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n8 Life and Lillian Gish parts, or no parts at all, turned their eyes westward. The exodus set in. The word "Hollywood" began to be passed about like some magic bauble, a talisman. Once more, California held out to men and women a lure of gold. The little group of players on Sunset Boulevard hardly knew what to make of the first incursion of "real actors" that swept in upon them. They had two ideas about it: they wondered if they would be able to keep their jobs, and if so, would they learn how to act. They realized, presently, that it made very little difference to them. They did keep their jobs, and they did not learn how to act— not in the stage way. It was the newcomers who had to learn—if they stayed. Most of them did stay—adapted themselves. Producers with new, big undertakings, were all about. Griffith him- self, returning from first showings of the "Birth," began on what promised to be a still more important, more ex- pensive, picture. It started as rather a small venture, with Mae Marsh and Bobby Harron in the leading parts. It was to be called "The Mother and the Law," based upon a famous murder case, wherein an innocent man, through intolerance— man's inhumanity to man—was brought to the foot of the scaffold. Lillian was not to have a part in this new play. For one thing, she was working in another picture—as Annie, in "Enoch Arden"—one of the best of her early films—and in Richard Harding Davis' story of "Captain Macklin." And then, Griffith perhaps did not think it wise to push her forward too fast. But one night, after a day of hard rehearsal, he picked