Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 3 — page 45: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE SONG OF THE SWAN.. the most beautiful, an’ they lef’ it to a guy named Paris to decide.” “ That’s a town,” corrected Polly. “This guy Paris,” went on Max, disre- garding her interruption, “‘ went an’ gave the prize t’ one of the other Janes ‘cause she promised him a swell wife; but we got t’ change that a little an’ dope it out so’s you get the medal.” “Sure,” complacently admitted Polly. “Stead o’ only three dames to pick from we'll have the whole chorus in tights, an’ posin’, an’ let this guy Paris judge ’em all. Maybe we'll let the audience pick a winner by applause.” ‘““ Not the skinny ones,” objected the god- — elect. ‘““ Naw; we'll pick some new girls that ‘Il show up good. Just one skinny one fr comedy.” ‘* Some picture!” mused the new-born Juno. “Some picture’s right! Lots o’ pep, an’ then you’ll come in in draperies an’ throw ‘em off an’ reveal the Perfect Woman. Some pep! It ‘Il be a riot!” And Max rubbed his fat hands in self-gratification. ‘Do I have t’ sing?” anxiously inquired Polly. ‘““ Aw, just maybe one ’r two talkin’ num- bers just t’ lead the chorus.” “Well, I'll try it. Anything once ’s my motto.” “ll order the full-sheets an’ costumes t’-morrow. You be ready early to get out to a photographer’s.”’ Without volition, without ambition, un- questioning the future, and utterly reliant upon her gift of beauty, Polly Morgan thus climbed the theatrical ladder from lowest rung to peak in one careless step. The same fate that had picked her from the streets and sent her to be the quarry of Tom Lester’s falcon-questing promoted her again. Her code of expediency knew no qualms; her indifference to spiritual progress interposed no objections. Max Weisbaum was well pleased when he left her. He saw in her the means to further his ambitions, and in her inappe- tence he recognized the characteristic that would allow him free rein in future traffic with her as his stock in trade... He chose 300 her for his purpose exactly as he selected the stage trappings for his new act, and with as much care. Soon the caryatidelike posters of Juno the Perfect Woman began to flank the entrances to burlesque theaters. CHAPTER III. THE SINGLE GIFT, UNO the Perfect Woman was a success. Weisbaum craftily accomplished in the picture of which Juno was the central fig- ure just the right admixture of classicality and carnality. He shrewdly guessed that under the guise of art he could go to lengths forbidden to less esthetic showmen—and he went the limit. His version of the judg- ment of Paris, if inaccurate in details, was lavish in voluptuousness, and the show pros- pered because of the decadent attraction. Juno consumed the bulk of Max’s adver- tising allotment, and from hoardings and newspaper columns her praises and perfec- tions were forced upon the public. The attention paid the nominal prima donna of the show was slight in comparison, and that indignantly jealous lady made haste to forsake the field in great pique and much strong language, to the complete satisfac- tion of the manager. Juno remained in possession of the do- main of the star. With her accession of the title of prima donna more duties de- veloped upon her, and she was compelled to aid-to her posing several song numbers, crude attempts in which she learned to speak rather than sing, and smirk her way to applause that in no justice could have been evoked by her vocal talents. With the birth of Juno there died the old Polly Morgan. She discarded some of her old characteristics as easily as she did her old name. True, the new creature who sold her beauty for indiscriminate masculine de- light retained some of the traits that Polly Morgan had known—her code of expedi- ency, for instance; but she built a new character that doffed the sullen subordina- tion of the chorus girl and donned the haughty arrogance that becomes a prima donna. ‘ She’s gettin’ ’way up-stage,”’ was ‘ Ks CORMICLOO© Go}