Motion Picture Classic (Jan-Dec 1916)

MOTION PICTURE BRUTISH FACES LEERED DRUNKENLY AT EACH OTHER, GLASSES WERE CLINKED AND RAISED men. Yes, they were laughing in their sleeves at him, and she was the cause of it. She had robbed him of his perquisite, his just fruits of victory. Devil’s luck! The old witch had killed her brats just to spite him. Very well ! With an oath, he emptied his automatic into the three figures on the floor, firing savagely and indiscriminately until the gun was empty. “Curse her!” he roared. “She made them laugh at me!” He turned, the men in the doorway fell back, and, without another look, he strode after them and slammed the door. The smoke ascended and hung in lacy clouds under the ceiling. A last, flickering ray of sunlight struggled for an instant thru the heavy, violet clouds and fell on the quiet mother-face. The ray of sunlight was no longer blood-red. It was pure gold, and it lingered caressingly on the dead face, glorifying with a more than earthly radiance the smile that rested on the now peaceful countenance. Chapter XXI. The invasion of America was a work of genius. Genius, we are told, is “a capacity for taking infinite pains.” So carefully, so completely had the invaders laid and carried out their plans, so fully were they informed by their far-reaching spy system, that every feeble move on the part of the defenders was anticipated. So suddenly had they struck that the city was in their hands before any organized resistance was possible. The first thought in each New Yorker’s mind was of his home and of those whom it was his duty to protect. The first object of the invaders was to destroy every armory, central station and power-house, and thus telephone, telegraph, subway, elevated, trolley and electric light — every main artery of the city’s life — were paralyzed by the enemy’s shells from without, and thru co-operation with their traitorous confederates within. The militia, the only available force for the defense of New York, was, therefore, rendered well-nigh useless at the outset, and the handful of regulars at Governor’s Island and the forts — not a thousand all told — had been sadly decimated by the terrific bombardment of the enemy fleet. The commander of the Army of the East knew how hopeless it all was. He had seen the handwriting on the wall for years, and now that the time had come, he knew the knell of doom had sounded for his brave little baud, and so, fifteen hours after that first paralyzing crash, which heralded the dread war-monster’s approach and scattered the Brothers of Peace like a lot. of scared rabbits, the ghostly dawn ushered in to the people of America the horror of that never-tobe-forgotten morning after. The streets were empty, silent, yet peopled with the fearsome presence of a thousand murdered innocents; deserted by all save the dead, until the silence was broken by the advance of countless drab figures trampling ruthlessly over the poor, mutilated bodies, pressing unceasingly on thru the horrible shambles, line after line, regiment after regiment — endless divisions of a great army — their perfection of equipment, training and discipline a hideous comparison to the sad spectacle of our unpreparedness. They flowed onward as resistlessly as the current of Niagara, up Fifth Avenue, thru the Bronx, and out into Westchester County, where a handful of Americans, hastily entrenched near (Thirtyfour)