W. C. Fields : his follies and fortunes (1949)

W. C. Fields Sennett would pick up a property poker and eye him wistfully. One of the comedies they made was called The Chemist, a title Sennett clinched after a bloody engagement touched off by Fields' insistence on calling it, simply, W. C. Fields in a Drugstore. After the smoke had cleared away from the title fight, they combined their genius and produced a work for which the comedian, in particular, is fondly remembered by the Fields cult. Wearing a depressing white jacket, he appeared as the baffled but helpful proprietor of a small, shabby drugstore. As he stepped around his shop, carrying a feather duster and whisking gracefully at things like dollar alarm clocks, hot-water bottles, trusses and bonbons, various customers arrived. The first man said he was "just looking." Fields, behind the counter, kept pace with him, pointing out some of the more attractive offerings, ranging from dandruff cure to corn plasters, and finally pulled out a performing monkey on a stick. "Amusing little beggar?" he said, with a false, ingratiating laugh, and the man went to the rear of the store, used the telephone, and left. The next prospect, a woman of affluence, opened an expensive purse, and Fields rubbed his hands eagerly. She wanted a stamp. "Just one?" he inquired, smiling his comradely smile, and she said, "One will be plenty." He removed a sheet of stamps about two feet square and prepared to pinch one off the upper righthand corner. "Could I have the one in the middle, please?" she asked. "Of course, of course," he cried, with an understanding laugh, and he spent several minutes removing the stamp that appeared to be in the dead center. She handed over two cents and went out, to brave, happy cries of "Come in and see us again, won't you?" Fields' next customer, also a woman, approached with a painful show of timidity. She simpered and stood on one foot after the 220