Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1919)

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Frank Keenan is the sort of man every boy would like to have for his dacl. c |OME on," said Frank Keenan. "let me give you your .story — if you must have it — while we're watching the bouts at Vernon." Wrnon. a .^mall town adjacent to T.o? .Anceles, is famous—or notorious — for its arena where they have boxing contests twice a week. The Ik'hts at Vernon arc something of a rough affair, inasmuch as. before Prohibition hit us in the face, the patrons of Jack Doyle's renowned boxing emporium were wont to imbibe such stimulants as beer and wine throuch the neck of the bottle. In other words, parties there have been known to gel rough. "You know," continued Keenan, "I haven't missed a fight since I struck Los Angeles, and it seems that 1 spend all of my time at home either auctioning off a pig for the Salvation Army fund, or going to Bimini where the water's good, or settling myself here at the arena ringside. By gum, but I like ?. scrap' You know, fighting nowadays is getting like acting. — the new crop isn't producing the wallop that di.^tinguished the old one." Keenan is the sort of man every boy would like to have for his dail — the original of the platitude, 'Ask dad, he knows.' Grey, clear-headed, ready to fight at the drop of the hat, sensi