Silver Screen (May-Oct 1938)

SHUNNED AT SCHOOL BECAUSE OF PIMPLES? Take steps to free your blood of skin-defiling poisons Stop being the victim of ugly hickies. Don't be shunned and laughed at. Get right to the root of the trouble. It may be poisons in your blood. Between the ages of 13 and 25, important glands are developing. These gland changes often upset your system. At the same time, waste poisons from the intestinal tract may collect in the blood stream . . . bubble out on your skin in disfiguring pimples. You want to rid your blood of these skinirritating poisons. Thousands have succeeded — just by eating Fleischmann's Yeast, 3 cakes a day. The millions of tiny, living plants in each cake help you keep these poisons out of your blood, give you clearer, smoother skin. Many get splendid results in 30 days or less. Don't waste time and run the risk of permanently damaged skin. Start eating Fleischmann's Yeast today! UlflnTCD For Immediate Consideration . . COLUMBIAN MUSIC PUBLISHERS LTD., ORIGINAL POEMS, SONGS . Send Poems to Dept. 13, Toronto, Can. In spite of all that has been written about bad breath, thousands still lose friends through this unpleasant fault. Yet sour stomach with its resultant bad breath is frequently only the result of constipation. Just as loss of appetite, early weakness, nervousness, mental dullness, can all be caused by it. So keep regular. And if you need to assist Nature, use Dr. Edwards' Olive Tablets. This mild laxative brings relief, yet is always gentle. Extremely important, too, is the mild stimulation it gives the flotv of bile from the liver, without the discomfort of drastic, irritating drugs.That's why millions use Olive Tablets yearly. At your druggists, 15ji, 30^, 60fij The novice sisters got to Hollywood through Fred Waring. He utilized their obvious ability when he made a picture last summer, and kindly let them leave the band to go on as they deserved to go. Of course, Lola has given plenty of advice from her own experiences. She won't give any interviews about the girls, however. She wants them to feel on their own, wants the public to feel that they are. She lives on a convenient ranch and it was to her cottage that Rosemary and Pat and Cora were rushed upon arrival. "Take off your Eastern clothes!" cried Lola, handing Rosemary a pair of green pajamas and Pat some red ones 'You must put on California manners now." The opportunity of living out in the country was too much for Pat; they moved into a California ranch-house near to Lola. There they have a swimming pool and their horses. Lola doesn't care for water or for riding. "But, speaking for Rosemary, too," chimes in Pat, "we're in our element. I contemplate raising live-stock as soon as I can get around to it." But night-clubbing, and all those ultrasophisticated kicks? "That doesn't appeal to us," retorts Rosemary, meaning it. "We've only been in the Trocadero once. What we enjoy here is the fresh air, the trees, the green grass. Country life is elegant!" Wayne Morris is thanking providence that he always could sit a horse better than he could truck on down, anyway. Regarding her intentions towards Wayne, Pat won't say yes or no. "I think marriage can mix with a career," she states. "I'm certainly not going to stay single for seven years." That's the time limit on her movie contract. Rosemary isn't so sure of complicating her current busy schedule. "I don't see how, when a girl is so occupied, marriage can be very successful. You'd have to let others do all the things you'd want to attend to yourself." Rosemary's radio program, requiring rehearsals in her spare time, keeps her dashing. "In New York you're a sissy if you go to bed before twelve. When Lola vowed we'd be going to bed at nine at night we laughed. But we know now. When we get up at six in the morning we're worn out by nine at night." Having always roomed together, Rosemary and Pat continue to do so, even though they're stars and have a guesthouse to boot. "We split when we're studying our scripts. One of us," admits Rosemary, "has to take to the den and shut the door." They act out their scenes for the morrow, deliberately. They have a rule, incidentally, never to borrow without first asking if it'll be all right; this, ho doubt, is a major hint for first-class harmony. The youngest Lanes haven't gone on a shopping splurge. They're saving their money. They already had one fur coat apiece and why get illusions? They did want a big car like Lola's, but bought Fords instead. They wish "the duchess"— Leota, their opera-bound sister— could visit them on their ranch and see the studio as their guest. Martha, the only sister who wasn't consumed with professional ambition, is now with them for a month's stay. Martha is the wife of a professor at the University of Illinois. Astonishingly, Perc Westmore, make-up chieftain at Warners, didn't pluck eyebrows or attempt to change their faces around. The legend about directors yelling at players is a phoney, too, they observe. "And we're so excited whenever we see any of the stars," announces Pat. "Olivia de Havilland was the very first one we saw." Maybe it was coincidence; maybe it was fate pointing out a moral to me. For Olivia shortly after passed the table where the Lanes and I were lunching. She greeted Hollywood's three smarter girls with respect. Who, given the chance, wouldn't? Mother's Day [Continued from page 57] mother even closer together if that's possible. Whenever she is visited on the studio set by "mother," Sonja unashamedly climbs up and sits on Mama Henie's lap and "loves" her no matter who may be around! She may be the world's greatest ice skater to her public, but she's just a precious little girl to "Mama." Mrs. Isabel Eddy, mother of handsome but girl-shy, 37-year-old Nelson, is another of those Hollywood mothers beloved by their offspring. Nelson says he positively couldn't get along without her. "Until I find some one at least half as fine as she is, I shall never marry!" he says, and means it, too. Mrs. Eddy runs his house, protects him from unwelcome feminine visitors, giving Nelson all the comforts of a wiferun establishment. Usually, on Mother's Day, if it is warm, they go to the beach and have a grand time. Mildred and Harold Lloyd give the usual family dinner party in honor of their two mothers, Mrs. Howard Davis and Mrs. Elizabeth Lloyd— and top that off by running a couple of popular films in the family theater room. Warner Baxter never fails to give his annual dinner party for his mother. William Powell, who, by the way, even today still calls his mother "Mummy," usually takes her for a long motoring trip. Last Mother's Day, Shirley Temple surprised her mother by appearing at the side of her bed bright and early, adorned with dust-cap and apron, and exclaiming: "Mumsie, you have to stay in bed all day today!" "Why, what on earth for, darling?" demanded Mrs. Temple. "Because," said Shirley, with the barest trace of a grin on her little face, "it's Mother's Day and I don't want you to do any work— and if you're in bed I'm sure you'll not be able to do any! I'm going to do all the work today and I'm even going to fix my own hair! You just rest like a good little mother!" Of course, Mrs. Temple didn't stay in bed all day long but, nevertheless, her little girl's attitude both pleased and amused her. Nobody, though, loves their mother any more than little Jane Withers does her charming, ncarly-always-smiling mother. Mrs. Withers' every thought concerns Jane and her welfare and that little "monkey" we all love so well on the screen realizes it fully and comes right back with all the devotion in the world for "mother." About a week before each Mother's Day comes, Jane secretly gets out the paste, colored paper, paints and bits of lace and makes the lady-w ho-loves-her-best-of-all one of the most colorful and gorgeous greeting cards you and I could ever hope to find— and is Mrs. Withers thrilled and tickled when she receives it, together with a dozen bear-hugs and some useful gifts she's wanted. Sally Eilers will never forget the first visit of her son, Poochie, aged 3, to a movie set. She was doing a dramatic scene in which she was threatening a matron with a gun during a jail-break. And right in the middle of the shot Poochie screamed: "O be careful of that gun. mummy, or it'll hurt you and then Poochie have no mummy for mummy's day!" That broke up the scene— and Sally nearly died laughing, but she sent the child to his nurse in her dressing room. So you see. don't you, Hollywood thrives on mother-devotion? Adults or little tykes, they all sincerelv and whole-heartedly cherish their mothers. 80 Silver Screen