Judge — August 29, 1925 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE ART PRINTS SHOULD BE IN EYERY HOME “JUST A. SONG AT TWILIGHT” By Delevante Printed on Heavy Art Plate Paper with ‘de margins. Size about 19°x 13°. Sent postpaid to any address on receipt of 0c. “BOOK ENDS” By Delevante Also printed on Heavy Art Plate Peper with margins for framing. Sent postpaid to any address on receipt of 50c. “THE CURSE of DRINK” By Maud Tousey Fangel sla reproduction in three color deal mung conspicuoual overitha'table'at which youl mix your cocktails. to any Ask for proof sheets of other J Art Prints. : JUDGE Art Print Department Size 9° x 12°. Sent postpaid for 25 cents. Greater Circus Season with every gesture. He is souls (Continued from page 19) nickels, one thin dime, the tenth paht of a dollah! And if you do not think the show you see in theyah is worth ten times ten times what you pay to see it—come to me! Tell me you have been fooled, cheated, that I've misled you and misrepresented! And I will gladly give you back evahry penny you paid to see the show and $10 out of my own pocket! Step in folks! One dime to see the wurrld of peeecyewliarities! The domain of illusions! The home of freaks! Going-in, going-in, GOING- IN! The Palace of Wondahs! Right this way! How many, pleez? And so it started! Greater Movie Season! The world’s most colossal ballyhoo! I’ve seen the show and I’m not going to demand my ten pennies back. On one stage, laydeez and genul- mun, there’s W. C. Fields, alias Professor Eustace McGargle, juggler extraordinary, confidence man and dealer of three card monte. “It’s the ol’ Army game!” On another there is Lon Chaney, known to the circus world as Echo, the world-famous ventriloquial artist. He throws his voice and he throws a spiell “And that's life, folks! A little laugh! A little tear!” Fields in D. W. Griffith's screen version of the musical comedy, “Poppy,” now “Sally of the Saw- dust,” is the photographic exemplifi- cation of pantomimic perfection. A rival to, if not the master of, Charlie Chaplin, the great. Fields registers short of miraculously funny. don me for breaking down Pea way, but I just couldn’t hold myself in. You know how a good cry will stimulate one.) As the foster father of Sally, Carol Dempster, Fields is torn be- tween two emotions, his love for his adopted daughter and the money which she can earn for him. The great question, what to do? To re- veal the fact that she is the grand- daughter of wealth and breeding and possibly lose her or to keep her identity a secret forcing her to suffer the squalor of cheap circus life? That is the plot. But it is a sugar- coated pill of pathos that Mr. Griffith hands out, so sugar-coated, in fact, that all its medicinal value is happily lacking. What we have is an hilariously funny farce that stops at nothing to get a laugh but man- ages to catch them all on the fly. Carol Dempster plays the hoyden Sally with a fine sympathy and a splendid comedy sense, rushing head- long from tears to cheers with the airy lightness of a young girl’s heart (ain’t that touching?). Mr. Griffith has done noble—again! Has he ever failed? Hurray for the red, white and blue! Possibly “Sally of the Sawdust” is a bit lengthy, surely some of the subtitles could be dispensed with, but certainly it is most superb film fun, whether or not it ever feels the bite of the editor’s shears. Lon Chaney, as the ventriloquist, and Harry Earles as a most cruel and uncompromising midget, in Diner (indignantly)—Bring the proprietor here at once, there’s a wasp in my soup! Waiter—It’s no use sending for the boss, sir, ’e’s deadly scared of “em ‘imself. —Passing Show 627 West 43d St., New York, N. Y. comicbooks.com