Picture Play Magazine (Oct-Nov 1915)

The Mummy and the Humming Bird (FAMOUS PLAYERS) By Richard D. Taylor D'Orelli was a novelist, but only incidentally. His real profession was stealing the wives of other men. When D'Orelli went to Italy and took from there the sweet, loving wife of Giuseppe, he worked his own ruin, for the true, faithful Italian was not one to forget. Instead, he went to England and sought the scoundrel who hid his real self behind the elegant words of his easy-flowing pen. What Giuseppe did there, and how his search for D'Orelli and revenge materialized, make this story, based on the photo drama of the same name released by the Famous Players Film Company. Those in the cast are: Giuseppe William Sovelle Lord Lumley ! Charles Cherry Lady Lumley Lillian Tucher D'Orelli Arthur Hoops /^\H, this heat will burn up the world, my friend," said Giuseppe, as he paused on his way home about eight in the evening to exchange a word with Anselmo, the shoemaker. Anselmo, fifty, fat, and ordinarily the most smiling of men, looked with a furtive, anxious glance down the side street in which Giuseppe lived with his pretty wife Maria. "Then, that will be the end," said Anselmo. "What if it burns up the world — this awful heat?" returned Giuseppe. He mopped his face with his huge bandanna. "Don't be afraid, Anselmo." he continued cheerfully. "You are always good-natured and gay. But you are very religious, too. The end of the world — does it affright you?" "No. When it comes to us all together at once," replied Anselmo mysteriously. Again he looked down the street toward the house where Giuseppe and Maria lived. "Dio mio — but the heat has touched your head, I fear," exclaimed Giuseppe, resuming his way. "But it's only for to-night. To-morrow night you will be my old Anselmo, cheery and pleasant, with a word of compliment to me for my pretty wife before I go to her at home there, better and sweeter than any word of man or woman — even yours, dear old Cousin Anselmo." Giuseppe, tired, but sturdy of frame, lumbered down the street to his house. Anselmo began to say his rosary, with his hand on the beads in the pocket of his big apron. Tears, not perspiration, began to trickle down his face. His eyes stealthily followed Giuseppe as the latter neared No. 5 in the narrow, crooked street of tenements. He saw that people quietly stole into the doorways of the various houses as Giuseppe made his way along. When Giuseppe turned in at No. 5, Anselmo could neither pray nor stand at the corner any more. He stepped back into his shop and sat at his worktable, making believe to himself that he was working. But he was only fumbling the hammer and nails as he attempted to sole a shoe. With each aimless stroke of the hammer, his heart beat more wildly. Presently his arms fell limp at his side. The shoe, the hammer, the iron last were in a mixed heap at his feet. A madman, who had been a few moments before the simple, handsome, honest Giuseppe was trembling in rage over the threshold of Anselmo's shop, shrieking : "My Maria — my Maria ! She runs away with that devil they call the Humming Bird because of his fine looks and clothes. My Maria — do you hear me? She would not do it. He bewitched her — he will kill her. And I shall " "No, no ; in God's name, no !" pleaded Anselmo, and stepped forward to catch Giuseppe as he fell, shivering, for all the heat, in a fit of rage and anguish. All that night, and for many nights, under the care of the physician of the neighborhood, Giuseppe stayed at Anselmo's rooms behind the shop. Tn his delirium he taked incessantly of Maria and the Humming Bird. "He will kill her!" he said over and over again. Whenever they sought to bring him back to consciousness, and felt that they were succeeding, it was only to hear him say: "And I shall kill him!" With that, he would drift back into a kind of stupor, his hands clenched. But there came a day when Giuseppe surprised Anselmo and the friends he brought about him for cheer and fellowship in the little cobbler shop. The talk was only of Giuseppe getting better again and being at his job. In his convalescence from the attack of brain fever, Giuseppe chatted and laughed with the best of them. He was himself again, they firmly believed. The tragedy of the past was never mentioned before him. They marveled at his recovery. He wanted to get back to work the first time he felt sure on his legs. Anselmo said "no" to the idea. "Giuseppe," the old shoemaker explained, "have a holiday now. You need it. The hotel where you are employed does not need you. You have as much room as I have here. Besides, I have sold your things down there in the street and put the money in the bank for you — I was obliged to do that because your rooms were to be let. Here's the bank paper saying you have one hundred and fifty dollars, all yours." "How much did you get, Anselmo — you who act like a father to me — for the things?" "Twenty-two dollars and twenty cents," the shoemaker answered. "That,