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The Moviegoer



Well, she's here at least. Miss America of 1938, arriving at nine this morning, the dimpled darling that these great United States have temporarily taken into their hearts. At first we couldn't see what they were raving about. She isn't like most girls. She doesn't dress smartly or tell dirty jokes the way debutantes do; she doesn't drink or do the Big Apple. She isn't even beautiful; we spent two days trying to discover if she used make-up. She didn't.

But after those two days we found we liked her better than most of the girls we knew. Maybe it was because we knew here better, and had seen her react to danger, to beauty, had seen the mother instinct come out in her in a subdued sort of way. Maybe it was because she liked the things we like; animals and green fields and wishing wells. And she had nice friends, simple people, a relief from the kind nice follow you see around the Yard. She was "different," and we liked her, and we'll be on hand to welcome Snow White when she pulls into the University this morning.

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