Do you 'spect that was _real_ water, Nan Sherwood? He'd ha' been
drowned, wouldn't he?"
"I guess it was real water," laughed Nan. "But they wouldn't let him be
drowned in a picture."
"I forget it's a picture," sighed little Inez, exhibiting thereby true
dramatic feeling for the art of acting. To her small mind the pantomime
seemed real.
Another reel was started. The projection of it flickered on the screen
until it dazzled one's eyes to try to watch it.
"Goodness!" gasped Pearl Graves. "I hope that won't keep up."
The excited little Hebrew who owned the theatre ran, sputtering, up the
aisle, and climbed into the gallery to expostulate with the operator.
There was an explosion of angry voices from the operator's box when the
proprietor reached it.
The reel was halted again--this time without the projection of the usual
"Wait a minute, please," card. The next instant there was another
explosion; but not of voices.
A glare of greenish flame was projected from the box in the gallery where
the machine was located--then followed a series of crackling, snapping
explosions!
It was indeed startling, and there were a general craning of necks and
excited whispering in the audience; but it might have gone no further had
it not been for Linda Riggs.
Pages:
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211