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Ooo! Helen Kane is just turrible glad to be cooing and singing in the Talkies!

The famous Helen Kane Pout. This sort of maneuver can turn a strong silent man into a bowl of mush.

Helen Kane, the baby girl founded the "Poo-poo-poo-doo" school of spicy songs that sound sweet the way she sings them. Now, isn't this a pitty 'ittle pitcher?

Won't you pu-lease come in and sit down? Aw gee, it's nice of you. 

And pu-lease don't say I'm a stylish stout like 'ey said in New York.  Aw gee, I'm on 'e eighteen day diet.

It isn't done with mirrors. It's right there before you.  Helen

Kane on or off is Helen Kane.  With that baby talk voice and that baby stare and those baby hands. Yessir, that's Miss Kane. Aw, gee, bu-lieve me. That's just the way she is.  If Helen Kane had chatted on in a low, cultured tone about the future of the art of talking pictures if the dopiest little dumb Dora who ever crooned a blue ditty had a grandlady with a withering glance.

I'd believe Doug Fairbanks uses a double. And Jack Gilbert isn't crazy aboutr Ina Claire. And Tom Mix was born in London. Honest, I would. Aw, gee! "Init silly?" Helen Kane (Aw, gee, she's the only person in the wurruld can do it and get away with it.)   I've heard girls talk 'iss baby talk and it sounds turribly silly. I guess I don't mind it in me becus' it's just me.  It's natural. Why, I always talked 'iss way.  

Baby talk. I can't help it. I cann't help it the teenciest weenciest 'ittle bit.  

But I don't sing baby songs. Aw, gee no.  Why I sing sophisticated songs.   And say sophisticated things.  But I can get away with it becus' _ well, becus this talk it's natural.  

In case you never, never heard Helen Kane on the phono-graph or on the radio or in person and in case you were one of those turribly unlucky persons who didn't see "Nothing But the Truth" let me explain. 

Aw, gee, I gotta explain.  Honest I have.

She'd been doing everything in show business.  Vaudeville and cbarets and bits in musical comedies and things. And all the time she'd been talking baby talk and making those great big goo-goo eyes.  But it didn't seem to get her anywhere.

Aw, gee.  And then she got a job singing in the prologues at the Paramount Theater.  Most everybody accepts prologues as a necessary evil.  A short prologue is just a little bit worse than no prologue at all.

But people listened when Helen Kane sand.  Could that gal be-dut?  I'll say she could.  And those bored sophisticates who had kept looking at their watches to see when the prologue would be over and the picture begin, threw their watches right out in the aisles and didn't give a hang how mch tempus insisted upon fugiting.

Soembody saw and heard Helen Kane besides Mr and Mrs Public. 

Arthur Hammerstien saw her and gave her a big part in one of his swellest musical comedies.  And the smartest night club hostesses saw her and craved her baby ways.

And Paramount officials saw her and she just had to play that grand comedy role in Richard Dix's Nothing But the Truth and walk away with all the feminine honors of the picture. And all the time she kept on making the house-slipper brigade glad just plain glad they were.

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