Life — September 28, 1928 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

Dear Pat. Winvaro: The mob was gabbing about Jean West's recent mar- riage to Byron Chandler, the mil- lionaire, and we couldn’t get over the good breaks that Bape to chorus girls. I think you met Jean when you were here last. She was the cute litte sorrel-topped thing with the shapely Mistinguettes who used to hoof and mouth it down at the Frivolity and Silver Slipper Clubs. Well, anyhow, when Mr. Chandler came there he lost little time proposing, and so they were married and the last we heard of them, they were sleigh-riding or ice-skating at St. Moritz, which is a tall millinery place in Switzer- land. Jean deserves that kind of break, any- way. Her rep around the Stem was always At and everybody liked the kid. But can you imagine leaping from an ordinary café revue right into all of that gelt at ALONG TH - EM one clip? Golly! You seldom hear of any salesladies doing it. I take that back. Hope Hampton was a saleslady when Jules Brulatour came to shop in a Phila- delphia store and Hope happened to be rolling her big blue orbs at him and bing! just like that, she had him. Mr. B. is the man who gets a third of a penny from cach Eastman kodak negative that is sold. He gets something like that, at any rate, and last season he backed his frau in a flop which cost him $300,000. But he con- sidered the money well spent because the critics raved about his wife's vocalizing. Am I too vulgar? Oh, I could bore you to death with chorus girls who clicked with the nobility, the money and the Car- riage Trade, but the most interesting romance around here concerned Frances Mildern, also of the Frivolity Club and later of “Rio Rita.” Frances appeared in revues where she had to reveal plenty of undraped cuticle but on the Sabbath she officiated as a Sunday School teacher up on Washington Heights. Only eighteen, but a Sunday schoolma’am. Her boy friend, whose name doesn’t “Here, boy, why don’t you pay attention? Are you an idiot or something?” “N-no, sir. I'm just air-minded.” matter, was a preacher and he used to cal] for Frances every three o'clock in the morning at her café. Now here is the cute ote of it. He was young and good. looking, which explains why Frances cared in a big way, and when he came into the night club he went to the wash- room, where he lowered his coat collar and then turned his collar around, affix. ing a hand-made bow tie. Then he ankled into the club proper and waited for his “heart,” and those of us on the sidelines thought it was the most different romance we had ever witnessed along Boloney Boulevard. The long-distance love affair record, however, is the case of a boy and girl who started cooing when they were fourteen, That was seven years ago. They met at public school and both graduated into the ensembles of Ziegfeld shows. She spurns the attentions of stage door Johnnies and others and he won't look at other ankles, either, The reason they have never mar- ried is that they feel it “isn’t time yet.” But they are saving their money and it whoopee long now. It appears that he makes swell gin on the side, which he peddles for $1.50 a quart (ritz for con- vulsion), but the op Position is so strong in Times Square now that business has been terrible. Speaking of love, Willard, I just heard the origin of the First Dirty Irish Trick. Mary Daly of “The Three Musketeers” relayed it to me. It seems that in Ircland centuries ago there was a lad named Phil McCool. A handsome boy he was, too, and the colleens of the valley of Slieven- aman pursued him. So to give them all a fair break he told them that if they would race up a certain hill, the winner would become his bride. They agreed. When they reached the top of the hill, however, they discovered McCool in the arms of sibiker woman and That Is the Origin of the First Dirty Irish Trick! Walter Winchell. INSPIRATION His office boy sat drumming loudly oa the desk.....Fifteen minutes later the great inventor had drawn up plans for the first outboard motor. First Co-ep: I don’t sce you going out with that Anatomy Professor any more. Secono Co-ep: No, I’ve learned my lesson. comicbooks.com