The man who had left the door open closed it and then, dropping into a seat, buried his face in his hands and began to weep. The big man looked somewhat uncomfortable and, rising finally walked up to the weeper and tapped him on the shoulder. “My friend,” he said, “I didn’t intend to hurt your feelings. I just wanted you to close the door.” The man who was weeping raised his head and grinned. “Old man,” he said, “I am not crying because you hurt my feelings, but because you asked me if I was raised in a barn. The fact is that I was raised in a barn, and every time I hear an ass bray it makes me homesick.” * * * * * ‘Throw Out the Life Line’ “How did you like the banquet last night?” “Fine. There was a lady at the table across from me who had one of those ‘table line gowns’ on. She looked like Venus.” “How do you know she had on a gown, then?” “I dropped my fork.” _Whiz Bang Editorials_ “_The Bull is Mightier Than the Bullet._” There are many “Calamity Janes” in the U. S. A. One of their stock cries, just after a crime has been committed is, “If she gets off, she’s going in the movies!” Let us look at the real facts. Searching the history of the moving picture business, in not a single instance has a murder been starred in pictures. About seven or eight years ago a wealthy married man in Virginia was shot by his wife (or was it by a girl in the case?)—Beulah Binford—because he had trifled with her affections. The courts proved the man a rotter, and because Beulah was a very young girl, she was released without a prison sentence. Beulah’s heart and life were broken and she wanted to bury herself in her little home town and try to start over again, but she needed money. An unscrupulous promoter from New York who thought he could profit by the notoriety caused by the crime, made her an offer to be starred in pictures. Beulah went to New York. The picture was taken but the police closed Madison Square Garden when it was scheduled to show there. Even in those early days of picturedom, movie companies of any standing were bitterly incensed against promoters who wanted to make money by exploiting crime. The tragic figure in this case was Beulah Binford herself. When the picture failed to bring in receipts she was left alone and penniless in a strange city. She went from studio to studio asking for work, but despite the fact that she was beautiful, no one wanted to take a chance with her. Finally the Republic Film Company, of New York, gave her a job sorting papers in their office. She went through countless hardships in the city. What has become of her, we do not know.