mera.

The hero, however, loses his paternal expectations in the maelstrom of
Wall Street. Throwing off his coat--literally, because at the cinema we
are left in no doubt as to intentions--he resolves to go "out West" and
retrieve the family fortunes.

Our old friends the cow-boys meet him at the wooden shack which
represents the railway station at Waybackville, registering great glee
at the prospect of hazing a tenderfoot. We know full well that he will
eventually win their respect and high regard--probably by foiling a
dastardly plot on the part of a Mexican half-breed--and we are therefore
in no anxiety of mind when they raise the dust around his feet with
their six-shooters, toss him in a blanket or entice him on to a
meek-looking, but in reality record-busting, broncho.

In the middle of the drama we look forward to the "chases," and we are
never disappointed. Our pursued hero, attired in the picturesque
bandarilleros of shaggy mohair and the open-throated shirterino of the
West, will race through the tangled thickets of the picadoro-trees;
thunder down the crumbling banks of amontillados so steep that the
camera probably gets a crick in the neck looking up at him; ride the
foaming torrent with one hand clasping the mane of his now tamed
broncho, and the other hand triggering his shooting-iron; and eventually
fall exhausted from the horse at the very doorstep of the ranch, one
arm, pinged by a dastardly rifle-bullet, dangling helplessly by his
side. (It is, by the way, always the arm or shoulder; the cinema never
allows him to get it distressingly in the leg or in the neck.)

In the ultimate, with the wounded arm in a sling, he will tenderly
embrace the heroine through a hundred feet of film, she meanwhile
registering great joy and trustfulness, until the scene slowly darkens
into blackness, and the screen suddenly announces that the next item on
the programme will be No. 7, Exclusive to the Picturedrome.

We are greatly favoured with "exclusives." It may be possible that other
suburbs have these films, but it must be second-hand, after we have
finished with them. The names of the artistes who create the _roles_ are
announced on the screen: "_Captain Jack Reckless_--Mr. Courcy van
Highball," or it maybe "_Juliet_, Miss Mamie Euffles." Or it is a film
taken at the local regatta or athletic sports, and the actors in it
include all the notabilities of the district. We flock to see how we (or
our neighbours) look