Pictures and the Picturegoer (Jan-Dec 1925)

MARCH 1925 Pictures and Pictvirepuer \7 watching The Hazards of H or tense, he must still unreasonably serve late customers until the second unwinding of those delectable reels. He suddenly sickened of it all. Was he not sufficiently versed in the art he had chosen to practise? And old Gash wiler every day getting harder to bear ! His resolve stiffened He would not wait much longer — only until the savings hidden under the grocery counter had grown a bit. He made ready tor bed. taking, after he had undressed, some dumb-bell exercises that would make his shoulders a triHe more like Harold Parmalee's. This rite concluded, be knelt by his narrow cot and prayed briefly. "Oh, God, make me a good movie actor ! Make me one of the best ' For Jesus' sake, amen!" CHAPTER III. Saturday proved all that his black forebodings had pictured it — a day of sordid, harassing toil ; toil, moreover, for which Gashwiler, the beneficiary, showed but the scantiest appreciation. Indeed the ^ day opened with a jt»§'. disagreement between the forwardlooking clerk and his hidebound re i actionary. Gash ^^ ^ M wiler had reached ' the store at his accustomed hoflr — ^ of 8.30 to find Merton embellishing the / } l&) V excuse to nag, and criticised this "Why don't > v » n s.iv ' .1 yard,' a an, 'a pound'?" he demanded li.ir-.tily " What's the sense ol tli.il then ' tin ' Mud ' Looks to me like just putting on a ieu airs You keep to pi. on language .ind our patrons')] like il ■ lot bettei " \ ieiouslx Merton Gill rubbed out the modern " the " and Substituted the desired " a "Very well," he assented, "il you'd rather stick to tin old-fashioned wa> . but 1 can tell yon that's the way city Motes do it. I thought you might want to be up-to-date, but I see I made a great mistake " " Humph!" said Gashwiler, unbitten by this irony. " 1 guess the old way's good enough, long's our prices are always right Don't forget to put on that canned salmon. 1 had that in stoek tor nearly a year now and say it's twentj Cents 'a' can, not 'the' can. Also say it's a grand reduction from thirty-five cents ." That was always the way. You never could please the old grouch, And so began the labour that lasted until nine that night. Merton must count out eggs and weigh butter that was brought in. He must do up sugar and grind coffee and measure dress goods and match silks; he must with the suavest gentility ask if there would not be something else to-day; and he must see that babies left hazardously left on counters did not roll off. He lived in a vortex of mental confusion, performing his tasks mechanically. When drawing a gallon of kerosene or refolding the shown dress goods, or at any task not requiring him to be genially talkative, he would be saying to Miss Augusta Blivens in far-off Hollywood, "Yes, my wife is more than a wife. She is my best pal, and, I may also add, my severest critic " i '•* Mertdn Gill was entranced by the new Scree bulletin board in front with legends setting forth especial bargains of the day to be had within. Chalk in hand, he had neatly written. "See our new importation of taffetas, $2.59 the yard." Below this he was in the act of putting down, " Try our choice Honey-dew spinach, 20 cts. the can." " Try our Preferred Chipped Beef, 58 cts. the pound." He was especially liking that use of " the." It sounded modern. Yet along came Gashwiler, as if seeking an early photographs of his heroine in " Silver nings." There was but one break in the dreary monotony, and that was when Lowell Hardy, Simsbury's highly artistic photographer, came in to leave an order for groceries. Lowell wore a soft hat with rakish brim, and affected low collars and flowing cravats, the artistic effect of these being heightened in his studio work by a purple velvet jacket. Even in Gashwiler's he stood out as an artist. Merton received his order, and noting that Gashwiler was beyond ear-shot bespoke his ■ I tin following aft< n " Say, Low< II, be on tin lot at two sharp to-morrow, will you? I want to shoot si, me Western inn some stills." Merton thrilled as he used these hi] technical phrases. H< bad not read Ins tines foi nothing Lowell I lank considered, th< n ■ sented He believed that he, too, might s"ine da) be called to Hollywood they bad SCCII the |OTl of WOrk hi I oiild turn OUL He always finished his art studies pi Merton with gr< and took pains to hive the artist's signature entirely legible " All right, Mert, I'll be there I got some new patent paper I'll try out on these." " ( in the lot at two sharp to shoot Western stuff," repeated Merton with relish "Right-o!" assented Lowell, and returned to more prosaic studio art The day wore itself to a glad end. The last exigent customer bad gone, the curtains wire up, the lights were out, and at five minutes past nine the released slave, meeting Tessie Kcarns at her front door, escorted her with a high heart to the second show at the Bijou Palace "They debated staying on until after the w retched comedy had been run, but later agreed that they should see this, as Tessie keenly wished to know why p. laughed at such things. The antics of the painfully cross-eyed man distressed them both, though the mental inferiors by whom they were surrounded laughed noisilv. Merton wondered how any producer could bring himself to debase so great an art, and Tessie wondered if she hadn't, in a way, been aiming over the public's head with her scenarios. After all, you had to give the public what it wanted. She began to devise comedy elements for her next drama. But The Hazards of H or tense came mercifully to soothe their annoyance The slim little girl with a wistful smile underwent a rich variety of hazards, each threatening a terrible death. Through them all she came unscathed, leaving behind her a trail of infuriated scoundrels whom she had thwarted. She escaped from an underworld den in a Chicago slum just in the nick of time, cleverly concealing herself in the branches of the great eucalyptus tree that grew hard by, while her maddened pursuers scattered in their search for the prize. Again she was captured, this time to be conveyed by aeroplane, a helpless prisoner and subject to the most fiendish insults by Black Steve, to the frozen North. But in the far Alaskan wilds she eluded the fiends and drove swiftly over the frozen wastes with their only dog team. Having left her pursuers far behind, she decided to rest for the night in a deserted cabin along the way. Here a blizzard drove snow through the chinks between the logs, and a pack of fierce wolves besieged her. She tried to bar the door, but the bar was gone. At that moment she heard a call. Could it be Black Steve again? No, thank Heaven! The door was pushed open and there stood Ralph Murdock, her fiance. There was a quick embrace and words of cheer from Ralph. They must go on. But no, the wind cut like a knife, and the wolves still prowled. The film here showed a running insert of cruel wolves exposing all their fangs. Ralph had lost his rifle. He went now to put his arm (Continued on page 78).