The girls who do this kind of work usually aren't as pretty as the babes who pose for cameras. Facial beauty is not a requisite, although a figure is supposed to be perfect in proportions, to fit commercial dimensions. Many who work in the wholesale market are friendly and it is considered a regular part of their paid work to "entertain" the big buyer from Burlington. Many models--photographers' models, that is--go into show business as chorus girls and, conversely, many chorines double as models. Many of these have the most amazing experiences, and whenever tales like the one about redheaded Joanne Marshall are told, another thousand half-baked pigeons run away from their homes and hotfoot it to New York: Joanne Marshall, whose real name was Joan Lacock, was born in Wheeling, W. Va., in the summer of 1922. Her father ran a drugstore. She grew up, the average small-town girl, but shapely, lovely and with the most luminous eyes. After her father's death, which left the family--her mother and her young brother--about destitute, she and Mrs. Lacock came to New York. Joanne was so entrancingly beautiful, she had little trouble catching on as a model, and quickly earned $75 to $100 a week. She was then about 18. Some of the other Powers exhibits told her about the offer they had to become show girls in the new revue being prepared to star Al Jolson. It would be loads of fun. Joanne joined the show, too. It opened in Chicago in the summer of 1940, then made its Gotham debut that fall. Joanne was crazy about it. Until then, she knew no serious romances. Her male companions were young men without serious intentions; youths like Gar Wood, Jr., and George Church, a young dancer in the show, and George Miller, an equally young chorus boy. One day the great man who starred in the show, the fabulous Jolson, tiffed with Jinx Falkenberg, then a featured show gal in the production, since then a film starlet and "breakfast broadcaster." Jinx had often gone out with Al after his break-up with Ruby Keeler. Jolson turned away, suddenly noticed the 18-year-old child who had been dancing, unseen by him, in his own chorus. He took the gal to dinner, flattered her beyond anything she had heard in West Virginia or from youthful New Yorkers. He swept her practically off her feet. We say "practically," advisedly. For, though she gave the air to all the boys, much to their anguish and unflattering cracks about the age of her new friend, she resisted Jolson's importuning to marry her. Yet she was seen with him nightly, shared his favorite corner table at the Stork Club after every show, took him home to meet her family, did not deny published reports that this was the real thing. The wise Willies said, "See what happens when an old guy with fame and dough comes along? He gets the rail post." So they thought. They didn't even know about a good-looking young fellow who sang with a band.