ose.

"But he isn't English; he's American."

"Sangoese," corrected Beth.

"Perhaps he doesn't like his name, or is ashamed of it," suggested
Uncle John.

"It may be 'Absalom,'" said Flo. "We once knew an actor named Absalom,
and he always called himself 'A. Judson Keith.' He was a dignified chap,
and when we girls one day called him 'Ab,' he nearly had hysterics."

"Mr. Werner had hysterics to-day," asserted Maud, gravely; "but I didn't
blame him. He sent out a party to ride down a steep hill on horseback, as
part of a film story, and a bad accident resulted. One of the horses
stepped in a gopher hole and fell, and a dozen others piled up on him,
including their riders."

"How dreadful!" was the general exclamation.

"Several of the horses broke their legs and had to be shot," continued
Maud; "but none of the riders was seriously injured except little
Sadie Martin, who was riding a bronco. The poor thing was caught under
one of the animals and the doctor says she won't be able to work again
for months."

"Goodness me! And all for the sake of a picture?" cried Patsy
indignantly. "I hope you don't take such risks, Maud."

"No; Flo and I have graduated from what is called 'the bronco bunch,' and
now do platform work entirely. To be sure we assume some minor risks in
that, but nothing to compare with the other lines of business."

"I hope the little girl you mentioned will get well, and has enough money
to tide her over this trouble," said Uncle John anxiously.

"The manager will look after her," returned Mrs. Montrose. "Our people
are very good about that and probably Sadie Martin's salary will continue
regularly until she is able to work again."

"Well," said Beth, drawing a long breath, "I suppose we shall read all
about it in the morning papers."

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Maud and added: "These accidents never get into the
papers. They happen quite often, around Los Angeles, where ten thousand
or more people make their living from motion pictures; but the public is
protected from all knowledge of such disasters, which would detract from
their pleasure in pictures and perhaps render all films unpopular."

"I thought the dear public loved the dare-devil acts," remarked
Arthur Weldon.

"Oh, it does," agreed Mrs. Montrose; "yet those who attend the picture
theatres seem not to consider the action taking place before their eyes
to be real. Here are pictures only--a sort of amplified story book--and
the spectat