Movie Classic (Mar-Aug 1936)

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D. 78c 6lus postage or send 80c and we pay postage. Take advantage of lis amazing offer now. Send your photos today. Specify eize wanted, STANDARD ART STUDIOS 104 S. Jefferson St. Dept. 226-H CHICAGO. ILLINOIS REMOVES HAIR PERFUMED XBAZIN CREAM or POWDER Smaller Tube 10* Simply apply — wash off. Giant Size Tube or Powder £ ^\A naver costs more than ■ . ■*& V/ ALL DRUG-DEPT. STORES-TEN CENT STORES EASILY* QUICKLY* SURELY Louis DaPron, Eleanore Whitney and Robert Cummings swing into the rythmic "Tap-along," the feature dance of their new film musical for Paramount, Three Cheers for Love. Eleanore is rated the world's fastest tap dancer In Quest of Romance [Continued from page 39] the jungle before him. Failure meant the beach again. He was nearly two hundred miles up stream before he began to worry. He worried because things were going entirely too well. He knew from experience that the jungle is not a kind mistress; a poisonous barb too often lurks beneath her velvety green touch. As he stood athwart the bow watching the unending, sinuous curves of the river, despondency settled over him. The natives had been dangerously quiet all the way up. But that didn't worry him, nor did the heat that presaged an early monsoon season, nor did the pestilential insects. What did cause him a faint unease was the great show of pious friendliness that every black son-of-a-head-hunter he'd met had demonstrated. Not one had tried to make a crooked trade, not one had appeared, smeared with white river clay and brandishing his spear, the blood lust clear in his eyes. INSTEAD, there had been feasting in *■ every village and beautiful native girls in the full bloom of early adolescence were everywhere apparent. It wasn't right. A properly suspicious native keeps his women in the bush at the first sign of an approaching white. "Yess Sar!" an ancient chief fawned upon him, "Yess ! Tubby sure ! The Great Missions of the Great White-Man's God have shown us the evil of taking our brothers' lives !" The row upon row of bleak, grey skulls on the racks of the Ravi-hut behind belied the lip-service, even had the ancient's eyes not held a pronounced leer. His son strode by, fresh from the jungle, blood on his hands and spear — his huge wad of hair teased out to unbelievable lengths, his body covered with cabalistic scar tattooing, his thick lips quivering in a carefully controlled, but nonetheless wild desire for more blood. He paused significantly before Flynn who casually dropped a hand on his revolver butt. The old man smiled his oiliest and, with an almost imperceptible shake of the head, performed the introductions. "My boy," he later said with undue pride, "is a great hunter. He has just killed a wild boar. Half of it we will give to the Holy Mission." Flynn often wonders if the Mission ever got any of that boar. For the next morning as he put up stream he noticed over the ridge pole of the young man's hut a drying skull . . . At length he reached the end of navigable water and struck inland just north of the last Mission outpost. So far he had lost only a single boy and was highly pleased with himself. That one had disobeyed orders and waded into the water after the body of a Bird of Paradise he'd dropped with an arrow. The plumage brings much money at trading posts and the carcass is good eating. But the boy never ate nor collected. A crocodile got him. As they approached their first village Flynn pitched camp — well outside, but, shrewdly, on the path to water. Maru, his Number One boy, went ahead with presents, trade knives and the like for the local chieftan. He returned, his brown belly glutted with feasting, bearing muni 82 Movie Classic for July, 1936