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My Picture Girl There’s a girl who stays in the Golden West That I never shall see or know; She’s the Picture Girl that I like the best— But I never shall tell her so. She has wistful eyes that shine like stars, And hair like velvet night, And I might as well wish for the Moon, or Mars, But I love her, that’s honor bright. For she’s always thinking of me, you see, In her far away, sunny land, Thinking and planning, just to please me; And working to beat the band. But never for her the applauding throng That backs the footlights’ glare, Her only “lime” is the noonday sun— No paint or powder there! She can ride her horse like a cattleman, She can handle a rope or gun, And my heart beats now in a rat-a-plan When I think of the risks she’s run. I have seen her leap from an engine cab And roll in the sand below, Risking her life for one thrill’s quick stab To the people who watch the show. But you needn’t think that a cowgirl’s part Is all my film girl knows (She can swing her train with a grande dame’s art, And her love is as sweet as a rose), But the best of it is that she’s always near, No matter how far I go; She never has guessed that I hold her dear— And I never shall tell her so. john sumner, Motion Picture Story Magazine (June 1912), 112 ...

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