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\fl Hfll/y»rooi^ Uo%e\
But then, everybody loves Red, his dimples, his Edna, this story about hinn
always has had to take care of all business deals when ther-e were any deals to take care of.
He keeps bringing clowns home to lunch. "Who's this?" Edna will ask. "Honey," Red will explain, "he's that funny clown that rolled the people in the sawdust last night at Hagenbeck and Wallace's Circus. Remember how Cary Grant went into hysterics over him?"
And Edna will welcome the clown and he will come in and sit there, the .saddest, most forlorn little man in the world.
"Clowns," Red says, "aren't funny. They're very sad."
Red should know. He was a clown himself with a top circus for two years when he was a ripe old fourteen or so. His father, who died be
fore Red was born, had been a clown all his life with Hagenbeck and Wallace's Circus.
Today, Red is the clown of MetroGoldwyn^Mayer, which you know if you saw "Whistling In The Dark" and "Ship Ahoy," among a number of others. Rowdy, noisy, genuine, he makes the Hollywood glamour boys look a little — well, honestly the word IS ridiculous. He doesn't mean to. He doesn't know he does, as a matter of fact. But you .see Red and Edna are what people are like when you peel off the veneer and get down to rock-bottom humanity. Red knows from nothing about Ciro's, or giving ultra parties (Red and Edna tried just once to give a dinner party, and boy, did it smell!), or jewelry, oi monogrammed chichis. or the froufrou
that makes up so much of Hollywood's social life.
He cari ies a coin purse. It's brown and opens at the top and rattles inside with dimes and things and Red loves it. Everything the carrying of a coin purse by a man represents — meekness, respectability, timidity, elders' meetings at the church, membership on the new fire hose committee — is a part of Red's character, which is wonderful, only you'd hardly expect to find it in a former circus clown, burlesque comedian and vaudeville actor. That's what's so confusing about it.
Why, so help us, that goon is so hill-billyish he will have absolutely nothing to do with that newfangled invention called the telephone.
"It clicks and makes noises, " he explains {Continued on page 70)
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Bv uiu iumm
Red clowns to net a laugh. Near left, opposite page: A Skelton spread-eagle to the tune of "Keep your eye on boll and you'll never hit it"
Left: He has an argument, splits the difference, wins palms up. Below: Good groundwork by Skelton, but he's a fall guy for anyone!