Evening Star Newspaper, July 5, 1936, Page 68

10 Magazine Section Coming FEATURES MIGNON G. EBERHART “The Mapgic Cup of Jade” A priceless gem, an Em- peror’s cup, a beautiful woman —what a strange recipe for murder! The first installment of a two-part story by an author famous for her exciting murder-mystery tales, Mignon G. Eberhart. JOAN CRAWFORD By Ines Wallace Because she keeps a calendar- diary of the food she serves and never repeats a menu, Joan Crawford’s parties are among the most popular in Hollywood. A food-celebrity feature by Inez Wallace. Don’t miss it! ELIZABETH TROY “Lucky at Cards” Into the hdppy married lives of Sally and Larry Webb came “a fourth for bridge”— a fascinating girl who knew how to play her cards. A story for bridge fiends and for those who are married to them, by well-known Elizabeth Troy. RAYMOND L. DITMARS “Giant Animals” Do prehistoric animal gian.ts._] still roam the world? Yes, says the noted curator, Raymond L. Ditmars, who in this article tells the strange, absorbing stories of present-day mon- sters in a land of average-sized humans and animals. She acted it “‘too realistjcally” and was again idle. She next appeared as a ten-year old girl in “Seed.” Other child roles fol- lowed. Her relations were finally severed with the company. “'I was fired,” she admits with slight disdain. She went to another producer, and was given the role of a thirteen-year- old girl with Richard Barthelmess in ““The Cabin in the Cotton.”” Her repu- tation as a ‘“‘colorless person’” had spread through the film studios. She was considered only for “child roles.” Conscious of ability if given the chance, she decided to return to New York. She then met a man who had touched the fringes of renown as wit, adventurer and playwright — Wilson Mizner. His tongue was sharp as a hornet’s sting — his heart was of gold. Brusque to those he loved, he was urbane to strangers. Fond of Bette, he invited her to dinner. His kindly interest brought Weapons of Peace? present merely preliminary armament for the next war is ruining every Euro- pean country, and will surely check England’s nascent return to pros- perity. The cost of actually waging war is a prospect which appals every Euro- pean statesman. We know now that there is no way of making the van- quished pay the bill. Thus, paradoxi- cally, the ruinously expensive perfec- tion of modern weapons, cancelling each other out when equally possessed by the potential belligerents, is per- haps the greatest actual deterrent to war. The present wild arms race is an expression of reciprocal fear rather than of determination to start a row. Unless some scared fool pulls a gun, probably there will be no war in the near future. Every year without one is a year gained to peace. Paradoxically, also, the more elab- orate the instruments of war, the less murderous they are. When one gentle- man sticks a sword into another, the stickee is very liable to be dead. When he shoots at his enemy with an ex- pensive big gun from twenty miles away, he is very liable to miss. As weapons have improved, the tendency is always to increase the distance at which the enemy may possibly be hit with safety to one’s self. The greater the distance, the greater the inevit- able proportion of misses. In an ancient and medieval hand- to-hand battle, there was no such waste. Every blow told, with a mini- mum of expense except in notched swords and axes. When artillery and muskets came in, a large proportion of projectiles went over the head of the target, despite the fact that the infantryman was drilled to fire only when he could ‘‘see the whites of their eyes.” Throughout the nineteenth century the range was constantly in- creasing — and so was the futile ex- penditure of ammunition. This is not to deny that modern- weapons are terribly destructive, when they get a chance on their target. But the holocausts in front of the machine guns on the Western Front were not so much evidence of the efficacy of that weapon as of the imbecility of generals still thinking in terms of the slow-loading Brown Bess ineffective beyond 150 yards. As soon as, reluctantly, those in authority realized that the human skin is ex- tremely vulnerable to a stream of bullets at 600 a minute, the steel-clad tank appeared and rolled trium- phantly over the machine guns. Demonstrably, weapons have be- come less murderous — in proportion to the numbers engaged — as they have become more scientific. In the oldtime hand-to-hand fight, the casualties were reciprocally very high — until one _ side broke and was massacred as it ran. In the Napoleonic wars, it was reliably computed that it took a man’s THIS WEEK Twice a Waitress Continved from page two the question: How could she change her luck in Hollywood? Beginning life as a medicine faker, he said pompously, ‘‘Nature, with her usual lack of precision, has erred in your case, Bette. Your dark hair fights with blue eyes and a