First National Exhibitors Circuits
Copyrighted 1919 by
Mary Pickford Company
Art Titles by
Ferdinand Pinney Earle
|Miss Percy Haswell.|
Sallie Mc Bride
Jimmie Mc Bride
|Marshall A. Neilan.|
|Carrie Clarke Wards.|
Baby Souls, Kings of the Future, bearers of the Earth's great secrets—wainting to cross the Threshold of Life.
Babies are a lot like flowers. Some are born into the world nourished and cared for amid beautiful surroundings.
While others see the light of day from the sordid atmosphere of dump-heaps—stunted, crushed, and fighting for their very existence.
The late John Grier made his millions on convict labor. Therefore he ran his orphenage on the same principles.
Mrs. Lippett, the matron, is this kind of little posie.
Pansy Gumph, the matron's right hand. The only bloom we can liken her to is (we offer our sincere apologies) a STINK WEED.
The child of culture was christened Angelina Gwendolin Rosalind Wyckoff.
While the other…
Abbot Enamel Sign Co, 125 Church
Abbot Everett V, Lawyer, 45 Cedar
Residence, 160 E 91
Abbot Franck P. China, 95 Mad av.
Abbot Fred V Col.Corp.Engrs.39Whthl
Abbot John, Carting, 512 W 15
Abbot M. B. 34 H. Houston
∗ Abbotsford The, Apts. 411WEnd av.
Abbott Mme, Gowns, 17 W 51
"Your name is Jerusha Abbott."
All orphans look alike from any angle. Exhibit A, rear view.
Jerusha has had twelve years of being raised on the wholesale plan.
Jerusha Abbott, nicknamed by her fellow prisoners, 'Judy.'
Angelina Wyckoff—petted, pampered and spoiled.
But poor Judy…
on the mountain top
The Great Prune Strike.
Three times a day the orphans faced their common enemy, the prune.
"The lives of us orphans is just one darn prune after another!"
"Us boys is with you——starvation 'til we croak."
"P-R-U-N-E spells Prune
Eating them means our doom.
Life's too short and death too soon
To fill our tummies with the darn old Prune."
"Please, ma'am, we've dissolved not to eat no more prunes."
"Swear you'll stick."
"How's, oh h---!!"
"Oooh——I know a real nice dirty one."
Meanwhile the scabs…
A gentleman who takes things easily.
"Snacks of Goodness!"
"Please Mr. God, we want food."
"I didn't know He was so close."
As the empty hours go by.
"What's the matter with that building?"
"Let's go in before everything falls on us."
"You hang on here and I'll try and make the kitchen."
"Help yourselves—take all the jam you want."
Children are sometimes lent to us to bring God's message to Earth. There little tots await His summons to return to the Fold.
The whispering chorus.
"From now on—I'm boss—and them poor kids don't have to take no more baths—and kin have pickles and ice cream 'bout seventy times a day."
"All my life I've wanted to slide down them bannisters."
Judy calls the monthly wisit of the trustees Blue Wednesday.
Miss Pritchard, who is human even though she is a trustee.
"'Taint vanity—it's a spit curl."
"I was only trying to make a depression on someone."
"Get Miss Angelina a drink of water."
"How do you work it?"
"What can a lady expect from an orphan who doesn't even know who her own mother was?"
"If you're a lady—I'm glad my mother was an ash can."
"I want my mama."
"Judy, what is a mama?"
"A mama is something what us orphants aint got."
"She's sick and will get germs on my doll."
"The doctor says she aint goin' live long. Give her a little lend of it—I'll squish all the germs, honest—I will!"
"Love it quick, you aint going to have it long."
"She should be punished severely."
"GOD will punish little girls who steal and will send them straight to a burning hot—hell."
"As hot as this stove."
It's all very well to punish other people's children. But it's different matter when is comes to punishing our own.
"Please, darling, do as mother asks."
"I won't get out of this car until you promise to throw that nasty little Judy Abbott out into the street."
"Don't be harsh with her, dear, she is only expressing her indivuduality."
Far into the weary hours of the night Judy watches over the little one who wants her mama.
"I want my mama."
Out in the great unknown the mother hears the call, and comes with loving arms to take her baby home.
The hot-house rose, full blown.
"Mrs. Lippett says when I dies God will put me in a big fire 'cause I'se bad."
"He won't hurt you—God loves little children."
