Yet, there’s a light that never goes out on The Harrow and the Harvest. “Difficult circumstances,” she demands the tune of a similar name, “ain’t going to control my brain.”
“Stout” is the word which an analyst for this daily paper used to depict Frank Yerby’s “The Foxes of Harrow” in its unique novel shape. The man of his word was in effect most affableif the film is even a sorry excuse for the book. For, in spite of the fact that this orotund picture, which went to the Roxy yesterday, is clearly ailing in a few of the paunchier areas of the book, despite everything it shows over-stuffing with the fattiest sentimental prosaisms.