Don’t tell me I’m brave. I’m sick. Where’s Mr. Mac?” When at last the publicity man came to her she threw herself into his arms, crying, “Mr. Mac, I’m ashamed o’ bein' such a coward — but I’m jest bushed.” “All you want’s a stick of gum,” consoled McGowan, with his fatherly arms tight about her shoulder. “Here, take this and forget it. Otto was more scared than you were. He says you’ve got the best nerve in the world.” VIII • SAY, dearie, kin you swim?” “Sure — why?” “Well, we’re goin’ to do some water stuff and Cutie won’t stand for it. So if you c’n swim, I’ll double you in the scene. Besides, it’s an easy way a-pickin’ up another ten spot.” And Driver walked over to the dressing room with his arm about Tessie’s waist in what he considered a kindly, big-brotherly attitude. At the door he gave her a little quick hug saying, "you’re all right, Tessie. I’ll make an actress of you yet. You jest stick close to your Uncle Jim an’ I’ll land you among the stars.” Tessie smiled her appreciation of the opportunity but ventured no comment. The girls had now been at the Climax Studio for six weeks with practically continuous work. In fact, after the third week, they had been put in stock, Kitty, drawing twenty-five dollars a week as a regular, and Tessie fifteen, as a utility actress and stunt girl. This latter pay was fortified, however, by the hundred dollars Mr. Emil Glatz had given Tessie for the lion picture. With their munificent salaries, the girls had given up their New York room and taken a small apartment near the studio, which they had arranged in a manner becoming to their new station in life. The “piece de resistance” of their cultural surroundings was a magnificent piano upon which they were paying three dollars a week, with two years in which to complete the payments. Not that either of the girls could play beyond a few doubtful chords and several original variations of “chopsticks,” but some of their friends at the studio were perfect “bearcats” when it came to “frisking the ivories,” and the piano therefore came in strong on occasions of social entertainment. The pictorial decorations of the flat were dedicated largely to the photographic revelation of Montaigne Belmont’s charms. The beautiful facade of the Climax star was represented in this unique gallery in every pose peculiar to his profession. In one huge “ten-bytwelve” the great film favorite sat astride a chair leaning casually over the back and looking at the world beneath the brim of his straw hat. Several other poses showed him in a more thoughtful mood with his hand to his chin looking almost Napoleonic in his worldly detachment. There were several pictures in the new soft focus process, so popular with the camera Rembrandts of that time, which gave Montie a mystical aura of romance. But the picture that Kitty liked best of all, and the one that held the place of honor on her new quarter-sawed oak dresser, showed the classic head of her hero rising plastically out of a free and open sport shirt with all the distinguished grandeur of Lord Byron at his best. With a dash to the wavy hair and a faraway look in his beautiful cow-eyes, Montie’s counterfeit, looking boldly out across Kitty’s talcum powder and hairpins, held that susceptible young lady spellbound by the hour, while she dreamed of some day fading out with him in the “final clinch.” Yes, it was signed — largely and diagonally across the nether right hand corner. It said: “To my little friend, Kitty Pilky, avec les obligations distingues, Montaigne Belmont.” This was followed by a magnificent flourish beneath which was carelessly dashed off the date of the royal presentation. As for Tessie’s contribution to the art of their apartment, the only picture decorating her dresser was a small “cabinet” photograph showing a young fighter in an attitude of fistic defense, but, alas, the signature on the cardboard would not have been legal in a court of law. “Say, Tess, Jim tells me you’re goin’ along on that yachtin’ story to-morra,’’ announced Kitty as she practiced on the new hair dressing the wardrobe woman had been teaching her that day. “Yes, but it’s jest a doublin’ stunt. Looks as though I’d never do enthin’ on my own account. I wonder why Driver don’t ever give me a part? All I do is stall around in the back with jest now ’n’ then a ‘bit’.” “It’s yer own fault, Tess, you’re too tight acrost the chest. Why don’t you loosen up a bit? It ain’t goin’ to hurt you to be a little more friendly. Jim likes you a lot, but he says you’re too ingrowin’.” “Well, I simply don’t like it, Kit,” was the girl’s reply. “I jest can’t bear to have that bunch pawin’ me all over every time I go by one of ’em. Of course, I suppose I got to let Driver paw me some, b’cause he’s the boss; but how can you let all them bum actors put their arms around you is beyond me. I don’t mind ’em all ‘dearin’ ’ me, but I want ’em to keep their hands off.”