The Washington times., 1931-01-31
How the Stage-Struck Girl
Got Her First Big Chance

my arms as props, the suns
fierce ray beat squarely upon
my up-tilted face, each of my
legs sprawling out stilt-wise, to
brace me in position and other
contortions, too numerous to
mention, I must have proved
a sensation to the spectators.
AS the thick, greasy smears
on my face began to melt and
form tiny rivulets streaming
from fore head to chin, paSser-
by paused looked, listened, then
burst into uproarious laughter.
BY this time the mixture had
begun to trickle into my eyes
and mouth, down my neck, back
and front, making me decidedly
uncomfortable, not to mention
the terrible odor which was
making me nauseous.
My chum, flopped down on
the sand beside me, watching
the whole ludricrous process,
never cracked a smile or blinked
an eye lash. God will reward
her for that if I never do.
"Is it cooking in?" occasional
ly I would sputter.
Looks to me like it is cook
ing out" was her response,
with a sigh of intense disap-
pointment Were a regular side
show, tool"
La Rose Discovered
Our thinking out loud was
rudely interrupted by a loud,
jocular masculine voice, who
demanded, between deep-throat-
ed chuckles: What in the Sam
Hill are you two girls trying to
do?"
With that, I opened my eyes,
Drawing the rivulets of the
nasty mess which had almost
blinded me Around me was a
boistrous mob and through
it the owner of the voice was
pushing his way. He was &C.
companied by a pretty young
woman who looked at us agape.
"Get up!" the man ordered,
peremptorily.
was frightened and leaped
to my feet in an efofrt to make
a getaway. He caught my arm
and held me tightly.
Stand still"
With palpitating heart and
on the verge of Mysteries, I
did so.
what's the big idea?" he de-
manded.
I'm only trying out a new
kind of makeup" I stammered,
mistaking him for a police
man, or a deputy sheriff at
least.
"A new kind Of makeup" he
exploded, and for a second his
eyes sought those of his female
companion who not once had
stirred or made a sound.
What do you call yourself"
he went on. "A prima donna or
the end girl in a female min.
strel show?
His cool, taunting voice irked
me. I drew, myself up on my
toes and Missed right back at
him, scornfully:
I'm Rose La France!"
"Oh!" he calculated, simulat-
ing surprise. Rose La France,
eh? So you're the great, great
Rose La France, Africa and Po-
dunk, Iowa"
He bowed deeply with an air
Of mock gallantry.
The Stage BeckOns
"Well, Rose" he said, you
can report on the stage at 9 a.
m. tomorrow for renearsals, but
leave off that makeup stuff
that is if you can scrub it off in
time"
He thrust a card into my
hand and with his companion,
vanished.
stared stupidity at the card,
too surprised to utter a sound
or to notice the curious crowd,
by this time grown to proper
tionS that would have made old
P. T. Barnum enviouS.
"Alma!" My chum finally
gushed in awe. do you know
who that was?"
I had a hard time collecting
my thoughts, but finally, after
much blinking to clear my eyes
Of the odious makeup Concoc.
ton, I saw that the card bore
the names of William Rock and
Maude Fulton and a theater on
Powell Street, where they had
scheduled 1.-THE Girl at the
Gate" for it's premiere.
This production was only one
of many backed, as I after
ward learned, by Bronco
Billy" who just the day before
had turned me down cold.
The Girl at the Gate" I was
too Supplied to move away
from the rubbering throng.
Yes, I was at the gate" the
golden gate of Ambition, the
gateway to my chosen career.
"Is it real, or phoNey," my
chum, who came back to earth
quicker than I did, blurted out.
Then, with that swift premo.
milton so common among Ger.
tain types of women, she an
swered her own question be-
fore I could think up a reply.
1T is real, Alma" she de-
clared solemnly, and without
the slightest hint Of jealousy
or doubt. TT is real! Your
life has just begun"