Moving Picture World (July-Dec 1909)

THE MOVING PICTURE WORLD L 887 The photo arrives and he starts for home. Of course, you may imagine the reception, but when he shows himself possessed of her photo, Bessie pleads for forgiveness for having doubted him. Another victory for Harry. BIOGRAPH COMPANY. A CORNER IN WHEAT.— No subject has ever been produced more timely than this powerful story of the wheat gambler, coming as it does when agitation is rife against that terrible practice of cornering commodities that are the necessities of life. Laws are being framed with a view of suppressing such nefarious transactions, and no more convincing argument could be shown than that set forth in this picture. Every phase of the question is illumined, beginning with an animated reproduction of Jean Francois Millet's masterpiece, "The Sowers." From the barn they start and with the grain sack hung from their shoulders, the two bent and knotted forms are seen trudging wearily over the plowed ground, their arms swinging in perfect chronometry with a slight gush of wheat grain pouring forth at each advance of the arm. In this scene we find the genesis of one of tjie mammoth industries of the earth. The foundation of life, for it is the foundation of the bread of life. How little do those poor honest souls realize the turmoil the fruit of their labors will incur. What a contrast is shown in the oflice of the Wheat King, surrounded by his lieutenants, waiting for the word as he engineers the great corner whereby he will obtain absolute control of the entire produce, not only of the present, but the future toiling of the poor sowers. Into the wheat pit on the " 'Change" we go, and there find a struggling mob of brokers with their all slowly but surely melting under the blast of the King's determination. At length the battle is won, and the Wheat King stands majestically amid the debris of wrecked fortunes. Here is the gold of the wheat. He is lauded for his acumen, wined and dined and regarded as a man among men, little thinking of the misery and suffering his so-called genius has induced. Ah ! that is the chaff of the wheat. The baker is obliged to pay twice as much as formerly for his flour and so must charge twice as much for the loaf. Consequently, many a poor eoul must go hungry. Furthermore, the bread fund for the poor is cut down, and many a shivering wretch stands in the line only to be denied bread when his turn comes. There is no vengeance possible here but the hand of God, and God's vengeance when wreaked is terrible and unconditional, and one of the sins that cries to heaven for vengeance is denying food to the hungry. This cry is heard, and as the King is showing his friends through the elevators into the bins of which are flowing the steady stream of his golden grain, he trips and falls into one of the bins and is buried. He has been called before his God to answer. Our thoughts are carried back to the bent and knotted forms of the sowers trudging along, ignorant of the venegance of the wheat. IN A HEMPEN BAG. — Here is one occasion in which the letting of the "cat out of the bag" almost resulted in an awful calamity. The house cat has become such a nuisance that the mistress decides It shall be drowned. To this end she secures a bag, ties the feline pest in it and dispatches the maid for the old deaf gardener to take it to the river and throw it in. Meanwhile, the mistress has discovered the nurse drunk, and discharges her. The children, finding their pet tied up in the bag, let it out and carry it away to hide. The nurse, perturbed at her dismissal, to get even conceives the idea to hide the baby, and seeing the empty bag, being ignorant of its destination, puts the infant in it and ties it up. The deaf gardener enters and carries the bag off, making his way to the river. On the way he meets a couple of boys with a rifle, who upon learning the contents of the bag, beg the old man to let them have a shot at it. To this he consents, but the gun jams and won't work, so the man proceeds on his way. At the house there Is a panic in the endeavor to find baby until the presence of the cat tells them the impending danger. By this time the bag is brought to the river, but the boys run up just as the old man is about to throw it over. They have adjusted the rifle and beg for another chance. The old man tells them he will open the bag and they may shoot as the captive jumps out. You may imagine their surprise when instead of a cat they find a baby, just as the distracted, terror-stricken mother rushes up. THE TEST. — In this subject the Biograph presents another episode in the Wright family. Harry gets in bad for a time, but he wriggles out like a trout off a hook and comes up with that perennial grin or "the smile that won't come off." Harry is starting on a business trip and Bessie is sad, but he makes the big promise, showing her a photo of herself in his bill case, which shall ever be before him. As he turns to fasten his grip, wifey extracts the photo, handing him the closed case, with the expression, "We shall see." Putting the case in his pocket, he departs. Next we find him at the hotel of another town, enjoying, with convivial society, a little game of draw. Ah, hn must not forget a letter to wifey. He tells her how lonesome he feels, that her picture is now before him. When Bessie reads this, she storms. "What a fib. I thought so." She writes him of the trap she set, and when he looks at the case now for the first time, he is flabbergasted. "Now I'm in for it. Ah, an idea." He telegraphs to his mother to send blm at once the photo she has of Bessie. EDISON MFG. CO. FENTON OF THE 42D.