Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1916)

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110 Photoplay Magazine river near de edge of de ocean — beautiful green trees, an de only place in dat country dat had a liquor license. One fellow had a sick wife an he asks me to send him a flock of nice trouts for her even if I had to buy dem off a native, an just for dat he let Right den an dere me an de nut director goes tode mat. me take along de sweater his wife gives him for Christmas so I wouldn't catch cold standin under de willow catchin de speckled beauties. Say — I just ate it up ! De whole prop department was standin at de door to see me off. Two minutes after I got back from dat bum joint, dey was all in de rafters. I'm down to de station dat night wid me kiester, de fishin rod, de bathin suit an de sweater, but I'm held up by de trollies and just catch de train as it's pullin out. De assistant director gives me a bawlin out. me ducket an a bid for a shelf, an after I can't find no Pedro game in de smoker. I hits de hay after tellin de dinge to put a nice shine on me shoes. De next mornin when I woke up I tought de car was on fire. Gee ! I was nearly sumcated. I crawls out of de flop an takes a slant out of de smokin room window. Dere ain't no ocean or shady streams in sight — nuttin but a bum depo. a couple of cholos and a lot of flat desert. I takes a peep out of de oder side an it is de same — only more so. Right dere I got a hunch dat dose prop room comedians had hung somethin on me. A hour later I felt like a Christmas tree. I boils off de car an here is our special train on a sidin. Its early yet but de cowboys is up takin some horses out of de baggage cars. As dat wasn't in my department, I went up to watch dem. Hot — holy mackerel ! You could have fried a "ham an' " on de ground. I'm up dere tellin de cow hands de best way to get horses out of a car when up dashes de assistant director like a wild man. "Where's de camel drivers?'' he yells. Right den I knew all was not well. De crazy assistant runs troo de cars until finally one of de extras tells him he had seen de camel driver in a gin mill about five minutes before de train pulled out. I tries to ooze out of de scene — but not a chance. "Pete." he says to me. "Pete, you are to look after de two camels." "Camels ain't props." I says, "and I stick to me profession." "Camels is props." he says, "or you get redlighted right here in de middle of dis oven." "Camels is perishable props." I says. "dey shall have de lovin care of a mudder • — only," I says, "let's shoot dese scenes an get back to Los. Dere is no use stayin out here till we fry." I says. "O. we don't woik here." he says, careless like, "we got to go about twenty miles inland where dere is some real desert. We will be dere about a week." he says.