Naturally, therefore,—when "Daddy Long-Legs" came back to the Olympic last week one made a point of being there. Having seen this film once before, one curious as to how it would For as the cinema must make its appeal instantaneously, there was the possibility that it would show everything it had to reveal at first sight and that- case repetition might be come wearisome. Mut "Daddy Long-Legs" stands the test well. More delightful than ever appeared the comedy, the swift transition from that to pathos and back again to comedy; more vivid the drab sameness of life John Grier Home, where, as Judy says in the book—We had plenty to eat and plenty to wear, sufficient water to wash in, and o furnace la the cellar. But there was one deadly likeness. Our lives were absolutely monotonous and uneventful.
Perhaps Mrs. Lippett is painted unnecessarily black on the screen, but if you watch carefully for the little things that Judy lets slip in her letters, the picture seems true enough. The only false note is where Jervie Pendleton, mad with grief at Judy's refusing him, is made to wander for hours in dress clothes in the pouring rain. Why could he not have been made to catch pneumonia while hunting in Canada, as in the book? As for Mary Pickford, nowhere surely is her art more perfectly shown, not even in that tour de force ''Faunt-
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.