— Capt. Fenton, of the "42d," and his men are detailed to patrol the Mexican border on the lookout for smugglers. The ranch on which they have camped is owned by as ugly-looking a Mexican as ever smoked a cigarette and drank mescal, and presided over by his sister, who is as pretty as he is repulsive. At the request of the sister, Capt. Fenton makes his headquarters at the ranch house and gains the hatered of the Mexican lover by promptly falling in love with her. While on a night ride through the country Fenton is shot by the jealous suitor, is nursed back to health by the beautiful sister, and while convalescing declares his love, which she reciprocates. Shortly after two smugglers are seen sneaking through the lines. One is shot in attempting to escape, and the other captured after a long chase. The captured smuggler is brought to Fenton as he is enjoying a tete-a-tete with his lady love, and proves to be her brother. Fenton's struggle between love and duty is graphically shown when the girl, on bended knee, pleads for her brother's freedom. Duty to his country conquering, his sweetheart denounces him and sends him away. That night she rescues her brother from the soldiers under Fenton. They take refuge in the hut of a friend, and when surrounded fight until their friend is killed and the brother mortally wounded. The defense of the hut is one of the most thrillingly dramatic scenes ever witnessed, the girl aiding the besieged men by loading their guns and revolvers and supporting them when, weak from loss of blood, they are on the point of collapse. The acting at this point is so terribly real that the spectator will forget that he Is gazing at a theatrical production instead of an actual struggle for life, and his sympathy for the girl who is battling for her brother's life will know no bounds. The picture ends as all good pictures, plays and books should end — happily, with the reunited lovers in each other's arms. THE NEW POLICEMAN. — A new policeman, anxious to follow instructions literally, is given his book of printed rules. One of these is that he must report any occurrences out of the ordinary. On his first night's beat he comes across a dead dog at the corner of two streets. He promptly takes out l*is notebook in order to jot down the occurrence, but to his dismay finds that one of the. street names is so long and vague that he cannot write it. He scratches his head in perplexity, but the situation is relieved when another policeman comes along and suggests moving the dead dog to the corner of two streets with short and simple names. This is promptly put down in the notebook and our new patrolman is happy. A GIFT FROM SANTA CLATJS.— This picture is proof positive that there is such a person as Santa Claus, that he does come down the chimney, and that he does know the things that children want. The picture is not only timely and full of the Christmas feeling, but in itself and quite aside from the Christmas spirit it is an interesting story for the grown-ups as well as the children. It belongs to the order of "The Little Lord Fauntleroy," which fascinated the parents of a few years ago, and is full of the very genuine heart interest that should belong to everything concerning child-life. It begins with the departure of Captain Lovell, a young officer of the Merchant Marine, and his farewell to his little motherless daughter, whom he leaves at a select school for girls, presided over by a lady whose business instinct is stronger than her sympathies. Captain Lovell's ship goes on the rocks, and in the next scene we see the school mistress reading the account of the wreck in the paper, and in anything but a kindly way breaking the news to the Captain's little daughter, Eloise. Eloise now has no one to provide for her, and at the end of the month she is forced to give up her pretty room at the school and become a little drudge, scrubbing the steps, sweeping the floors and sleeping in the bare attic room at the top of the house. Here we see her finding some consolation in her love of books and entertaining her one friend, the poor little, half-starved work-child of the kitchen, by reading aloud to her. Even this taste of comfort is denied her by the heartless school mistress. In the midst of her troubles the Christmas season arrives, and the scene shifts to Santa Claus's house, way up by the North Pole. We see the jolly old fellow looking out over the world and arranging his gifts to provide for the wants of those children of the various lands that he views through his wonderful spyglass. Eloise sends him a note, and although the other girls have not been good to her since her father's death and the consequent loss of her own good clothes and position, she forgives them and remembers them all in her letter to Santa Claus, which concludes with a wish that he will not send her any presents except — "just someone to love her." The receipt of this note makes Santa Claus thoughtful for a minute, and then with him we look through his spyglass and we see what he sees. On a deserted Island far away on the other side of the world we see a man