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FUNNY STORIES THAT ARE TRUE
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Immediately I sized up the situation and grunted, ' ' Yep ! ' ' And the old gentleman went on his way, unconscious that he had very materially aided the realism of the scene. Some day I hope that clergyman sees that picture as a vindication (as they say in melodrama) to do me honor.
At the Rope's End
By FRANCES NE MOYER
Bald Head Cliff, Maine, is exactly what the name implies. It was there I experienced the most thrilling episode of my career as a film artist.
The Lubin Company sent several players to Bald Head Cliff to make "The Smuggler's Daughter." I was cast as the leading lady, and I was supposed to be shot and fall over a cliff — not an imaginary cliff, but a real, rocky one.
A suitable location was selected that would appear dangerous in the finished picture, but where the real peril attending my fall would be reduced to the minimum of risk every player takes almost every day.
The work progressed satisfactorily to the director and players alike, till this particular scene. Two men, who had been previously directed to position themselves behind and below the cliff and catch me as I rolled down the side, obstructed from the camera's lens, awaited the shot which would announce my coming.
The word was given ; a rifle popped. I dropped and rolled over the cliff, screaming, as my companions supposed, with imaginary pain. But it was fear — real, every ounce of it — I had eluded those two men, and my body shot down into space, gaining momentum every second.
Altho frightened almost beyond reason, because I realized what my fate would be at the base of the cliff, I snatched and grabbed at every object in sight. A small, scrub bush, protruding from between the rocks, brushed my hand. Instantly my fingers closed on it. I clung desperately to it
FRANCES NE MOYER
and shouted for assistance, as my body swung over that dangerous chasm.
My piercing cries brought the director and the entire company to the spot where I had disappeared. The two men were frantic with excitement, believing I had been dashed upon the rocks below.
I had ceased my cries, because I understood I must preserve every ounce of strength if I would cling to my frail support till assistance arrived.
A shower of dirt and loose stones made me close my eyes; but when I opened them again, I was delighted to see the earnest face of the director gazing down upon me.
"Hold tight!" he shouted, and he drew his head back over the edge.
My position there in mid-air made it very difficult for any one to reach me. It was utterly impossible for a man to climb down that cliff; it was almost perpendicular — a blank wall.