Judge — July 24, 1926 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

Sellow band— fits all roll- film cameras, the open foul Gypsying de luxe down a long winding trail with the whole wide world at your feet. Will your ride be just afading memory or will you keep it forever in pictures? Only a camera that is instantly ready—a Ready-Set camera! — can keep your memories. It has no fussy adjustments to worry you. Three inexpensive models. ANSCO CAMERAS 6.SPEEDEX FILM Pioneer Camera Makers of America Axsco—Binghamton, N. Y. and the exhaustion, faintness, nau- sea and dizziness caused by travel motion. Journey by Sea, Train, ci uto or Air in perfect comfort Mothersill's. 32 73¢- & $1.50 at Drug Stores or direct Tho Mothersill Remedy Co., ‘ic New York 0 Smart styles for men and women. Satisfaction guaranteed by its mer. chants and .. Westcott Hosiery Mills at Dalton wo of the recent openings on | Cinema Row present a most in- structive contrast. Both are melodramas of love and blood, with knife play, passionate embraces, stealth, fury, terror and all the other familiar ingredients. Both star world famous players. But one picture is German and the other is American, and one has genuine dignity and the other is cheap and ridiculous. And as much as it grieves me to admit it, it is unquestionably the American film that is tripe. Its name is “The Road to Man- dalay” and its star is Lon Chaney, assisted by Lois Moran. The scene is laid in the Far East, with great emphasis on the wickedness of the steaming tropics and particularly of that “sink of hell,” or some such term, Singapore. “Singapore Joe,” in the person of Lon Chaney, keeps a dive there. He is got up most elaborately to scare little children and other 100 per cent. Americans. His left eye is a staring, sightless marble; a deep scar bisects his left cheek; his hair is clipped like a convict’s; his shirt, open to the navel, frames a mat of fur bristling from his chest, and blood-curdling grins and spasms of black passion chase themselves across his mobile map. Lois Moran, of course, is the very antithesis of all this. She radiates purity and sweetness and cl The comic strip wife buys a new rolling-pin. One look from the limpid depths of her chaste soul can convert a seasoned crook to paths of rectitude and even heroism thenceforth. She proves it. And yet she is the daughter of Singapore Joe. She doesn’t know it herself and she loathes him, but he knows it and secretly he adores her, plans for her, counts the days until such time as he can retire from his honky tonk with a fortune and give her whatever her heart desires. Pathos laid on with a trowel, n'est pas? But wait, here comes the shovel. She falls in love with one of her father’s cronies, a young English derelict known as the Admiral, amus- ingly played by Owen Moore. The Admiral has bathed his leprous being in the purity of her gaze and come out clean. But Singapore Joe still considers him desperately unworthy. There is a skirmish in the girl's presence with knives. Joe gets the upper hand. But just as he raises his dirk to dispatch his daughter's lover she finds her strength and her courage and plunges a knife into her father’s back. And thus love finds a way. The thing reminds me of one of those trips to Chinatown so popular once, maybe still, among credulous visitors to the Big City. They al- ways found a Chinatown staged to suit them. Clever people, the Chi- nese. | comicbooks.com r ‘ ] I f