"What's the matter, Bosco. Got a tummy ache?"
"Ain't nuthin' in here to ache."
To add to Judy's troubles, it is Blue Wednesday.
"He aint naked naturally, ma'am, it's only while I'm mending his pants."
"Bosco must o' took it."
"He swallowed a bobbin.
"Gee! I lost my mouth organ."
"If Bosco has fits, I'll be blamed for it."
"The rich new trustee has arrived. If those youg'uns don't behave I'll skin-em-alive."
"Why do people order babies sent C. O. D. and then don't take them."
The only time the children see real food at the John Grier Home is when it is being served to the trustees.
This looks like a June-bug — but it's meant to be Any Trustee
"Be quiet—they may vote to have our voices cut out."
"Stop it!! Mugsey what are you doing?"
"They called me a hippopotamus two years ago."
"Then why are you hurting them now?"
"I never seed a pitcher of one 'til today."
"His naughty spirit must be broken."
"Judy, they're goin' to spank me on the spirit."
"You shant spank Freddie for something I've done."
"Is this the way you show your gratitude to the John Grier Home—by impudence and rebellion?"
"We are grateful—but you have robbed us the joys of childhood by your charity without kindness."
Miss Pritchard endeavors to interest the new trustee in Judy.
"There's a bright little girl here. I hope you'll be interested in sending her to college.
"She is quite a pretty little thing.
"I hate girls—especially pretty ones."
"Judy—you're wanted in the tip-toe room——Gee!! I think they're goin' to hang you."
"The new trustee has offered to send you to college."
"You are to ask no questions. He does not care to see you; write him once a month about your progress in college and he wishes you to know him simply as John Smith."
"Please, m'am, the new trustee is waiting to take Miss Pritchard home."
"Can't I even thank him?"
"I'm going to call him my dear Daddy-Long-Legs."
Five blocks away from the orphanage—with permission.
But—she forgot her ticket.
Home-sickness is a disease that Judy escapes, because one cannot very well be asylum-sick.
Julia Pendleton, whose forefathers were one of the ten thousand families who came over on the Mayflower.
Sally McBride is a true American aristocrat—Her father is the millionaire 'Over-alls King'.
I've been warned not to bother you with questions, but I wish you'd tell me just this—Are you awfully old, or just a little bit old? Here is your portrait but the problem is—Shall I add some hair?
"Judy, aren't you simply wild about Omar Khayham?"
"I've never tasted it."
"Why, Judy——he was a great poet."
"Did you come from the Massachusetts Abbotts?"
"I descended from a long line of telephone people."
Headquarters of Dan Cupid, un-LTD., World Dominion.
"It's time Judy Abbott fell in love—attend to it immediately."
Judy's first literary efforts…
Romeo and Juliet
Al Fresco Performance
MISS JERUSHA ABBOTT
|MISS JERUSHA ABBOTT|
Julia's Uncle, Jarvis Pendleton, who would give his riches to anyone who would take his relatives too.
Sally's brother, Jimmie McBride, a Princeton freshman who just hates himself.
"Don't introduce me to those silly college girls—they bore me."
"Who is she?"
"WHO IS SHE?"
"You've certainly made a mess of things."
"I'm sorry, but my arrow went right through Jimmie McBride and stuck in Jarvis Pendleton."
"You've probably started another of those darn triangle things that will end in the divorce court."
"Do you have to stand up every time I do?"
"Yes, according to Hoyle."
"Why does Mrs. Pendleton ignore me?"
"She isn't sure of your social position yet. Dad's millions made her my friend for life."
You don't have to guardian me this summer at all. The McBrides have invited me to their camp. I am going to write a novel while there and Jimmie McBride is going to teach me how to paddle a canoe by moonlight
GOLDEN HILLS OFFICE, PORTLAND
1917, JUNE 5
MISS JERUSHA ABBOTT
GOLDEN HILLS, PORTLAND, MASS.
MR JOHN SMITH PREFERS THAT YOU DO NOT ACCEPT
MRS MACBRIDE INVITATION ' HE WISHES YOU TO
SPEND SUMMER AT LOCK WILLOW FARM
SECRETARY TO MR SMITH, BOSTON, MASS.
"I'm Mrs. Semple. Mr. Smith wrote me all about you."
"Incubator chickens are like orphanage children—no mothers nor families—they're just born."
