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Douglas MacLean and Margaret Morris Find Happiness in Hay Stack As Baby Grins


"Aint it the truth, Mr. Finkleburg? Yes. And so why not the ankles in a feature play (for public consumption with beauty comic, huh? So a scenario with ankles for the public, Miss Apfel, you will get and perhaps maybe some slap stick to assist the ankles with a hotel for impression, what? No! Don't esk? If gentlemen patrons won't look at faces on Broadway or perhaps cross town why should they in moving picture art, so ankles it is with high skirts of Paris, Miss Apfel. Dictation!"

Margaret Morris will never launch a thousand ships in ancient Greece. She probably thinks ancient Greece can be removed by dry cleaning anyway. But many is the row boat would put to sea to see ankles like hers. The producers of "That's My Baby" knew that too well. They counted the row boats and called for Douglas MacLean to take command. But ankles are after all, especially Miss Morris' very slender supports for a feature film. Aud thus cometh comedy in the guise of a child who attaches himself to Douglas on land, on sea, on foam, and makes comedy stalk beside the ankles.

And then one must help the organist find tunes. So the name gives rest to the weary brain of Martel and his assistant by suggesting all the "baby" hits of the past year for accompaniment. They took the suggestion. So there is no reason for lack of symmetry in this dual art of comic music and comic muse. It is certainly a system.

And the picture is not unamusing. Douglas does himself noble as the master of pantomime and Margaret is there with the ankles when the infield breaks. The lighting is bad and the settings are rather trivial, but the humor is Grade B, domestic, and good for a hot night. But that is not all.

There is a woman. Now obviously one must mention something to back up such a startling statement. There is a woman who dances in the Metropolitan's idea of Keats plus Gluck and a foursome of harps--and she certainly has it--and more than that she can dance which is something as anyone knows. So, is the Metropolitan really worth leaving from the books, from the finals, from the marks what with them are? Well, as General Sherman said of war, "Don't esk?"

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