Identifier: literarydigest60newy (find matches)
Title: The literary digest
Date: 1919-01-04
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Subjects:
Publisher: New York : Funk & Wagnalls (etc.)
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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as happened, she makes her way. Nor the line of light underthe door and the shattered lock and the moment when sheopens the door. We never look into that room with her; wesimply see her draw back from it and, very rigid, sit down in achair somewhere in the black emptiness outside, holding herselfstiff and quiet so as not to feel crazy. Then as she sits tlicrc apath of light streams slowly from the oi)ening door and on handsand knees a girl creeps out, creeps to that chair, grasps her mis-tresss skirt and lifts herself enough to lay her lu>a(l in her mis-tresss lap. At that the quiet stiffness breaks in an impassioned movement and the little American surges down over the girllike a wave of desperate pity, of futile and impotent protection;they cling to each other there in a grouping that has the nobilityof sculpture with all the warmth of life. Photography! I thinkso! And the acting of those women! But I want you to thinkof the dignity and decency and mercy of such a presentation of
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DOUGLAS FAIRBANKS AND MARY PICKFORD. The movie millionaires as imagined by a clever American cartoonist,Kate Carew, in the London Taller. our popular horror and compare it with all the callous, ram-shackle go-bangs that have clattered a thousand crimes on crimeswithout our now being able to remember one from another!Is there any such vicious folly as that of producers who persistin playing down to what they consider the public taste? Ima-gine Mary Pickford herself, having gone back to Christmas-cardpathos, to the comedy that consists in shaking her curls andputting too many spoonfuls of sugar in the tea! Whats themeaning of it? Here were these perfect things, not over any-bodys head, as simple as cereals and as glowing as fire, just thethings for people to come and warm their hearts at, to come andfeed their eyes on. The movie fan, for whom Miss Tracy primarily deliversthese enthusiasms, now intervenes with the assurance that Ive always felt just that way myself. Only—there is alway

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