e.

Those of you who have read the previous books of this series do not need
to be told much about moving pictures. And even those who select this
volume as their first venture in becoming acquainted with our heroines
must well know how the film pictures look from the front of the screen.

To the uninitiated I might say that in making picture plays a company,
somewhat like a regular theatrical organization, is gotten together. The
play is decided upon, but instead of the acts taking place before an
audience they are enacted before a camera and a man who acts as
director, or manager.

Some of the action takes place out of doors, amid the surroundings of
nature, but most interior scenes are "filmed," or taken, in the studio,
under the brilliant glare of electric lights. The pictures are taken in
succession on a narrow strip of celluloid film, of the same nature as
those in any camera. The strips are of a standard length of one thousand
feet, though some plays may "split," and take only half a "reel" while
others will fill several.

When the film has been exposed, it is developed in a dark tank, and from
that one "master" film, any number of "positives" can be made for use in
the projecting machines. Doubtless you know that the same machine which
takes the pictures does not show them on the screen.

But enough of this detail.

"Was the rarebit good?" asked Alice, smiling up into her father's face,
as the supper progressed.

"You may give me some more, which is the best answer in the world, my
dear," he replied, smiling.

"Be careful!" Ruth warned him. "You may have dreams, Daddy!"

A shadow seemed to pass over the face of the old actor. He had been
jokingly gay during the meal, but now there seemed to be a sense of
depression.

"Might as well tell us, and have it over with," suggested Ruth. "We
don't believe in dreams, anyhow. Do we Alice?"

"Not a bit, and I've named the corners of my bed ever so many times,"
and she laughed at that old sweethearts' superstition.

"Well, my dream was very vivid," Mr. DeVere said. "I don't usually
believe in omens, but this one impressed me. I dreamed we were all at
sea, on a vessel in a storm, and, somehow, we became separated. I saw
you girls going down with the ship, while I was taken up on a life
raft."

"Well, what of it, Daddy?" asked Alice. "I've often had unpleasant
dreams myself. Probably you ate something you ought not to have taken.
I'm rather sorry, now, I made