THE HISTRIONIC BEAUTY CURE

New Zealand Times, Volume LIII, Issue 12453, 22 May 1926, Page 15

THE HISTRIONIC BEAUTY CURE

= TEARS | | By STELLA HARLEY | tliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiMitiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii:

In the course of discussing audiences, a theatrical manager assured me that women still flock to the play that will ensure them the luxury of a “good cry.” His theory is that our sex feels better *ster an orgy of tears—idle tears; and as we face our own individual problems so manfully these days—as we are, in general, dry-eyed—-we have to get our traditional age-old beauty cure by other means. Women—said my theatrical friend—are still unable to resist the appeal of sheer histrionic sob-stuff when it is “put over” by some favourite actress or god-like hero, caught in the net of unrequited love. They have to suffer vicariously in the sorrows of the stage, where voices with tears in them can start their own lachrymal glands working; a feat that real life cannot compass, because women are too busy to bother. But when they do permit themselves leisure, a theatre is their goalj their Mecca the play with the maximum number of sobs. Though I flouted the managerial theory to his face, I couldn’t help remembering that of the feminine friends who flocked to see “Romance” and the incomparable Doris Keane—the greater number of them, confessing to regular attendances for the entire run of the piece, were logical, sternminded, Amazonian careerists. So perhaps there is something in the masculine idea after all!

An excellent cleanser and reviver for all xylonite wear, piano keys, and knife handles, ia to moisten a clean, soft rag with a few drops of eau-do-Colcgne, wipe the articles well, and polish with a clean, dry cloth. To keep flies out of a siok room, in the morning dip a sponge in boiling water and place it in a saucer; then pour over the sponge, about half a teaspoonful of oil of lavender. Bepent this about midday, and the roam will be oloar of flies all day.