"I come down here every summer to fish. Mrs. Semple was my nurse."
"Won't we have a wonderful—I—I mean won't YOU have a wonderful time?"
Why did Judy put up her hair and lengthen her skirts?
Evidently there is one girl who doesn't bore Jimmie.
"I'm Jimmie McBride—I've dropped in for the summer."
"Hello—what's Foxy Grandpa doing here? I thought he was safe in the Old Men's Home."
"He has a right to be here, Mrs. Semple is his old nurse."
"Maggie Flynn is my old nurse but I don't spend my summers with her."
"Who owns that yaller car over thar?"
"The little fellar with the white beard you run down in Podunk has come to—"
"Bein' the Mayor he wants you to hustle back!"
"Come again, Jimmie, when you can't stay so long."
"My ambition is to write a book so that I can repay Daddy-Long-Legs for ma education."
"I'd like a real home with lots of folks of my own to love me."
"Judy—won't I do?"
"I've always wanted a grandmother—will you BE IT."
"Grandmother—I forgot the difference in our ages."
Good-bye is difficult to say.
"Mrs. Semple, what is love?"
"Love is a bad habit—it's much safer to have the measles—they aint near as painful."
THE TRAGEDY OF LOVE
A NOVEL OF REAL LIFE
The publishers do not appreciate the tragedy of love.
Miss Jerusha Abbott,
Lock Willow Farm,
We regret your novel, "The Tragedy
of love," is not suitable for publication. The
enclosed work shows a sense of humor, but little of
life. We suggest you devote more of your time to
your lessons until you know more about the world.
Very truly yours
Reader - -
JOHN RAYMOND PUBLISHING COMPANY
"I'll go and write another one?"
Then comes the great inspiration.
First National Bank of Boston
BOSTON, MASS. April 30. 19 18
PAY TO THE ORDER OF Miss Jerusha Abbott $ 1000.00
One thousand and no DOLLARS
JOHN RAYMOND POBLISHING CO.
Hurrah! I'm an author at last! The publisher liked my book about orphans. I'm so happy because now I can begin paying you back all the money you have spent on me. And oh — Daddy dear, won't you please come to my graduation?
What's the use of graduation with honors, if you haven't a family to share them with you?
"Are you my Daddy-Long-Legs?"
"Lord no!—I aint nobody's daddy—aint never been married!"
Being a successful author changes Judy's social standing. Even the doors of the Pendleton Home open to her.
"It must be wonderful to have ancestors."
"Miss Abbott, may I present Miss Wyckoff?"
"Ive had the pleasure—thank you."
Angie devoted the evening to making it pleasant (?) for Judy.
"Judy is the first girl whom Uncle Jarvis has ever considered seriously."
"How common to marry an orphan—why, she might turn out to be ANYBODY'S daughter!"
"Judy Abbott is the finest girl I know—and the cleverest one, too!"
"I'm sorry, but the Director's meeting lasted longer than I expected."
"Say, young man, your tail-light's out. You'd better see Judge White in the morning."
"I haven't seen you for a whole year."
"I stayed away because of something I learned."
"Yes——I love you, Judy, and I'll be your grandmother—if I may be your husband, too."
The big moment of Judy's life is robbed of its joy, for her soul is garbed in the hated gingham of the orphanage.
"I can't stand this ancestral morgue another minute! Please, Jimmie, drive me out to Lock-Willow."
Even the weather weeps in sympathy.
"I'm sorry, Jimmie, dear, but I can't marry you—you aren't grown up enough for me."
Where there's no sense there's no feeling.
Jarvis wanders aimlessly for hours, dazed by his unhappiness.
I love somebody even more than you, but I've refused to marry him. He comes from a family all full of ancestors and I haven't the courage to tell him about the John Grier Home.
Judy's waits two weeks for permission—then takes matters into her own hands.
The Home of Daddy-Long-Legs.
"Mr. Smith has been seriously ill, but you may see him for a few minutes."
"Why, Jarvis Pendleton—what are YOU doing here?"
"This is my home."
"Your home? Are you my Daddy-Long-Legs?"
"Yes—are you sorry?"
"You must have read my last letter."
"I wasn't permitted to open my mail until this morning—since then I've read it one thousand, three hundred and two times—you darling!"
"You brute—never speak to me again."
A FIRST NATIONAL