In the Theatre of Yesteryear, when I starred in "Sweet Girl," a play especially written for me by my husband, Anshel Schorr, that time author-director of the Arch Street Theatre, Philadelphia, oftentimes I noticed in the wings a little, soulful, black-eyed girl gazing spellbound with wonder and fascination upon what that Fairyland called the Theatre might be like.

The song hit in that play was "Oh, Those Beautiful Eyes," and each day as she came to the theatre accompanied by her mother, she listened with rapt attention as I rendered that song. One day she shyly presented to me a parody in English of "Oh, Those Beautiful Eyes," that she had written. It was so good, so humorous, so human, that I used it time and again with unfailing success.

Thus at the tender age of eleven when most children are still dreaming, she gave evidence of unmistakable talent. Not long after she played a small part in another play my husband had written for me called "Moid mit sachel" (A Girl With Common Sense). Many who observed her as she acted recognized her talent and admired her naturalness and simplicity. I was then her favorite star. Following the premiere of that play, she came to my dressing room. Her face was tear-stained, and when I inquired the cause, she answered, "I only wish that some day I'd be like you." With fine emotional understanding she enacted for me one part in the play. She showed such certain dramatic sense and feeling, that I knew that I was witnessing the "birth of a star." Bending down and kissing her I said, with sure conviction, "Molly dear, the time will come when you will be a great star, and I will be your most ardent admirer."

How happy am I that my prophecy became a reality, and I have become her most ardent admirer, and proudly do I pay tribute tonight to a great star whose work in the theatre has enshrined her in the hearts of her public, and whose playing on the stages of many nations has made of her an international artiste.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star. None, now wonder who you are.