"I'm just a dainty bird, my fans are my wings, and the spotlight is the moon," declared Sally Rand as she discussed her famed dance with a CRIMSON reporter in the dressing room of a Cleveland theatre last week. "My dance isn't immoral, it requires art like any other dance and if you don't believe it, you might try it some time." The reporter declined Miss Rand's kind invitation and decided to take her word for it, as he watched her twirl a large white fan over her head with graceful movements.

"People seen to take such an interest in my work," laughed Sally as she wiggled her tows before the mirror and continued to play with her costume. "Not long ago I happened to mention that each of my fans cost $400, and that, consequently, I had to be very careful of them. Inside of a week I received a lovely letter from a boy in Cambridge suggesting that I buy smaller fans since they would be far less expensive and I wouldn't have to worry about misplacing them. I think it was sweet of him, don't your. The reporter hastened to inform her that the young man had doubtlessly expressed the opinion of the whole college and had showed the practical side of the education received at Harvard.

"I don't approve of girls dancing without any covering whatsoever," Sally announced with emphasis. "I shouldn't feel properly dressed at all unless I had something on, and so I smear white clay on my body before each performance. Here in Cleveland the Police also make me wear panties, and, although the audience can't determine whether I have anything on a policeman is always around to make sure I am properly clad."

At this point in the conversation Sally began to discuss her future, plans, "I hope to go back to the World's Fair next summer if we can agree on a angry. I have been offered &3000 a week. But I want $6000 weekly. After all my art is worth that much.

Miss Rand fondles a strong desire to act on the legitimate stage and hopes to do that type of work after the popularity of her present dance declines.