signalling a ship, which answers his signal, and the man looks remarkably like Elolse's father. Then, when Christmas Eve arrives, we see Santa Claus come down the chimney into her attic room and transform its barrenness into a bower of beauty, and we see Captain Lovell landing safe and sound in America again. Then Eloise wakes up and Santa Claus promptly vanishes, as of course he must, according to all traditions. We see her delight at the changed aspect of her room and sympathize with the thought, so plainly indicated, that all this beauty needs but one other gift — her father. Next we see what Eloise does not, that he is almost at the door while the wish Is expressed, and so we can laugh through our tears when she looks up to find him with outstretched arms waiting to clasp her to his heart again. ESSANAY FILM MFG. CO. AN AMATEUR HOLD-UP.— Jonesville reads its morning paper one day and finds that a crime wave has come to town. During the preceding night the residences of two or three leading citizens have been burglarized, two or three midnight pedestrians have been sandbagged, and "the police are powerless." Mrs. Brown warns her husband to take the better lighted streets when he comes home at night. He laughs and says he can take care of himself. Brown prepares after dinner to attend a meeting of the Municipal Protection League, and gives Mrs. Brown a vest to mend. Mrs. Brown removes her husband's watch and money from his vest and returns the garment without telling him of having removed his valuables. Brown, after being cautioned by his wife to look sharp, starts out for the meeting. While on the way he collides with a drunken man, who brushes close to him and has difficutly in separating himself from Brown. The man swears at Brown and ambles on, while Brown looks after him with disgust. Brown stops into a cigar store and there makes the discovery of having lost his watch and purse. He concludes that the intoxicated one must have got them and hurries out in an endeavor to overtake the thief. At the point of a pistol Brown demands the return of his valuables, and the drunk, believing that he is being held up, delivers his own watch and purse to Brown. Brown hurries back to the cigar store and boasts of his heroism, when the victim, accompanied by 1wo policemen, enters the place and points out Brown as the guilty party. Brown is dragged to the police station and Is dumbfounded when he learns that the man he robbed was entirely innocent of having removed his own watch and money. He is liberated from his most unenviable position when Mrs. Brown appears and explains that it was she who removed her husband's roll and timepiece. Brown is released, after being heavily fined by the judge for carrying concealed weapons, promising to observe more caution in his future dealings with supposed hold-up men." A FEMALE REPORTER. — The managing editor of "The Daily Knocker" gets an idea — and one of a deep rich typhoid hue. In this idea he proposes to quite out-raffle the "mysterious Mr. Raffles" scheme, and at the same time to get another knock at the alleged indolent city police. Summoning Miss Flip, the society reporter, he makes the following proposition: At midnight that night she is to forcibly enter a city residence (this to prove that the Knoxville police are not on the job) and to carry off as much silver as she can, providing, of course, she isn't caught, and to write a glowing description of her adventure for the next morning's paper. Miss Flip, after a little hesitancy, agrees to try, and midnight, equipped with mask, dark-lantern and the latest things in burglars' tools, finds her outside a fashionable residence, just a little frightened and more inclined to run away than to burgle. However, she plucks up courage, and with difficulty climbs up a trellis to the window balcony, lifts the window sash and crawls in — when the first accident occurs. Her foot collides with something and a handsome jardiniere, holding a large fern, falls from its stand with a crash on the floor. With heart beating fast, she listens breathlessly and finally assures herself that the racket has not awakened the sleeping ones. She stumbles around the dark room and upsets a chair. The clamor it makes jars on her nerves like a blast of dynamite. She is about to retreat to the window when she hears footsteps on the stair in the hall outside. There is no time for escape by the window now, so she dodges behind a convenient screen and tremblingly awaits developments. John Saunders, whose house she has entered, comes into the room, a pistol held at a convenient angle and his eyes sharply seeking the intruder. He sees the screen wobbling a little and commands the thief to stand from behind it. The girl, trembling and in tears, gives up the job as a bad one and steps from behind her shelter. Saunders is agreeably surprised when he finds instead of a grim-visaged male, a most attractive, but thoroughly frightened young woman. He roars at the joke, when she tries to persuade him that she is not really a thief but that the insane editor of the "Knocker" had given her the assignment. Then he turns to the 'phone and deliberately calls the police. Before the police arrive, however, Miss Flip cleverly contrives to get Saunders' pistol, and at the point of it holds him at bay until the arrival of the two patrolmen. "There's your man," she says; "take him away."