The Moving Picture Girls Under the Palms Or Lost in the Wilds of Florida

Excerpt

OVERBOARD

"All ready now! In position, everyone!"

Half a score of actors and actresses moved quickly to their appointed places, while overhead, and at the sides of them hissed powerful electric lights, and in front of them stood a moving picture camera, ready to be operated by a pleasant-faced young man.

"Ready?" came in questioning tones from Mr. Pertell, the stage director, as he looked sharply from one to the other.

A tall, well-built man, with iron-gray hair, nodded, but did not speak.

"Let her go, Russ!" Mr. Pertell exclaimed.

"Vait! Vait a minute!" called one of the actors, with a pronounced German accent.

"Well, what's the matter now, Mr. Switzer?" asked the director, with a touch of impatience.

"I haf forgotten der imbortant babers dot I haf to offer mine enemy in dis play. I must have der babers."

"Gracious, I should say so!" said the manager. "Where's Pop Snooks?" and he looked around for the property man, who had to produce on short notice anything from a ten-ton safe to a hairpin.

"Hi, Pop!" called Mr. Pertell. "Make up a bundle of important, legal-looking papers, with seals on. Mr. Switzer has to use 'em in this play. I forgot to tell you."

"Have 'em for you right away!" cried the property man, and a little later Mr. Switzer had his "babers."

"I guess we're all right now. Start up, Russ," ordered the stage director, who was also the manager of the troupe.

"That was a mistake on the part of Mr. Pertell; wasn't it, Ruth?" asked one of the young actresses—a pretty girl—of her sister, who stood near her in the mimic scene.

"Yes, indeed, Alice. But it isn't often he makes one."

"No, indeed. Oh, we mustn't talk any more. I see him looking at us."

"Begin!" called the manager, sharply, and the play proceeded, while the young moving picture operator clicked away at the handle of his camera, the long strip of film moving behind the lens with a whirring sound, and registering views of the pantomime of the actors and actresses at the rate of sixteen a second.

The above was done several times a day in the New York studio of the Comet Film Company, which was engaged in making moving pictures.

The play went on through the various acts. Only part of it was being "filmed" now—the interior scenes. Later, others would be taken outdoors.

"Time out—hold your positions!" suddenly exclaimed the operator. "Film's broken. I've got to mend it."

Everyone came to a standstill at that. In a few seconds the damage was repaired, and the play went on. It was, in the main, a "parlor" drama, and there were to be only a few outdoor scenes.

"That will do for the present," said Mr. Pertell. "You may all take a rest now. This will be our last New York play for some time—that is, after we get the outdoor scenes for this."

"Where are we going next?" asked the elderly actor before mentioned. He spoke in very hoarse voice, and it was evident that he had some throat affection. In fact, it was the ailment which had forced him to give up acting in the "legitimate," and take to the "movies."

"We are going to Florida—the land of the palms!" announced the manager....