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"How Are Your Legs?"
That was the question put to Clyde Fillmore when he set out to become a star.
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"I've seen them— and they're perfectly wonderful'."
IF you were a man with six feet and one inch to your credit, and were the possessor of a matinee-idol face — to say nothing of a dimple in the chin, and hands that a sculptor might envy — and had in addition to all this masculine pulchritude, a mellow speaking voice and a figure that would run a close second to the late Apollo Belvedere — if you were all this, I say, and went hunting for a job on the stage or screen, would you expect a manager to give you a casual once-over, and, apparently without noticing 3'our good points, put his cigar in the side of his mouth and demand curtly : "How are your legs ?"
That's what happened to Clyde Fillmore when he invaded the film Rialto several years ago looking for a chance to hitch his wagon to stardom. Was fie shocked? He was! He had always thought of legs as belonging to — well, that is, as being the exclusive property of chorus girls and Winter Garden beauties. It never occurred to him that a man would be called upon to display — well, anyway, it was an astonished young man who rolled up his trousers cuffs and allowed a businesslike manager to pass upon the quality of his well-turned calves. And it was a very flabbergasted young man who came out of the manager's office with the part of the garter man in the Broadway success, "It Pays to Advertise," stowed away safely in his pocket.
"I never knew I had legs before," said Mr. Fillmore, with the wide responsive smile that is characteristic of him. "But I've found it out a good many times since. When I was engaged to play the leading role in 'Civilian Clothes' at the Morosco Theater
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