“That’s fate.”

“Oh,” said EPICAC’s paper ribbon. He said no more, but his tubes burned brightly, showing that he was thinking about fate.

The next morning a telephone call from Dr. Ormand woke me up. He told me the terrible news that EPICAC was ruined. When I arrived at EPICAC’s room I found there wasn’t enough left of him to add two and two. On the floor I saw a paper ribbon on which the following was written:

“I don’t want to be a machine . I want Pat to love me. But fate made me a machine. That it the only problem I cannot solve. I cannot do on this way. Good luck, my friend. Love Pat well. I am going to disappear out of your lives forever. You will find on this ribbon a wedding present from your friend EPICAC.”

I had loved and won. EPICAC had loved and lost. But before he died, he had done all he could to make my marriage a happy one. EPICAC left me anniversary poems for Pat – enough for the next five hundred years!

Film Star

As long she could remember Pauline had always wanted to be a film star. Straight from school she went to a London study where she hoped to get a job immediately. But the agent there told her; “There is nothing we can do for you at the moment. We are booked up for the whole season.” That did not discourage Pauline . She continued trying one studio after another. Finally she did get into films – not as a star though – she became one of the unimportant characters in the background behind the stars.

Every evening she would go round to agency to see if she was needed in film the next day. Quite often she was , but as always in the background- in a crowd. Still she was looking forward to becoming a star. Many ambitious young people want to do this. Like many other careers the middle steps are always crowded but there is room at the top. Pauline did not mind waiting for her chance.

However , nobody asked her to be a star, the telephone never ring to offer her a big part; no producer ever came to her, cigar in one hand and film contract in the other.

One evening the man at the agency rang and said : “ There’s a film for you tomorrow, Pauline. Hampton Studios. You are due there by eight o’clock. You’re a telephonist. Wear your own clothes.”

Pauline got to Hampton Studios by a quarter to eight, and gave her name at the gate.

Two hours later , one of the assistant directors told her to go and get made up and she was in. The second assistant director showed her where to sit – there were two other girls with her, and the tree had to sit at a switchboard.

“ O.k.,” said a very loud voice . “ You ready to go ?”

“ Yes , Mr. Kline,” said the first assistant.

“ Right,” said the voice . “ Let’s begin shooting the scene.”

The red light went on , the bells rang and ran the scene had to come through a door , cross the set and stop just in front of where Pauline and others girls were sitting, hesitate for a moment and then walk towards the camera.

Mr. Kline didn’t like it. “ That’s bad ,” he said turning to his assistant for help. “Put some dialogue in there. Somebody must sat something.”

The two men talked for a moment and then Mr. Kline shouted out : “Hey , you at the end of the row there!”

Pauline jumped – “ Me?” she said.

“Yes , you . I want a line from you here. I want you to look at Harry when he comes in and say , ‘ Mr. Marlower, there’s a call just come in for you .’ Can you say that?”

Pauline said she could, and they ran the scene through again. This time Mr. Kline was very pleased, and the star smiled at her. Now Mr. Kline was satisfied with the scene.

“ That’s great ,” he said , coming over to Pauline. “What’s your name?”

“Pauline Grant.”

“You do fit the part perfectly , Pauline,” Mr. Kline said .”Thanks.”

Pauline went home that evening , feeling very happy, even triumphant. There was no reason to be so thrilled, she told herself, but she couldn’t help it. A line at last , two in fact , and the director , the great Kline , had thanked her. For week after she fought , wait, until the opening night.

She went to the opening night , not invited , but she managed to go two tickets, one for herself and one for her boy friend.

Before the film started she saw the director of the film. “Mr. Kline,” she shouted , but he didn’t hear her.

It was a good film – or at least the press said so the next morning. The star was given wide publicity. The review said that; as always , he portrayed his role with great talent. The critic expected a successful run for the film.

But there was no mention in the papers on Pauline, Her scene , in fact, together with lots of other unimportant scenes, had been cut and the name of Pauline Grant meant nothing to anyone, not even to Samuel Kline, who had very short memory

Half a Gift