too light com- plexion.” ““What can I do about it?"” ‘““Become a honey-colored blonde, my dear — a honey-colored blonde.”” She followed his suggestion. Directly after, she was seated alone in the studio cafe. George Arliss was surrounded by a group at another table. He asked to be introduced to Bette and insisted that tests be made of her for his next film. The jinx was broken. She was on her way. Overjoyed, she telephoned Mizner. I thank you so much.” He stopped her with, ““Thank the hair-dresser — Now listen, Bette — I’'m in your cor- ner — I'm sending you a book. You must read it.”” It was “Of Human Bondage.” In a daze, she completed reading the magnificent book. The story of Mildred, the waitress, for whom the narrator, a young medi- cal student, had conceived a hopeless passion, haunted her. She went to Mizner. “You love the book, huh — they're to make a film of it — you're Mildred. Learn her accent — get inside her little soul.” More prominent actresses refused the role. It was not romantic, re- quired deep feeling, and had no appeal. Bette thought otherwise, and silently prepared. No flurry in Hollywood fol- lowed her selection. The rest is brilliant film episode. Ignored for the Academy award of 1934 on the original nominations, a write-in vote was forced by cinema critics who admired her sincere por- trayal. Continved from page seven weight in bullets to kill him. In the last war — despite the machine gun and the lavish use of bigger and better artillery — it took a ton of explosive to kill a man. The man of course ‘dug himself in,”” with an activity in exact proportion to the danger. The total casualties were appalling, but the num- ber of combatants was uniquely im- mense. In the next war, for which we are promised such horrors, it is safe to bet that the ratio of effort — and expense — to fatal casualties will be even higher. Apparently it is to be a war of aircraft — and, by all military ex- perience, never yet has an aerial bomb struck with the precision of an artil- lery projectile. In war, defense always fairly promptly matches the attack, and in the next war the aerial attack is going to be kept high. Nevertheless, it will surely be very terrifying tobe a civilian in a city which is being . i 2 s Rty | “‘ALL FINISHED, MADAM. NOW WHICH ARE THE< GU bombed; the worst part will be the panic of your fellow civilians. Curiously, and unreasonably, every improvement in armaments for a thou- sand years has been greeted with a how!l of moral indignation. In the eleventh century, the crossbow was officially ostracized as a foully murder- ous weapon that no Christian battle- axer might use without peril to his soul. When gunpowder appeared, the how! went up again. The Chevalier Bayard, that pattern of medieval chiv- alry, righteously hanged every arque- busier who fell into his hands. Gas — surely the most humane weapon that belligerent mankind has yet invented — today evokes pre- cisely the same moral revolt. Bayonet casualties present almost 100 per cent of deaths. High explosive and bullet casualties are some 40 per cent fatal. Gas casualties are only around 4 per cent fatal. July 5, 1936 She failed by a slight margin, but the coveted honor came a year later for her excellent performance in ‘‘Dan- gerous.” She has no qualms about the past. If it were something she wished to forget it would be impossible. In a | recent film she again played the role ] of a waitress, with Leslie Howard, l and her sincere acting gave a sem- blance of reality to the false situa. . tions in “The Petrified Forest.” Before the award came, Wilson = Mizner, the man whose suggestion had changed the course of her life, had gone to a vaster land than his beloved California. Among the many who remember him with love, none is more sincere than Bette Davis. Not until long afterward did she learn that it had all been arranged, between Mizner and George Arliss. The actor wanted a ‘‘honey-colored . blonde,” opposite him in “‘The Man Who Played God.” Bette’s mother is still with her. She lives *‘in the house next door.” § Scientific war does not seek to kill; it seeks to paralyze resistance on the largest possible scale. The gas-casualty who has to be tended is even more a loss to his own side than the dead man who merely has to be burjed. Thus, not altruistically, but auto- matically, does the scientific elabora- tion of armaments make war less mur- derous. Also, it makes war less and less something we are able to afford. The. Zeitgesst is working for us. The whole business is insane and re- volting, of course. But when enthusi- asts for peace attack scientific arma- ment, they are really shooting at the wrong target and even harming their own cause. It is the institution of war itself that we have to abolish. That will happen when the human soul is freed from its atavisms. Education in realities, instead of in catchwords, is man'’s best chance. Drawing by George H. Mabie EST TOWELS?"”