If I had a ribbon bow to bind my hair, If I had a fancy sash, my own true love would think me fair . . .
Patrons of the Blue Angel nightclub, accustomed to hearing these lines sung with folk-song innocence, were wondering last week whether they ever did understand the old song. They were concentrating on Eartha Kitt, a Negro newcomer to Manhattan night life. Eartha launched into the song with a voice of husky sweetness, but before she had gone very far she was wailing out the lyrics in a first-class imitation of jungle cat.
A lithe figure in skin-tight...
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