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Curiosity to know what our neighbors are doing; what the young married couple in the apartment next door are quarreling about; why the old lady on the next floor has tear-reddened eyes; why the policeman on his beat wears such a jaunty smile of cockey happiness; how the pretty stenographer can dress so well on twenty-five dollars a week; why the clever young man is failing in business; why the Gardners are getting a divorce—curiosity is one of the ruling passions of our lives.

And that passion is not an evil one. It is a hungering after knowledge to use as a torch to light our own stumbling feet. Maybe the others have learned lessons from their experiences, which would help us in ours. This stretching out of the curious, exploring fingers of the heart toward other hearts is our only means of contact. Every soul is bitterly lonely, for at least a fraction of the time. And every soul yearns to touch other souls, to get warmth from contact.

We have gone into the business of wholesaling soul contacts. We believe you want what we are giving you—a magazine of real life stories, from which you can garner the experience you crave, and by which your soul can touch other souls, in a satisfying, human contact that will lift the weight of loneliness—and help.

That is the purpose of our new magazine—REAL LIFE STORIES. The first issue will be the October, on sale September 15 on all news stands. Twenty-five cents the copy.

Buy a copy of the first issue and judge for yourself if we have made good on our promise.



to the "profession" when Charlie Chaplin dropped in. Charlie happened to know one of the party and came over to pass the time of day. The party proved hospitable and Charlie proved responsive, so a solicitous waiter hurried up with another chair. And for hours Charlie talked, brilliantly, interestingly and uninterruptedly. All about his new picture, which by the way, deals with the life experiences of Peggy Hopkins Joyce; about his trip abroad—he's still talking about it; and about Charles Spencer Chaplin. The Tatler staggered out about midnight, but the monolog continued until 3:35 the next morning.

Egoism, would you say? Or artistic temperament? Or just loneliness? Any man that talks as interestingly as Charlie Chaplin and loves an audience as well as he does, ought to have a wife, say we.

seems to be a difference of opinion over why Evelyn Brent took her make-up box and left the Fairbanks lot. Evelyn said that she had signed with Doug to work in pictures, and that so far she had been the world's champion rester.

Doug said that his Thief of Bagdad picture had to be an airy, ethereal sort of picture, and that Evelyn was a bit too voluptuous to match the picture.

But Dame Gossip says that Mary put her pretty little foot down and told Doug to get another leading lady. For be it known that Doug has an appreciative eye for feminine pulchritude, and Mary knows the weaknesses of sex.

The same thing is said to have happened when Doug was casting for Robin Hood. Marguerite de la Motte had been eminently satisfactory to the public, and to Doug, and Fairbanks expected to retain her for Robin Hood. But Marguerite had been announcing fondly in print that all that she was and all she hoped to be she owed to Douglas Fairbanks, or words to that effect. So Mary changed his mind and picked out Enid Bennett, a lady who was safely in love with her own husband.

So there's three stories. You pay your money and you takes your choice.

and John McCormick were married on August 26, and Colleen has a platinum band next to her engagement ring of two tiny emerald shamrocks with diamond centers. Emeralds bring Colleen luck, she says, and the Shamrock is her favorite flower.

years in serial pictures certainly makes a gal agile. The other evening at the Cocoanut Grove, hundreds of brilliant balloons were released on the dancing floor. The game was to keep one's own balloon intact, while endeavoring to burst one's neighbor's balloon.

A glorious scramble ensued. Big stars and little stars scurried in and out between the tables, hugging their balloons as if they were more precious than rubies. But Ruth Roland knew a trick worth two of that. She climbed up on a table and stayed there. And when the conflict ended, her pretty red balloon was the only one intact.

For a prize they brought out a monkey, a most inquisitive little beast. Ruth took him home and parked him in the bathroom over night. The next morning she sprung him on her aunt, who promptly fainted when the monko hopped onto her shoulder and wound his tail around her neck. It looked as if the little monkey was all set to enjoy a good home, but monko was too effervescent. After he had wrecked the contents of the china closet and a vase or two, Ruth turned him over to the zoo.

diet! Eat what you like," says Agnes Ayres in a recent interview. Agnes declares that she never diets, and one might well infer that this is the cause of her slenderness.

Oh Agnes! Wait until you are fair and forty, and watch the ounces climb! Just keep on absorbing three square meals a day and Father Time will attend to the rest. It might be well for ambitious reducing specialists to take Miss Ayres' address for future use.

is wearing a sparkling square-cut diamond on the right finger, and blushingly admits that the diamond is the gift of Jack White, the youthful producer of Mermaid comedies. When will they be married? Pauline isn't quite sure.

"It's too late to be a June bride now, isn't it?" queried Pauline when questioned. "Maybe we'll decide to make it fifty-fifty and get married about Christmas time." 