“Get a move on!” . . . “Earn your salary!”
. . . “Give us moosick!”
The pianist paused to thumb his nose casually at the entire audience, and then amid shouts and hisses sat down at the piano and began to play “Love Nest.”
Immediately the boys began to whistle, and as the comedy was utterly stupid, they relieved their boredom by whistling the various tunes that the pianist played until the miserable film flickered out.
Then the “feature” and the fun began. During the stretches of pure narrative, the boys whistled, but when there was any real action they talked. The picture was a melodrama of “love and hate’” as the advertisement said.
The boys told the actors what to do; they re¬ vealed to them the secrets of the ‘plot. “She’s hiding behind the door, Harold. No, no! Not that way. Hey, dumbbell—behind the door.” . . . “Catch him, Gloria; he’s only shy!” . . . “No, that’s not him!”
The climactic fight brought shouts of encouragment—to the villain. “Kill him!” . . . “Shoot one to his kidneys!” . . . “Ahhhhh,” as the vil¬ lain hit the hero in the stomach. . . . “Muss his hair. Attaboy!” . . . “Kill the skunk!” And fi¬ nally groans of despair when the hero won his in¬ evitable victory.
But it was the love scenes that aroused the great-*
