Judge — October 15, 1921 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

Reginald Birch humor, and the pathcs expressed in some of his close-ups is very fine and dignified. A certain picture brought back keenly one of my earliest recol- lections; for when my parents, on going out to India, left me with my grandfather, a retired naval officer, Drawn by ReciNauy Bincn. Here Ceddie’s charm almost breaks the Earl’s obstinate prejudice, and Mary is at her winsome best. Mr. Gillingwater as the Earl gives a performance which is capital— a cross between crustiness and grudging admiration. In all the “sets” the art of the producer is manifest, both interiors and exteriors being absolutely convincing in their realism. Drawn by REGINALD Biren, The picture gallery in which the little Lord with becoming modesty introduces the portraits of his “‘Aunt’s Sisters,” and Mr. Hobbs’ sturdy democracy for a moment wavers, is a beautiful set, an altogether charming composition, and my hat is off ta Director Jack. in the Isle of Jersey, it was then cus- tomary for the ladies to retire after dinner, leaving the men to their wine. In those benighted days it was not a criminal offense to drink a glass of wine at the table. So when left to ourselves by the females of the family, we men—viz. my grandfather eighty-four years of age and myself etat five—charged our glasses, mine consisting of a tiny liqueur glassful of port, poured by the old gentleman, who would then fill his own more generous glass, raise it, and say: “Reggie, boy, Her Majesty!” This was a daily func- tion, and I fear I am still an in- corrigible monarchist; for though the name of the Queen has changed, Her Present Gracious Winsomeness Mary Queen of Movieland, has no 23 more loyal or devoted subject; and it is with fervent homage that I repeat: “Her Majesty.” LINES TO A LADY* By A. H. FOLWELL Alt day she sits by the window, Her face just glued to the glass, To glimpse the coming and going, Towatch, while the neighbors pass. And never a one can dodge her, Or hope to evade her eye, And never a thing can happen But she knows why. And when (may her life be lengthy!) She enters the portal bright, She ne’er will insist on cymbals, On harp, or a robe of light. She’ll only ask for a cloudlet, Somewhere the throne-room nigh, And she’ll spend eternity watching The saints go by. Name and address on application. comicbooks.com