The Missouri Robin HoodJesse James' descendants are in the doldrums. They have seen an advance showing of the new technicolor movie which carries his name, but are offended that it departs so far from the desperado’s actual career.For example, in real life the bandit’s mother survived him by twenty years, but the film ha« her killed by j a railroad agent while Jesse was a: mere stripling. The film shows him getting drunk and quarreling with his men; his relatives say that never happened. And so on, through a long list of demurrersStill, the producers ought not to be blamed too much. They are merely carrying . forward what has been one of the strangest phenomena in American history—the transformation of the nation’s most notorious desperado into a duly certified likeness of an American Robin Hood.Jesse has been lucky. Competent re- j searchers have said tha^ Frank James was the brains and the leader of the gang, but Jesse, because he had a more alliterative name and had the good luck to suffer a sort of martyrdom, has got most of the publicity. When he was shot in the back by a member of his gang seeking the $10,-000 reward offered by Governor Crittenden, public sentiment underwent a reversal. It became highly favorable to Jesse, notwithstanding that, not long before, he had added to the nu- { meroiu notches on his gun by killing one of his men on suspicion of treachery.In the picture, the wavy-haired, lustrous-orbed Tyrone Power plays the I part Of Jctsse, who was in reality a sandy-haired, clabber-faced, steely-eyed homfore. Mr. Power can be depended upon to be as effective in bringing tears to the eyes of the matinee fans as the original Jesse was in causing ooJd chills to run up and down the spines of his victims. Thus the legend of Jesse James, the Robin Hood of the Missouri frontier, will march on—Qt. Louis Post-Dispatch.